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Isa’s sisters appear at the French doors leading onto the trellis and make their way to their seats. I have to roll my lips together to keep from grinning like an idiot, knowing Isa and her father will appear next.
La Vie En Rose starts to play softly through the speakers and everyone looks at the French doors in anticipation.
Isa and her father walk through the doors. Her father is holding onto her arm tightly, his eyes alight with tears. Isa is looking at me with a grin so wide her cheeks must hurt. And I’m probably grinning just as big as she is.
I take this opportunity to appreciate the dress she chose and how it hugs her body in all the right places. It dips down enough in the front to be incredibly sexy, but not so low that it would make our families uncomfortable. Her bouquet is perfect for her, a colorful arrangement that cascades in all directions. It’s wild and beautiful… just like the woman holding it.
When they’re finally right in front of me, she leans over to kiss her father on the cheek and I see her hair has the same flowers as her bouquet. Her father tearfully takes his own seat and Isa hands her bouquet off to her sister, Rosa, so she can take my hands.
When she finally meets my gaze, I whisper, “Wow.”
At least I thought I whispered it… but our families are laughing.
Dante comes up and stands next to me as the priest begins the ceremony, which is completely in Italian. Dante effortlessly translates, probably captivating all of the women in the room… except for Isa, whose attention is on me. Just the way I like it.
When it’s time to exchange rings, I realize we completely forgot to purchase a ring for me. “I forgot to buy myself a ring,” I whisper to Isa.
The priest looks between us with a confused expression.
Isa winks at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Isa’s younger sister, Lily, comes walking down the aisle, and Mo is on a leash walking beside her. He’s wearing a very dapper bow tie and looks absolutely miserable.
I chuckle and shake my head at the sight. Our families love the scene and are all laughing and snapping photos with their phones.
Lily and Mo finally make it to the front and, with a little coercion via cat treats, she bends to untie my ring and Isa’s wedding band from Mo’s collar and then hands them to us.
Lily then picks Mo up, then carries him off to her seat. The priest smiles and continues as we exchange our rings. Mine is a simple band made of dark gold, matching Isa’s perfectly.
The priest exclaims something in Italian with a big smile and Dante translates that it’s time to kiss the bride.
With one hand on her back, which I'm delighted is completely bare, and one hand at her nape, I dip her back and kiss her with all of the built up passion I felt when we were apart. And all of the relief I feel that we never have to be apart again.
Our families whoop and holler, making enough noise that you’d think our wedding had a hundred guests.
I bring Isa back up and surprise her by picking her up off the ground. A festive Italian song blares from the speakers and I start carrying her down the aisle. Our families continue cheering until they realize I’m not stopping. I’ve nearly reached the staircase with my bride before we hear Brooks yell, “You’re not even going to eat lunch with us?”
“Nope!” I yell back.
Once we get to the narrow staircase, I set Isa down and we run up the stairs as fast as we can… with the exception of the several times we stopped to make out along the way.
Isa opens the door to our suite and when I see the bed, I squeeze my eyes shut in horror. “Did you do this?”
She stares at the bed and starts to giggle. The longer she looks at it, the harder she laughs.
“This had to have been Brooks… but when did he sneak away to do this??” I gesture toward the bad in annoyance with one hand. Isa doesn’t answer because she’s too busy laughing.
I begin removing the condoms-turned-balloons that are taped all over our bed, and then I tackle the flamingo and llama confetti.
My wife—wow, I love the sounds of that—finally calms down and places a hand on my arm, urging me to stop my cleaning. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I slip my arms around her and force myself to forget the giant mess of confetti.
“Our life is going to be a constant adventure, isn’t it?” I ask before running my lips along the side of her neck, the mess forgotten the instant my lips meet her skin.
“I sure hope so,” she whispers back.
David
Six Months Later
