Page 170 of Sparks Fly

I shifted my grip on Addison’s hands slightly and took a breath.

“I don’t make speeches,” I said, my voice carrying just enough to make the front rows smile. “So, this is terrifying.” That earned a soft laugh from somewhere behind us. “But I do know a few things.”

I tightened my hands gently around Addison’s and met her eyes.

“I know that the first time I saw you was in a crowded bar on Benji’s birthday. You were standing there looking like you had wandered into the wrong place entirely. Too put together. Too polished. Like someone had dropped you into the middle of a room that ran on spilled beer and bad decisions.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the guests.

“But I couldn’t stop looking at you,” I continued. “There was something about you that didn’t match the version of yourself you were trying to sell the world, and I remember thinking I wanted to know what that version looked like when no one else was watching.”

Addison’s fingers tightened slightly in mine.

“I fell in love with that version of you,” I said quietly. “The one who laughs too hard when she forgets to be careful. The one who curls up on the couch with spreadsheets and wine and somehow calls that relaxing. The one who shows up in my shop in heels and asks questions about welding like she’s interviewing me for the job.”

A few people laughed again, and Addison shook her head slightly, smiling through the emotion gathering in her eyes.

“You let yourself be real with me,” I continued. “And that is the bravest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

My voice softened as I went on.

“I love you more than I know how to explain in a speech like this. I love the life we’ve built together. I love the house we made into a home. I love that every morning I wake up next to someone who chooses me the same way I choose her.”

Addison’s eyes were bright now, but she didn’t look away.

“I promise that no matter what the world throws at us, you will always get to be yourself with me,” I said. “You will never have to pretend. You will never have to shrink to make someone comfortable. My job in this life is to make sure you feel safe enough to be exactly who you are.”

I lifted our joined hands slightly.

“I promise to stand beside you when things are easy and when they’re hard. I promise to build a life that feels warm and honest and full of the little things that make you happy. I promise to keep choosing you, every day, for the rest of my life.”

My chest felt tight when I finished, but the words came out steady.

“And I promise that I will only ever want you,” I said quietly. “Forever. I am so damn lucky that I get to be your wife.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment before the officiant smiled softly and stepped forward to continue the ceremony.

The rings were passed forward and slipped onto fingers that already felt like they belonged together. The officiant looked between us with a warm expression before speaking again.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married,” she said.

Addison let out a small laugh that sounded half like relief and half like joy. The officiant nodded toward us.

“You can kiss the bride.”

I stepped closer and kissed her.

The moment wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t careful. It felt exactly like the life we had built together.

When we pulled back, Addison rested her forehead briefly against mine and whispered that I had done it. I shook my head slightly and told her that we had done it together. Then we turned toward the aisle side by side and started walking forward, our hands still joined as we stepped into the rest of our life.

* * *

Addison

The reception felt like stepping into a version of my life I hadn’t dared to imagine a few years ago.

The venue sat at the edge of a stretch of rolling land that had turned deep gold and copper with autumn. A huge white tent had been set up across the grass, its high peaks glowing softly under strands of warm string lights that zigzagged overhead. Tables were arranged in loose circles beneath the fabric canopy, each one set with simple flowers and candles that flickered every time the breeze moved through the open sides of the tent. The dance floor stretched across the center, polished wood reflecting the glow of the lights and the slow shifting colors of the sunset beyond it.