This was it. The moment he officially stopped being Stefan Romano and became Stefan DeLuca.
The moment he chose his family instead of accepting the one he was born into.
He walked toward me with steady steps. No hesitation. No doubt. Just certainty.
When he reached me, I took his hand. Held tight.
"Hi," he whispered.
"Hi." My voice was rough. "You look incredible."
"So do you."
The judge cleared his throat. "Shall we begin?"
Stefan nodded. I did too.
The ceremony was simple. Traditional vows with personal additions we'd written.
When it was my turn, I looked Stefan in the eyes and said the words I'd spent days perfecting:
"Stefan, you walked into my life unexpectedly. I caught you. Kept you. Fell for you in ways I never anticipated. You've taught me that protection isn't the same as control. That love means working with someone instead of around them. That partnership requires trust even when it's terrifying." I paused."Today I promise to honor your choices and your agency. To remember you're my partner, not my property. To choose you every day the way you've chosen me. To build this family together—as equals, as partners, as husbands."
Stefan's eyes were wet. He squeezed my hand.
His turn.
"Matteo, you gave me something no one else ever has—choice. You let me decide who I wanted to be instead of telling me. You valued my mind instead of just my appearance. You made me feel like I mattered." His voice was thick with emotion. "Today I'm choosing you. Choosing this family. Choosing to be Stefan DeLuca instead of Stefan Romano. And I promise to keep choosing you every day. To stay even when it's hard. To build this life together. To be your partner in everything."
The judge smiled. "Do you have the rings?"
Sandro handed them over. Simple gold bands. Elegant. Permanent.
I slid Stefan's ring onto his finger. He did the same for me.
"By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."
I pulled Stefan close and kissed him. Deep. Thorough. Full of promise and relief and overwhelming love.
When we broke apart, Stefan whispered: "I'm Stefan DeLuca now."
"Yes, you are. My husband."
"Your husband." He tested the word. Smiled. "I like how that sounds."
Applause broke out. Small but genuine. Our family—the one we'd built by choice—celebrating with us.
Emilio was crying. Trying to hide it but failing. Sandro had his arm around him, holding him close. I understood. They'd almost lost this. Almost lost each other. Watching us get marriedprobably reminded them how close they'd come to decades of separation.
Luca clapped me on the back. "Congratulations. Try not to fuck it up."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
Diana approached. Shook both our hands. "Congratulations. You've both earned this happiness."
"We couldn't have without you," Stefan said. "Thank you. For everything. For keeping Matteo out of prison. For making this possible."
"It was my job. But I'm glad I could help." She smiled. "Enjoy your evening. You've both been through enough—take time to be happy."
