The celebrant’s gaze keeps drifting to Carlo, who’s making soft sounds behind the gag. Her expression is uncertain, professional concern warring with obvious curiosity. “Is... is he okay? That’s quite an unusual accessory for a wedding ceremony.”
“Oh, that,” I wave a hand dismissively, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “It’s his kink. And he’s very shy about public speaking, performance anxiety, you know how it is. This helps him feel more comfortable and present in the moment. Doesn’t it, darling?”
I slide my hand behind Carlo’s head and give his hair a gentle but firm tug, making him nod. The movement is perfectly natural looking, exactly as I intended. “See? He loves it. It’s actually quite romantic when you think about it.”
The celebrant looks uncertain for a moment, glancing between us with the expression of someone trying to decide whether this falls within the bounds of normal human behavior. Then she shrugs, clearly deciding that she’s seen stranger things in her line of work.
“Well, I’ve certainly performed ceremonies for couples with... unique preferences. Each relationship has its own dynamic. I’ve received both your birth certificates, and I’ll mail the marriage certificate to the address you provided within three business days.”
Carlo makes a strangled noise behind the gag, and I feel a surge of pride at my own efficiency.
Actually, it was surprisingly easy once I knew how. I’ve always known Carlo’s full name, and I figured out his date of birth because I know how old he is and that his birthday is May 5th. I also know he was born here in London. I even know whichhospital because one time, at a dinner party, he mentioned that he was giving a donation.
That information, together with fifteen pounds, is enough to order a birth certificate from the General Register Office in England.
“Shall we begin?” the celebrant asks, consulting her notes again and adjusting something on her computer screen.
“Please,” I say, my voice breathy with excitement and barely contained emotion. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”
She starts with the standard opening, her voice taking on the formal cadence of someone who’s performed this ritual hundreds of times. She talks about love and commitment and the sacred bond of marriage, about two souls choosing to walk through life together. I hang on every word, my heart swelling with each phrase. This is really happening. Carlo and I are really getting married.
The words wash over me like music, like poetry, like everything beautiful I’ve ever read about love and devotion. This is what I’ve been dreaming of since I was sixteen years old, sitting in family dinners and watching Carlo across the table, imagining a day when he would be mine forever.
“Marriage is not just a legal contract,” the celebrant continues, “but a spiritual and emotional bond between two people who choose to share their lives, their dreams, their futures. It’s about trust, respect, communication, and above all, love that transcends all obstacles.”
Yes, I think, exactly. Love that transcends all obstacles. Love that refuses to be denied or hidden away in basements. Love that’s strong enough to overcome fear and doubt and the expectations of others.
“Giovanni,” she continues, turning her attention to me with a warm smile, “do you take Carlo to be your lawfully weddedhusband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?”
“I do,” I say immediately, my voice clear and strong and ringing with absolute certainty. “I absolutely do. With all my heart and soul and everything I am. Forever and always.”
The words feel sacred as they leave my lips, a vow that goes deeper than law or ceremony. This isn’t just a legal formality; this is me promising the universe that I will love and protect and cherish Carlo for the rest of my life.
“And Carlo,” she turns to address him directly, her voice warm and encouraging, “do you take Giovanni to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?”
Carlo just stares at the screen, his eyes wide and unblinking, making no sound except for his slightly labored breathing. The moment stretches, filled with tension and possibility. I slide my hand behind his head again, fingers tangling gently in his soft hair, and give it a firm tug. His head jerks forward in what could charitably be called a nod.
“He’s just overwhelmed with emotion,” I explain to the celebrant, my voice soft with understanding and love. “This is such a special moment for us. He’s always been the strong, silent type. Still waters run deep, you know.”
“I can see that,” she says with a knowing smile, the kind of expression that suggests she’s seen all types of couples in her years of performing ceremonies. “The strong, silent type can be very romantic. There’s something beautiful about love that doesn’t need words.”
“There really is,” I agree, gazing at Carlo adoringly, taking in every detail of his face, the way the light catches in his dark eyes, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. “He’s absolutely perfect. I’m the luckiest person in the world.”
The celebrant continues with a reading about soulmates finding each other across time and space, about love conquering all obstacles, about two hearts becoming one. Her voice rises and falls with practiced rhythm, each word carefully chosen to evoke the magic and mystery of true love. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of hearing at my wedding, every romantic fantasy I’ve ever harbored coming to life.
“Love is patient, love is kind,” she reads from what sounds like a modified version of the famous passage. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails, never gives up, never loses faith in the possibility of happiness.”
Tears are already starting to gather in my eyes. This is so beautiful, so perfect, so exactly what I always imagined my wedding would be like.
“Now for the vows,” she announces, setting down her notes and focusing her full attention on us. “Giovanni, would you like to share your feelings with your husband-to-be?”
“Oh yes,” I breathe, turning to face Carlo fully. His eyes are so wide, so beautiful, fixed on mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. There’s so much I want to say, so much I need him to understand about what this moment means to me.
“Carlo,” I begin, my voice trembling with the weight of all the emotion I’ve been carrying for years, “from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were my destiny. My soulmate. The other half of my soul. You are everything I never knew I was looking for and everything I’ll ever need. You make me complete. You make me whole.”
My voice breaks slightly as the words pour out, years of pent-up love and longing finally finding expression. “I promise to love you, cherish you, protect you, and make you happy for the rest of our lives. I promise to be everything you need, to giveyou everything you deserve, to never let anything hurt you ever again. You are my today and all of my tomorrows.”
Tears are streaming down my face by the time I finish, my vision blurred but my voice steady. Carlo’s eyes are suspiciously bright too, glistening with what might be tears of joy, though that might be from the gag making his eyes water.
