Page 40 of Matrimonial Merger

“I always feel awkward admitting that,” I said.

“Cal, we needed to find each other to find our partners. For me, that’s what makes it even more beautiful. We both got what we needed in the end—our happily ever afters. And for that, I am so grateful. Thanks for inviting us.”

“Your urging was what put this thing together. Thanks for being my gut check and friend, Kristy.”

She smiled. “Anytime. Daphne deserves it. In a strange way, as happy as I am foryou, I am even happier for her. She has so much light in her eyes. You’ve brought her back to the plucky girl who was never afraid to argue with you in a meeting.”

I snickered. “You’re right. But I’d like to think I just gave her some space to feel that way. It’s all her. She’s the brains.”

I watched Daphne dance—totally caught up in the joy of the moment—with her sisters.

“Make her rest tomorrow,” Kristy said. “She’s going to be exhausted.”

“I know. I don’t even know how she’s upright now.”

“She’s happy. She’s love-drunk. It does wild things to you. Are you taking her anywhere for anactualhoneymoon?”

“Well, since she’s not going to be able to travel in June, I decided to bump that up. We’re going to Hawaii in a few weeks.”

Where it all began.

“She doesn’t know,” I added. “It’s a surprise.”

“You arefullof them. I won’t lie. I’m jealous. You would havenever.”

I snickered. “You hated surprises. They never worked out.”

“So does Daphne.”

“Daphne is… I know what buttons I can push. It’s hard to explain.”

“You’re perfect together. I get it. You do not have to explain. Go on, pull that woman off the dance floor and make sure she drinks water.”

I took Kristy’s advice, finally getting Daphne alone for a minute. It was true that the newlyweds never got much time together at the wedding.

“We need to cut the cake,” I said. “We keep putting it off.”

She pulled me into a slow dance as the music changed, looping her arms around my neck. “Okay. I will cut the cake—and eat it—but then I want to go home.”

I smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

“I am so full,” Daphne said. “I couldn’t want more. I just want to grow old with you and do all the things.”

I kissed her. “It’s all both of us want—and need.”

“Okay, let’s tell them to do the cake. Do not smash it into my face.”

“I wouldnever,” I gasped. “That’s just dickish behavior.”

“Just to be clear, that is a fireable offense.”

“For certain,” I agreed.

We flagged down the wedding planner who called everyone over for the cake cutting. It was the only traditional thing we’d done. Daphne was certain she didn’t want to do a bouquet toss or a a garter toss—which she described as “cringe”. While I agreed to both of those being ridiculous, Dora had protested the bouquet toss. She wasdesperateto catch that damn bouquet.

We cut the cake without even a minor smash and kissed quickly while people clapped. Everyone was so happy for us—even Mom who admitted it was a wonderful wedding and she was happy for us to be happy, too. She’d softened—taking my words in Daphne’s office seriously. It was the wakeup call she’d needed.

“Now, I’m going to eat this cake!” Daphne declared. “And I want a second slice because these are tiny.”

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