He looks at me like he's been waiting his whole life for this moment and didn't know it until now.
I walk toward him on Dimitri's arm, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. The small crowd is a blur. Viktor and his wife Isabella, a few others I've met over the past weeks are here, but I only see him.Only ever see him.
When I reach the altar, Dimitri places my hand in Leonid's. His fingers close around mine, warm and steady, and I feel myself relax.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi." His voice is rough. "You look..."
"What?"
"Like mine." His voice cracks on the word. "Finally mine."
The officiant speaks, but I barely hear the words.
I'm too focused on Leonid. On the way his thumb traces circles on my palm. On the slight tremble in his hands when he takes the ring—a simple platinum band that matches the engagement ring he gave me the night he proposed.
"Leonid," the officiant says, "do you take Lily to be your wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward?"
"I do." No hesitation. No doubt. Just absolute certainty.
"And do you, Lily, take Leonid to be your husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward?"
I look up at him: this man who killed for me, who held me through my nightmares, who told me his darkest secrets and asked for nothing in return.
"I do."
He slides the ring onto my finger. I do the same for him, my hands shaking slightly.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant smiles. "You may kiss the bride."
Leonid cups my face in his hands. His eyes are wet, and he doesn't try to hide it.
"I love you, Mrs. Morozov," he murmurs.
"I love you too."
He kisses me.
The small crowd cheers, but I barely hear them. There's only this—his mouth on mine, his hands on my face, his heart beating against my chest. There's only us, married,together, with our baby growing between us.
When we finally break apart, I'm crying. So is he.
"No more tears," he says, wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. "Only happiness from now on."
"These are happy tears."
"I know." He kisses my forehead. "Mine too."
***
The reception is small and warm.
Dinner on the terrace, fairy lights strung overhead, good food and better wine—sparkling cider for me. Toasts from Dimitri and Viktor. Isabella pulls me aside to tell me that pregnancy only gets better from here, that the second trimester is magic, that I'm going to be an incredible mother.
I believe her. For the first time in my life, I believe good things can happen to me.
Leonid doesn't let go of my hand all night. Keeps me tucked against his side, his arm around my waist, his palm drifting to my stomach like he can't help himself.
