“You’re beautiful,” I whisper.
“So are you,” she breathes, her voice trembling with emotion.
The mass begins, but everything feels distant. A blur. I don’t hear the prayers. I don’t hear the music. All I see are her hands in mine, the way her thumb strokes the inside of my palm as if to ground me, reminding me that this is happening.
Then, finally, it’s time.
I take a breath and look into her eyes. They shine—lit from within with emotion, unshed tears, and something fierce and soft all at once.
“In faith, honesty, and love, I take you, Isabel Barlow, to be my wedded wife,” I say, voice rough but steady, “to share with you God's plan for our lives together, united in Christ. And with God's help, to strengthen and guide me, I’ll be a strong spiritual leader for us in our lives. For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys, in sorrows, until death do us part. With this ring, I seal my vow of love to you and pray I may fulfill God's place in our home.”
She trembles. I feel it. And I want nothing more than to wrap her up in my arms and shield her from everything. I already know I’ll spend the rest of my life doing just that.
Then it’s her turn.
Her voice breaks at first, just a whisper, but she steadies.
“In faith, honesty, and love, I take you, Nathan Weister, to be my wedded husband,” she says, tears streaking her cheeks, “I pledge to share with you God's plan for our lives together, united in Christ. For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, in joys and in sorrows, until death do we part—I promise you all of this and more, with God's help to strengthen and guide me as your supportive wife. I give you all that I have—myself and my love. With this ring, I seal my vow of love to you and pray I may fulfill God's place in our home.”
My soul is undone. Every wall I ever had left crumbles.
“You have declared your consent before the Church,” the priest says warmly. “May the Lord in his goodness strengthen your consent and fill you both with his blessings. What God has joined, men must not divide. Amen.”
“Amen,” we say together, breathless, locked in this invisible thread only we can feel.
A beat of silence.
Then the priest grins. “Since you already kissed the bride before the ceremony, I don't suppose you want to kiss her again, do you?”
“You bet I do.”
I pull her close, the world fading away, and press my lips to hers, deep and full of everything I can’t say. All the fears, the gratitude, the love I carry—it's there, poured into that kiss.
When we part, I whisper against her mouth, my voice cracked with emotion, “I love you.”
She smiles, tears still clinging to her lashes, and whispers back, “I love you too.”
Forever starts now.
Chapter 19
Isabel
The mass is emotional—far more than I ever anticipated. The weight of the moment, the hushed reverence in the room, the echo of the priest’s words… it all crashes into me like a wave. I blink up at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay where they are, teetering on the edge. Somehow, I manage to keep them in, but my hands betray me—they’re trembling, unsteady with emotion.
Then I feel him.
Nathan’s thumbs sweep gently over my knuckles. Then, slowly, reverently, he brings my hands to his lips. The tender press of his mouth against my skin sparks a thousand jolts through my veins, lighting me up from the inside out.
Our eyes lock—and everything else dissolves. The church, the guests, the priest’s voice… all of it fades into a gentle blur.
All I see is him.
All I feel is the thundering in my chest and the way his gaze settles on me like I’m his entire world.
“I love you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear.
I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay, but the moment is too much. When I feel him lean in, his forehead resting against mine, I open them again—because I have to see him. I need to.
