And there he is. Eyes full of devotion. Soul wide open. My anchor. My home.
We breathe together—one heartbeat, one rhythm—and as the priest announces us husband and wife, I don’t wait. I rise on my toes and kiss him, sealing this moment in the only way that feels right.
The church doors swing open to the sound of bells ringing and cheers rising from the crowd waiting outside. As Nathan and I step out hand in hand, I’m momentarily blinded by a sea of flashing lights—paparazzi, family, guests, everyone trying to capture this moment frozen in time.
But all I see is him.
Nathan's grip tightens around mine as he looks down at me with that grin I’ve fallen for a thousand times over. He nods toward the line of uniformed men awaiting us outside, swords raised in perfect unison.
“The sword ceremony,” he whispers near my ear, his voice reverent and proud.
We take our first steps through the arch of steel, and I can feel every heartbeat in my chest echo louder with each step we take. It’s both magical and intense—this blend of tradition and honor, of a life we’re stepping into together, no matter how uncertain the future may be.
Each pair of soldiers brings their swords down as we pass, making us stop, pause, and kiss. The crowd cheers louder each time, and Nathan winks at me like he’s savoring every second. I’m trying to memorize this—all of this. The way his hand feels in mine. The warmth of his touch. The way my name sounds in the chants.
When we reach the end, the last two swords drop, and one of his friends bellows, “Welcome to married life!”
The laughter, the claps—it all buzzes in the air as we duck into the limo waiting at the curb. The door closes behind us, muffling the chaos outside, and for a moment, it’s just us again.
Nathan immediately pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me like he’s afraid to let go.
“You’re stunning, babe,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the curve of my neck. His voice is husky, thick with emotion.
“So are you.” I whisper back, leaning my forehead against his. His scent, his warmth—it’s everything I need to hold it together right now.
“You’re mine.” His voice deepens into a growl, low and possessive, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.
“Only yours,” I breathe, barely managing the words before he captures my lips in a kiss that steals the air from my lungs. It’s intense, urgent, like we’re trying to say everything we can’t out loud.
Then he lets his head drop back against the seat with a heavy sigh, his eyes clouded. Something shifts in the air.
“I have to tell you something,” he says, voice quieter now, weighed down.
I rest my hand on his chest, trying to soothe the tension building between us. “Me too.”
He meets my gaze, his expression unreadable. “Then you start. Tell me.”
I try to lighten the mood with a teasing smile. “Come on, smartass. Spill it out.”
He chuckles, but it’s strained. “This morning… I got the call.”
My breath hitches. “Nate…” I whisper, and just like that, the tears threaten to spill again. I knew this day would come—I knew—but I had hoped for more time. Just a little more. The cruel irony of fate on our wedding day stings sharper than I imagined.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, cupping my cheek with a tenderness that makes it harder to breathe.
I nod, barely able to speak. “Please be careful.” My voice is thin, cracking. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.” I fall into his arms, holding him like I can imprint this moment into my skin—like if I hold on tight enough, maybe he won’t have to go.
But the clock is ticking.
He gently fumbles with my veil, taking it off like it’s something sacred. His fingers brush through my hair. “What did you want to tell me?”
The words I rehearsed suddenly feel too heavy. I can’t burden him—not today. Not when he already has to walk away. So instead, I put on the only armor I have left—a smile.
“I can’t wait to get back home,” I say softly. “How about we ditch the party early? The guests will understand.”
He smiles like I’ve just given him oxygen. “And if they don’t, I don’t care.” His lips brush over mine with infinite sweetness, and I melt right there. “I want to spend my last hours with my wife.”
Tears well in my eyes again—but this time, they’re a mix of everything. Joy. Sorrow. Love. And the kind of pain that only comes from having something so beautiful it scares you to lose it.
