My mom nods in agreement, clutching a hand to her chest. “It’s true. I was there. It was so sweet.”
“Can you all please stop stealing our vows,” I grumble.
Fortunately, the clerk bustles in at that moment, prompting everyone to fall silent. It’s time.
The actual ceremony is kind of a blur. The clerk says some things that I barely hear because I’m so fixated on my Skyler, and then we say some things that have emotion catching in my throat.
“…best thing in my life…”
“…one soul in two bodies…”
“…always…”
The words are like little pinpricks of light that are impossible to catch all at once. Even as I’m saying and hearing them, I know I’m too overwhelmed in this moment to be able to remember this word for word. And I don’t need to. It’s all stuff I already know. It’s engraved on my heart, entwined with my DNA.
I don’t even notice it happening, but as we exchange our vows, we move closer and closer together until our foreheads are touching and our words are no louder than soft murmurs. I doubt anyone can hear us now, but we’re not asked to speak up, which I’m glad for.
Once we’re done with the vows, we exchange the rings Mom found for us during her thrift hunting expedition yesterday afternoon. And then we’re pronounced married.
I wrap my arms around Skyler and pull him in for our first lip cuddle as husbands. He responds by linking his arms around my neck and pulling me even closer as he increases the pressure of the kiss.
We finally break apart and I duck my head a little so I can nuzzle at his temple, murmuring, “Congratulations, Mr. Downey.”
He sighs happily and sinks further into my arms. “I love that we share a name. That name.”
I brush a kiss to his hair and squeeze him tighter. There really wasn’t much to the discussion about names last night. Skyler’s always felt much more a part of my family than the one he was born into, so this seemed like the obvious choice.
“This is really sweet and everything,” Charlie says, reminding me that there are a whole heap of other people gathered in this room right now and it’s not just me and Skyler, “but the clock’s ticking on our timeslot here. Maybe we should take this outside? Get some photos on the steps while it’s still light?”
“Oh, the sun will be setting soon,” Mom gushes, beaming with enthusiasm. “It’ll be beautiful.”
I throw my hands up in a helpless gesture and we let out guests lead the way out of the clerk’s office.
We have to pose for about a million photos on the steps of City Hall, and only get a reprieve when the light gets too bad. Thank god it’s April or we’d be here for several more hours.
“Do you think it’d be rude if we skipped the reception and just went straight to the suite Spencer got us?” I ask Skyler as we roll through Manhattan in the beautiful Aston Martin.
“I’ve been instructed to take you straight to the bar, sir,” Isaac, Spencer’s driver says. “No detours.”
I slump back against the buttery-soft leather. “Damn it. He knows us too damn well.”
Skyler lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, we don’t have to staylong.”
Like the ceremony, the reception is relatively small—Skyler and I just don’t have that many people in our lives who are important enough to invite to an event like this—but the staff at the bar have done a nice job of making the space suit the crowd. They’ve taken out most of the tables and brought in sofas and lounge chairs, and they’ve designated a generous space in front of the stage as a dancefloor. They’ve also used curtains to block off a whole section at the opposite end to the stage, giving an impression of a more intimate venue.
“It looks great,” I say to Skyler, nodding in approval.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I hear a familiar voice say through a microphone. I turn my gaze to the stage and see Deacon beaming at us. “It seems the newlyweds have arrived, so if everyone could raise their glass to celebrate our friends—Misters Jackson and Skyler Downey.”
“To the happy couple!” Someone—Paxton, I think—calls out, which results in an echo as the words are repeated by the crowd as they drink a toast.
“Wow,” Skyler exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. “If I knew getting married was going to get me this much adoration, I’d have done it years ago.”
I offer him a wry smile. “You should have asked me years ago.”
He offers me one of those beautiful smiles and I’m about to lean in for a lip cuddle when we’re interrupted by another voice coming over the microphone. When I glance up, I’m surprised to see an upright piano has been moved out onto the stage. Although I’m not all that surprised to see Jazz sitting at it—Deacon mentioned he’d be able to play music for us tonight.
“Hey, I’m Jazz—I guess I’m the entertainment for the evening. I also own this bar, so don’t fucking wreck anything.”
