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That was the only way to describe her.
When she reached the altar, she hugged her dad, then floated up the two small steps to me. Before she’d steadied herself at the top, I grasped her hands, looking for any excuse to touch her.
We repeated the vows the officiant recited. As he went on to discuss the duties and responsibilities of marriage, Marigold and I grinned at each other. Because we knew. We knew every messy, beautiful, hard, excruciating moment that came along with marriage. And we couldn’t be more excited.
The vast difference between this moment and the first hit me as I memorized the way Marigold looked today. All those years ago, we’d spoken our vows, eager to get to the honeymoon part. We were babies with no real understanding of what it meant to work hard for what we wanted. But now here we stood, stronger, smarter, more in love than we had ever been. Better. Every piece of us was better for the heartache and pain we’d crawled our way through to get here. For the growth we’d endured and the forgiveness we’d found along the way. And I knew that each day would be better than the last, no matter what we faced.
My cheeks ached, and I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.
The polite woman she was, she tried her hardest to pay attention to the officiant, but she playfully squinted and mouthed, “What?”
I shook my head, my grin never wavering. “We made it.”
She nodded. “We did.”
We exchanged I dos, then, a little too eagerly, I clung to every word out of the bald man’s mouth as he wrapped up his spiel. I just needed to kiss her.
“You may now kiss your—”
“Oh, thank God!” I wrapped my arms around Marigold’s waist and hauled her to me.
The laugh that tore from her was loud and joyous as I dipped her. Then I kissed her fiercely. Our families cheered, and flashes of light bounced all around us.
But we were lost in our own world.
Marigold’s cheeks were pink and her eyes danced when I righted her. She grasped my lapels and pulled me down until her lips brushed my ear. “Be careful. Don’t want to hurt the baby.”
I nodded. “Right. The ba—”
My stomach flipped and my chest all but exploded when her words sank in. Th-the baby?
I pulled back and gaped at her. With tears in her eyes, she pressed her lips together and nodded. Happier than I’d ever been, even two minutes ago when we’d been pronounced man and wife, I pulled her back in for one more kiss. I’d never get enough of this woman.
Most people would never find a love like this, and yet I was lucky enough to have found it twice with her.
“There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be” - The Beatles, All You Need Is Love.
***
It was an odd thing to wake up to; long strands of blonde hair tickling my neck and my chest feeling as though an elephant sat on it. But alcohol tended to have that kind of effect on people, I guess.
I let my eyes adjust to the light rays slipping in between the closed curtains in my hotel room. The small peek of the luminous glow from the sun outside lit the room up just enough to bring back memories of the night before as I took in the scattered space. My suit pieces splayed out on the floor, my suitcase neatly tucked away in its corner by the dresser, the night stand next to me with a white and gold lamp placed beside my phone with a dead battery, and finally a small, ripped white dress laying right in front of me.
My body slowly lifted from the bed, back tensing and pulling, a reminder that there was a reason that I didn’t drink anymore. Each pierce of a headache allowed a new vision into the day before; my messy tumble down the hall, the rush to get to the room as soon as possible. The feeling of finally resting on my chest, the weight of she’s mine heavy in my heart. At the thought of her, my eyes dragged slowly all the way up to the curvy frame lying under the covers right next to me. A white comforter pulled up to her just below her chin, her round cheeks pulled into a half smile, shut eyes and long eyelashes fluttered slightly in her dreamstate.
Soul brighter than the sun shining itself, she laid there in my shirt, smiling in her sleep, entirely unaware of my presence. My gut twisted, a rush of chill air racing up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I was a marine, butterflies shouldn’t be in the pit of my stomach at merely watching a woman sleep. But that didn’t stop them.
It would be a lot easier to neglect that feeling in the pit of my stomach if she was just anyone. If she were a random woman I had picked up on a night out in Vegas. Someone I could spend a night with, forget the next morning, and move on as though nothing had happened. But she wasn’t the type of woman you would do that to. She was the type you held, cherished. The woman you savored and longed for because who knew how long you could keep her. Like the last bite of dessert, or the last, slow pull of your favorite cigar before it was snuffed out. A bright light in a dark world that I selfishly wanted to keep for myself.
The corners of my lip tilted up as a tiny, puppy-like snore left her swollen pink lips. The covers shifted as she readjusted, and I watched for a moment as her chest rose and fell, my shirt expanding with every breath she took. Hazy memories of the night before began to piece together with every minute passing by. I had offered a clean shirt to her before she passed out, she said no and claimed she wanted the one I was wearing underneath my suit. Said it smelled more like me and like a lightning bolt to my chest, I felt this swell of pride. Before that, walking with her hand in hand from the hotel bar to the elevator. Her matching my height perfectly in her heels, leaning over to plant soft kisses along my cheek as the doors slowly shut. The feel of her in my hands, the way she called to me, how…male she made me feel. It all felt like a dream I had pieced together in my own mind. And if the proof weren’t laying right beside me, makeup free face and tousled blonde hair across my pillow case, I probably would have assumed it was a dream. Something my mind fabricated as a torture device to push me through the rest of the day.
My arm lifted to run a hand through my hair, I needed to check the time. Needed to make sure my brothers weren’t blowing up my phone wondering where I ended up last night or who I ended up with. Though my phone was dead, and since apparently no one needed clocks anymore, the time was nowhere to be found in the room around me. Eyes snagging on the suitcase across the room, I lifted a hand from the sheets below and slowly pushed myself, prepared to lightly walk across the floors and grab my charger.
A small hand reached for mine before I could move, her long white nails softly dragging over the veins in my hand. My chest sped up, heart pounding against my ribs, butterflies coming back even stronger. I turned my head back to her, expecting a wide-eyed blonde ready to make some cocky remark about oops, we did it again, but only to be met with her still sleeping form.
Her fingers laced over mine in the lightest touch. Feminine on top of masculine, soft over rough, purity over mess. I watched for a moment more, knowing when she awoke we had things to discuss from the last week. Things she and I had both been avoiding for far too long now and I knew that it was only a matter of time before had to be let out. But I wanted this peace, this overwhelming light in my chest to stay just a little longer.
It was when her fingers fully rested against mine that I looked down and noticed them.
