She points to something in the distance, but I can’t make out what it is. Alessia directs the driver to pull over and we quickly get out of the car, following Belle down one of the small alleyways of the old city.
“B, what the hell?”
She runs back when she notices we’re not keeping up and pulls us forward. “Trust me. It’s going to be great.”
We finally reach our destination, and I don’t need to ask her what we’re doing here. I know her better than anyone.
Before turning to Belle, I glance up at the historic chapel, taking in the beauty of the architecture. It sits on the hilltop, granting you a stunning view of Tuscany. Even in the dark, it’s still breathtaking.
Reaching out, I pull Belle into my chest and wrap my arms tightly around her, overwhelmed by the emotions I feel for her.
Belle tilts her head up, smiling, and the warmth of it echoes in her words. “Do you want to marry me again, Jackson Peters?”
I never thought of myself as a romantic or even an emotional man, but when it comes to Belle, my feelings seem to continuously pour out of me like the wine we had earlier. I guess one would say that’s a sure sign of my unconditional love.
I pull her harder into my chest, then lean down to bite her neck. “The answer will always be yes, my beautiful B.”
“I think it’s a sign I wore white tonight. Don’t you agree?”
“Doubtful,” I say dryly, and she playfully hits me, causing us both to laugh before we enter.
We interlock our fingers and pause at the doorway, taking in the grandeur of it all. I wasn’t expecting this small chapel to be so magnificent. I lift her arm and kiss the inside of her wrist, letting my lips linger.
“This is a little fancy for what I had in mind.”
“Only the best for my girl,” I state, then gesture to continue down the aisle where Alessia stands to fake-officiate us.
Belle trips, and I catch her before she face-plants, reminding me we’ve had a lot to drink tonight. “Careful,” I warn.
“Sorry.” Belle shrugs, quickly regaining her balance, and practically bounces with excitement the rest of the way down.
When we reach Alessia, Belle raises her hand to stifle a giggle.
“This was all I could find.” Alessia laughs, holding up a bible. “It’s more official with a book, no?”
I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it all. “It would help if it wasn’t upside down.”
“Oh.” She flips it quickly and clears her throat, causing her and Belle to lose it.
“Are we ready?” I ask, breaking up their cackles so we can get on with it. I’m currently imagining a little old Italian priest rushing toward us, yelling to get out, so it’s better if we act quickly.
When the girls settle, Belle and I turn toward one another, and suddenly, the air calms around us and all is right in the world. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be at this moment in time.
I reach up and cup her face, rubbing the apples of her cheek. “I love you,” I mouth.
She gulps down her emotions and wipes a rogue tear. “You have no idea how much that means to me, and how much I love you back. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
Now I’m the one holding back my emotions.
“Okay, you two. Less sappy. We have dancing to do.”
Belle’s smile is infectious, and her bright blue eyes are full of life as they stare back at me.
Alessia’s words go by in a complete blur because I’m so lost in my Belle trance.
It still amazes me how my life has turned out after all these years, coming full circle with the one I was always meant for. Maybe Alessia’s right and it’s a bunch of sappy bullshit, but I can’t ignore the feeling of being whole again. Belle has always been a part of me, and now as my wife, the woman I love, she’s fixed me, believed in me, and loves me back wholeheartedly.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife”—Alessia pauses dramatically—“again.”
