Page 115 of Adrift

The doors open and she wipes the corners of her eyes. I know she wants to say more but with time running short and us wanting to stay on schedule, she leaves it with, “Now, let’s go. My daughter is getting married, and I don’t want to be late!”

The music starts as the breeze catches my long gown, lifting it slightly behind me. We chose the instrumental version of a song that was significant in forging our happy little family–Stay Awake–and even just hearing it stream through the sound system with the rustling sound of the calm river behind us, my emotions are threatening to engulf me completely.

My eyes lock on to the man I’ve been waiting to see all morning as I walk down the aisle and the world fades away. I don’t hear the not-so-whispered chatter from my friend Fred sitting next to Lynn on the bridal side of the aisle. I don’t see the sheer burgundy drapes tied to the corner pillars of our make-shift altar or the lily petals spread over the aisle. I don’t even recognize the familiar faces of my beautiful best friend and cousin, who are both crying happy tears as they wait in their spots to be my bridesmaids and my lifelong support systems.

All I see is him.

I’d never thought I’d hunger for someone’s love and affection. I never thought I’d crave someone’s desire. But then I tasted his and I knew I’d become an addict.

Darian’s coffee-colored gaze sweeps down the length of me before coming back to rest on my eyes. His lips that usually lay in an unmoving line on his face are turned up in a smile that’s dedicated only to me, his eyes blazing as I approach closer.

It was almost exactly a year ago today that Darian surprised me with a graduation gift during dinner–one that my nephew opened the box to reveal and Darian slipped onto my left hand ring finger–and I haven’t stopped smiling since.

I know he can see the adoration in my eyes as I scan him from head to toe, fitted in a suit that clings to his broad shoulders and muscular frame, his burgundy tie matching the highlights in every corner today. His hair is slightly gelled back and the curls I love so much rest over the collar at his neck, beckoning me to tangle my fingers inside them.

I slip my hand into his awaiting warm palm as he helps me over the steps. Pulling me into him, he lays a kiss on my lips, making the audience swoon. My eyes close on their own accord as Darian’s lips pull mine further into him, gifting me with not just his love but his total devotion. His hands cradle my neck, his thumbs caressing my jaw, as his tongue makes a quick sweep over my lips. I find his tongue with mine when his kiss turns into a smile against my lips. Our guests cheer–the loudest of them being my two brother-in-laws and Darian’s groomsmen, Garrett and Dean–before the officiant clears his throat.

Darian and I finally pull back from each other, and my heart skips a beat at the way he continues to look at me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

Garrett leans over to say something in Darian’s ear, but I don’t catch any of it. What I do catch is Garrett’s eyes trailing past my shoulder to someone behind me as he moves back into his spot behind Darian.

It doesn’t take me more than a second to realize he’s looking at one of my bridesmaids. Specifically, the bridesmaid who also happens to be my cousin.

If the past two years haven’t been a testament to the strength and courage my cousin exudes, I don’t know what has. Between raising her two-year-old daughter almost entirely on her own and working a full-time job, Bella has been nothing short of an inspiration. She’s a living example of what it means to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and rise again after a serious fall. But that tumble over the past two years didn’t come without leaving some scars.

Gone is the girl who trusted easily and smiled definitively. Gone is the girl who cared about what others thought or how they perceived her. In her place is a more determined, albeit more guarded, woman who no longer believes in happily ever afters–at least, not when it comes to her own story.

So while she’s been nothing but polite to my brother-in-law every time she’s run into him, she’s quick to dismiss his advances. Her argument is always the same. “I refuse to watch another sunset with someone, not knowing if they’ll be there for the sunrise. Because it’s within the daylight that I need them the most, not when the lights are all turned off.”

My eyes wander back to the man I love more than any sunrise or sunset. The man who might think I’m his sunshine but who is nothing less than the sun himself.

We wanted a quick ceremony, but because my parents requested seeing some parts of the Hindu ceremony incorporated, both Darian and I agreed to extend it a little bit. So, after a small prayer and the seven rounds around a holy flame–each round symbolizing a vow taken by the both of us to love, cherish, protect, and honor one another–Darian turns toward the audience, finding the other most precious love of our lives, sitting on the first corner seat, patiently waiting for his turn.

Darian lifts his hand toward my four-year-old nephew, who walks over to stand next to his father, holding his hand. He’s wearing a matching suit and tie, with his jet-black hair slicked back. I’d gotten him ready earlier this morning before my own hair and makeup started because my little guy refused to get ready with anyone else.

With the bouquet between us, I bend down at eye level. “Are you ready to marry your dad off to me, little man?”

Arman bobs his head enthusiastically, his eyes gleaming at the prospect. “You look so beautiful, Masee.”

My nose tickles as tears spring to my eyes again. “And you look so handsome, my sweetheart. Will you and your dad put the wedding band on me together?”

After another excited nod, he peers up at Darian, who smiles at our exchange before taking the box from his pocket. Arman opens the box and allows Darian to pull out the band.

Before Darian puts the ring on my finger, he looks at his son and winks. “What do you say, little man? Are you ready to capture our sunshine inside this golden band?”

I’m not sure that Arman understands what Darian means, but he seems to know that the answer should be yes, because he nods again. “Yes, Daddy! Let’s do it! Let’s capture her!”

With that, both my men scoot the band over my finger, capturing not only my heart and soul, but all my smiles forever.

The End