32. February 15, 2024: Wilder

"Ican do this, right?" I glance at Gus in the mirror as I straighten my bow tie, fussing with the fabric and making sure it's straight.

He doesn't look up from the magazine he's reading and casually leans against the doorframe of the small room that connects to the chapel. "You've done weirder shit."

"I've never married a woman after a three-month engagement and written my own vows to say in front of everyone we know."

"Well, lucky for you, she only invited a handful of people, and you know five people from work."

I nod my head. That's true. It's not like I have family to invite to my own wedding. Gus is my best man, and the other guests on my side of the chapel are the guys from the garage and their partners that probably just showed up for the reception food and beer. Savannah's my family now, and it's about to be legal.

Nerves flutter through my stomach, and I take deep, cleansing breaths through my nose.

"You know what's funny?" Gus asks.

"Please tell me something funny. I'm about to lose my shit."

"Savannah scheduled your wedding for noon on the day you usually bail on your cuffing season partners."

That detail wasn't lost on me. We had settled on the date of our wedding, wanting it to be the day we realized dating contracts were stupid and honesty was best, but I laughed when I saw the official invitation. "Why noon?" I had asked. She responded that she preferred to take her time and eat a nice breakfast. She won't be rushed.

That's my girl.

I pat my pockets and make sure the paper is in them, even though I have it all memorized. If I freeze and space out, I need the paper in my pants to make sure I can get through the vows I wrote for her. "You have the ring, right?" I ask Gus.

"Right here," he says, tapping his breast pocket. "Want me to hold the vows you wrote and keep checking for?"

I move my hand. "Is it that obvious that I'm worried I'll forget them?"

He pushes himself off the doorframe and saunters over to me. Turning me away from the mirror, he straightens my collar and twists the bowtie ever so slightly into a perfect position. "I think you'll remember them just fine," he says, tapping me on the shoulders. "And if you don't, I think you'll look at her and make up some bullshit on the spot."

I blow out a breath, and Gus leads me to the door. "Come on. We need to get you hitched."

We get into position at the front of the church, and I nod to the pastor. I take a quick glance at the crowd behind me and see the twenty or thirty people we invited and relax. I know every face in this room, and it's not nearly as intimidating as I thought it'd be.

The music starts and Melissa walks down the aisle in a bridesmaid's dress the color of mint chocolate chip ice cream. When she reaches the front of the church, she winks and nods toward the door.

My breath hitches as the wedding march begins and Savannah starts down the aisle in her dress. It's simple with no lace, beads, or glitter. There's no train she'll have to carry over her elbow all night, and there's no obnoxiously long veil. Her dress is white and runs tight against her breasts and hips until it reaches the tops of her toes. Her veil is a pillbox hat style, pinned in place somewhere I can't see. Her long hair is down and curls just past her shoulders. The overall effect is timeless, classy, and downright sexy. I bite my lip as she meets my eyes and walks down the aisle, not even noticing the guests as she passes them.

Gus elbows me from the back. "Put your boner away, tiger. At least the dress will be easy to unzip later and ball up on the floor."

"Thank fuck for that," I whisper at him out of the side of my mouth.

She approaches me, hands her large bouquet to Melissa, and takes her hand in mine. As the music ends, the pastor clears his throat to begin the service, and I ignore him.

I kiss her. She jumps a little and squeals as the church erupts with laughter, but I lean forward and press my lips to hers because I can't not kiss her for another minute. The pastor chuckles as Savannah relaxes into the kiss, and her tongue darts against mine as we move our lips together.

Gus puts his hand on my shoulder. "Dude, you're getting ahead of yourself here."

I pull back and smile.

"We got a little out of order," the pastor says, a smile in his voice. "Let's start at the beginning. Dearly beloved…"

I space out for the rest of the introduction because I can't think of anything but this woman in front of me. Redness from my kiss brightens her cheeks and she mouths, "I love you." I guess she's ignoring the pastor, too. She squeezes my hand, and I squeeze it back, licking my lips because they feel lost without her.

"You both wrote your own vows. Is that correct?" the pastor asks, jolting me out of my thoughts of spreading my soon-to-be wife's legs apart right here in a church pew.

"Yes, sir," Savannah nods.

"Are you starting, or should I?" I ask, my voice shaking.

The crowd laughs, and Savannah smiles. "I'll start," she says, straightening her shoulders and inhaling to take a breath before she starts on her vows.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping she won't tell me to fuck off or that she's decided not to marry me.

"Wilder," she begins, and I breathe easier at her tone. "I thought you were simply a cuffing season partner to take me to holiday parties and lunch. But you grew into something more. You're kind, you love life, but more importantly, you taught me to love life. You taught me to loosen up and let go. You taught me to trust other people and focus on things like free time and friendship. Along the line, I fell in love with your carefree spirit and your sexy smile. I promise to always love you."

She finishes and exhales slowly. Her smile never falters, but it trembles with nerves like she's looking for proof that she did well with her vows. I squeeze her hand and start on mine, hoping I remember every sincere word I wrote down.

"Savannah, when I met you, I only wanted a warm place to sleep and some hot meals. I was a dedicated bachelor and enjoyed moving around from campsite to campsite. I'd never known a real home.

"You showed me what a real home could be like. Suddenly, I had someone that kissed me when I left for work, asked about my day with real interest, and made me want to settle down and make her happy. Seeing your smile every morning is something I never want to be without again. So, I'm making you these promises."

She smiles with interest, and the rest of the guests whisper like they're interested in getting the ceremony over with.

"Will I love you in sickness and in health? Yes. Will I love you for richer or poorer? Yes. But I also promise some little things. I, Wilder Charles Lynx, will always hang the toilet paper the right way. I'll dress up like the jelly to your peanut butter until my dying day. I'll eat a bagel any way you like it. I'll try to like Middle Eastern food, and I vow to always support your love of pumpkin spice. I'll put the seat down and won't use your bubble bath."

"Now, these are promises a man should make before a woman marries him," an elderly woman says from Savannah's side. "I had to tell my husband I'd obey him. This generation does it right."

I keep going, even though the church chuckles along with the woman. "I'll always watch your Christmas movies with you, even if I think they're ridiculous. I promise to always have a motorcycle helmet in your size and favorite color." I take a deep breath. Savannah's lip trembles in front of me, but I have more. "I promise to never let you feel alone or worried ever again, and I promise to always make February fifteenth of every year special for you and make you feel as wonderful as you deserve."

I give a little nod when I'm finished, signaling to the world that I'm done. I hope I didn't forget anything.

A quick glance at the congregation tells me I got it all and that I got it right. Women wipe their noses on tissues or sleeves, and men look away from their wives' glares, probably pissed that I made them look bad. I look away from all of them because the only one that matters is in front of me.

I can't, for the life of me, figure out why I ran away from this my whole life. What was I so afraid of?

Love like this is nothing to be afraid of.

The pastor drones on for the rest of the ceremony, but I focus on Savannah. Gus nudges me from behind when Savannah moves closer, and I realize I missed the direction to kiss. "Now, moron," Gus grunts from the back, and I lean toward Savannah.

She wraps her arms around me and looks up at me with the smile I've learned to love and whispers, "I'm going to hold you to those vows, you know?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way, snickerdoodle," I whisper into her lips.

THE END