Pippa and I chose a place in the Hamptons for our wedding, somewhere overlooking the water. We debated having it on the beach, but the thought of all of that sand in the food, all over her dress, and in everyone’s hair put her off.
Instead, we chose this place, which is the kind of venue that manages to balance grandeur with intimacy. When I first walked it with Pippa, I could already see her here with her hair catchingthe light, her laugh mingling with the breeze, her bare feet in the grass when she inevitably kicked her shoes off by the end of the night. Today, all of that has materialized.
The sweeping white stone terraces curve gently toward the ocean, and in the gardens, there is a pergola draped in soft white linen and climbing roses. In amongst all of this, chairs wearing white bows have been set up in perfect rows along the lawn. The flowers are fresh, the ocean glitters as if someone has scattered diamonds across its surface. The entire place is humming with expectancy and excitement.
I’m standing at the front with Max at my side. He’s unusually quiet, though his grin keeps sneaking out, betraying the fact that he’s both proud and itching to crack a joke at my expense. That’s probably why he’s staying quiet. If he gets talking, he won’t be able to resist winding me up. As if it proves me correct, he speaks up.
“You’re sure about this?” he murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear him.
I give him a look. “Obviously. Now shut up.”
He smirks. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
I let out a breath, scanning the rows as our guests arrive and settle into their seats. My parents are in the front row, my mother dabbing at her eyes already, my father sitting stiff and upright in his tailored suit as though he’s about to give a speech. Beyond them, I spot Harrison and Maria’s parents. Next to them is a handful of business associates I invited more out of obligation than desire. I look away quickly before I can make accidental eye contact with any of them. I spot Pippa’s mom sitting with pride so clear it radiates from her. She looks up and catches my eye. She smiles at me. I smile back and give her a thumbs-up sign.
Right on time, the music swells, signaling the start of the actual ceremony. My stomach is in knots, and my pulse ishammering away, not with nerves but with raw anticipation. The bridesmaids appear first, walking down the aisle one by one in their champagne-colored dresses.
Sandra comes first, her blonde hair swept into an elegant chignon. She carries her bouquet with an almost military precision, though her sly little smile when she meets my eyes tells me she’s already cataloguing material for some cutting remark later.
Lucy follows behind her, her curls bouncing, her laughter bubbling out even as she walks. She looks radiant, a little mischievous, and her presence feels like sunshine spilling into the ceremony.
Maria comes next, owning the bridesmaid’s attire in a way that’s impossible to ignore. She gives me a subtle wink.
Vanessa rounds out the line, a quiet elegance about her that’s different from her usual demeanor. She catches my eye, nods once, and for a fleeting second, I’m reminded of the unlikely friendship that blossomed between her and Pippa. I smile at the thought of it.
Then the music changes, and I swear the whole world shifts with it. Everyone rises. My heart stops. And then she’s there. My Pippa.
She’s holding on to her father’s arm, framed by the arched entryway of the terrace. She starts walking toward me like the embodiment of every dream I never dared to admit I had. It is as if I am marrying a princess or goddess. Her dress is absolutely stunning. It is made from white silk and clings in all of the right places before flowing out at the bottom. It has delicate lace tracing over her shoulders and down her arms, catching the sunlight so it looks as though she’s glowing. Her hair is pinned back, but crackles as if on fire through her sheer veil.
My breath catches as I look at her. But it isn’t the dress. It isn’t even the beauty of her, though God knows she’sbreathtaking. It’s her expression. She looks at me like I am her destination. Like I’m the reason she’s walking, the reason she’s smiling through those tears trembling on her lashes.
That nearly undoes me.
When she reaches me, her father lightly kisses her cheek. His hand lingers on hers for just a moment before he gives her to me. My throat is too tight to manage words, but my grip on her hand is steady, unyielding.
“You look stunning,” I croak.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she whispers.
The priest begins by welcoming everyone. His words wash over me about love, commitment, the joining of lives, but all I can focus on is her hand in mine, the warmth of her skin, the way her fingers curl into my palm as if they belong there.
Then it’s time for us to exchange our vows. We have agreed to write our own. I thought it would be easy. I know how much I love Pippa, and words are supposed to be my weapon, my shield, but when I sat down to write, all I could think was that nothing I could say would ever capture the immensity of what I feel for her. I don’t think even Wordsworth himself could find the words to express an emotion so deep.
Still, I tried, and somehow, I came up with a pale imitation of what I felt inside. I clear my throat and look directly at her.
“Pippa,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Before I met you, I thought I knew what my life was all about. I thought I had it all figured out. Nothing mattered except work, success, and control. And then you came into my life, and you turned it all upside down. You challenged me, you infuriated me, and you made me laugh, even when I didn’t think I could anymore. You reminded me that love isn’t supposed to be calculated or convenient. It’s supposed to be real. Messy. Alive. You’ve given me that. You’ve given me yourself. And I promise you that for the rest of my life, I will never stop fighting for you, protectingyou, making you laugh, and, most importantly of all, loving you. You’re it for me. You’ve always been it. From day one when you arrived in your Jessica Rabbit costume.”
Her eyes shimmer with tears, and my chest feels like it might split open.
“Rhett,” she says softly, although the strength in her voice builds with each word. “When I met you, I thought I knew exactly who you were. Arrogant, untouchable, someone who would never even look twice at someone like me. And I was wrong. Because underneath your perpetual scowl, you’re kind, generous, and loyal. You see me, and I mean really see me, even when I feel invisible. You believe in me when I don’t believe in myself. And you taught me what love actually is. It’s not about the grand gestures or the picture-perfect moments. It’s the little things and the big things. It’s you making me coffee the way I like it, or the way you hold me when I’m falling apart. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone, and I promise that no matter what comes, I’ll be right there with you. Because you’re it for me too.”
There isn’t a dry eye in the place. My own vision blurs, but I don’t care. The priest asks for the rings to be brought forward. Max hands me Pippa’s, his fingers squeezing my shoulder briefly before stepping back, and Sandra hands Pippa mine.
I slide the ring onto her finger, my voice steady even as my heart races. “With this ring, I give you my heart. Wear it as a reminder that you’re never alone.”
Her hands tremble slightly as she takes my ring and places it on my finger. “With this ring,” she whispers, “I give you my love. Wear it knowing that I’m yours, always.”
The priest smiles, his voice carrying across the terrace when he speaks again. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
