The doors swing open.
Zoe appears first—small and precious in a flouncy dress of dusty rose. She saunters forward, beaming as she scatters petals like confetti. Her dark curls bounce with each determined step. Tasha follows in wine-colored silk, her smile trembling with happy tears as she takes her position.
And then. There. Framed in the doorway with soft light spilling around her.
Avery.
My senses hone in on her and I drink in the vision of her. The ivory silk draping curves I know by heart, the skirt spilling to the floor and flowing behind her as she moves. The fitted bodice wrapping her in soft architecture, elegant and timeless. Thesleeves made of sheer lace from shoulder to wrist, scattered with hundreds of tiny pearls that catch the light like constellations sewn into fabric.
Pearls. Our pearls. Woven into the very fabric she's wearing to marry me.
My throat tightens.
Her long blonde hair is unbound, falling in soft waves. A diamond tiara crowns her head where the elaborate veil should have been. She didn’t wear it, and I’m glad. Whatever beauty the original piece held, it’s a part of our past now. It has no place here today.
The tiara suits her better. My wife doesn't need a veil. She’s a queen. She deserves to wear a crown.
At her throat, resting against the sweet little hollow I love to kiss, is the infinity necklace I gave her. Pearls and diamonds. My claim, visible to everyone in this room, yet understood by no one but us.
Her mother walks beside her, glowing with pride, her eyes bright with tears she's not hiding. I acknowledge Brenda, register the emotion on her face, but my attention returns to Avery within the same breath. Everything else is peripheral. She is the center, and I am locked on her completely. Her gaze holds mine from the moment those doors open, her smile already forming, the silk shifting against her hips with each measured step.
The distance between us closes with agonizing slowness. Each step she takes registers somewhere deep in my body, pulling the coiled tension tighter.
But I don’t want to rush this moment. I want to memorize each second. Everything we’ve been through plays in a rapid loop of memories in my mind. Our journey to this place has been long, full of missteps and mistakes, but we’ve made it.
Avery’s tender smile—the private one, the one that's only ever been for me—says she knows exactly what I'm thinking and she's thinking it too.
At last, she reaches me.
Brenda lifts Avery's hand and places it in mine. The transfer is gentle, deliberate, and weighted with a trust I’ll never break. My fingers close around Avery's, and the rightness of it settles into my bones. This is where she belongs. Where she's always belonged.
Her mother's eyes meet mine, steady, lit with the quiet ferocity of a woman who loves Avery as much as I do. I hold her gaze, letting her see everything: the gratitude, the promise, the vow I'll spend the rest of my life keeping.
She nods. Steps back.
And then, it's just us.
Before the officiant begins, our eyes meet and hold. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth—small, private, tender with everything we share. TheIcarusat sunset. The vows we've already spoken. The rings that have already lived on our fingers. The future we’ve already begun together.
"Hello, wife," I whisper, only for her ears.
"Hello, husband."
The music fades slowly as the ceremony begins. The minister's voice fills the church, traditional words that settle over us. Avery's hand is warm in mine, her pulse beating against my palm.
"Do you, Dominic Xavier Baine, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?"
Memories flood me in an instant, all the moments Avery and I have shared before coming together right now. We've already lived these vows. Every word of them.
"I do."
"And do you, Avery Danielle Ross, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as long as you both shall live?"
Avery's eyes glisten. "I do."
She does.I exhale slowly, lost in the love I see in her gaze.
The minister turns to Beck. "Andrew, do you have the rings?"
