Page 138 of This Wild Heart

She sank onto the floor with me, our mouths meeting in a fierce kiss. “Yes,” she said against my mouth. “Yes.Yes.”

We got married three weeks later on a Saturday afternoon in the rain, underneath a clear glass roof of a chapel buried deep in the woods outside Seattle.

The rows were filled with our family. Anya and I had opted for a simple ceremony without attendants because we wanted this moment more than anything, more than any grand plans or big party. Instead, we opted to let our families sit and watch while we got the wedding we deserved.

The doors opened, revealing the most beautiful woman in the world draped in an elegant white dress that hung off her frame like she’d been born to wear it. Golden waves fell around her shoulders, and on her head was a delicate crown of white flowers.

Her arm was tucked into Aiden’s elbow, but her eyes were only for me.

Time stretched out, sweet and slow as she walked down the aisle to the string quartet playing in the corner.

“Mommy,” Leo called. “Is Mommy.”

A ripple of laughter filled the chapel. Anya grinned and gave him a little wave. Sheila whispered something in his ear, and next to her, Isabel handed our son a snack to keep him occupied.

I descended the two steps down to the end of the aisle, my ribs tight at the way her eyes glowed.

My wife.

My everything.

Aiden kissed his daughter’s cheek, his eyes full of tears. Isabel pressed a tissue underneath her eyes, and Sheila grabbed her hand.

Then Anya turned to me, and it was just us, the world around us fading as my brother Erik greeted the guests.

Anya’s finger wove through mine as we stared into each other’s eyes.

We exchanged rings—mine was a custom piece she’d designed with Ian, black metal with a small wooden inlay, something my brother made in his shop using wood from our parents’ cabin. Hers was a simple diamond band, the one she’d chosen after much discussion, and when it was in place on her finger, I let out a sigh of relief.

“I love you,” I mouthed.

She smiled.

“Anya and Parker have chosen to write their own vows,” Erik said. He smiled. “Anya, go ahead.”

She pulled in a sharp inhale, her gaze searching mine before she spoke.

“Parker,” she said, “I vow to choose you every day, not because I have to, but because I want to. I will stand by your side while you face the world and listen to you when you speak. I promise to join your laughter with my own, and when you can't look on the bright side, I will sit with you in the dark.” Her voice trembled, a single tear sliding down her cheek. I squeezed her hand, and she pulled in a shaky breath. “I vow to honor, respect, and cherish you in sickness and health, through sorrows and success, as long as I draw breath.”

After Erik told me it was my turn, I had to pause for a moment before I was able to speak. The sound of quiet weeping came from the pews, and I shook my head as I exhaled a soft laugh.

I sobered quickly, looking into her eyes, feeling as clearheaded as I had in my entire life.

“Anya,” I said, “I promise to be faithful and supportive and to always make you, make our family's love and happiness my priority. I vow to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed, and to sit in the silence when they are not. I will be yours in plenty and in want, in sickness and in health, in failure and in triumph. I will dream with you, celebrate with you, and walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring. I pledge my love, devotion, faith, and honor as I pledge my life to yours. You are my person—my love and my life, today and always.”

She closed her eyes, squeezing a few more tears out.

Erik looked between us. “Anya and Parker, with the exchange of these rings and the vows that you’ve spoken, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiled. “You may kiss your bride.”

With our family cheering and the heavens opening up above us, I cupped Anya’s face in my hands as she smiled.

“Finally,” I whispered.

The End

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