Page 118 of Notes About Vodka

Vodka warms the body, but love warms the soul.”

The cold January air bites at our cheeks as we step out of the taxi and approach the New York City courthouse. Snowflakes gently fall from the gray sky, adding a touch of magic to the day. I can hardly believe it’s happening—Val and I are getting married.

On Russian Christmas, no less, a day that’s going to be so meaningful for both of us in the future.

It seems fast, but once Val proposed, why hold back?

Plus, after calling about changing Val from a student visa to a permanent resident, we found out if we were already married, we could invite his parents over to a future wedding. It would be a dream come true for us both.

We enter the courthouse, the warmth inside a welcome relief from the winter chill. Our closest friends, Rhea, Skipper, and now Sebastian, are waiting for us, each bundled up in coats and scarves but beaming with excitement. Rhea looks radiant, she has a specialglow these days. I think Sebastian is good for her. She’s holding a small bouquet of white roses, a sweet surprise she arranged for me.

I’m so happy they were all able to attend even though they all had to fly back hastily.

“Ready to become Mrs. Zaitsev?” Rhea teases, handing me the flowers.

I laugh, my nerves melting away. “I think so.”

Val takes my hand, his grip firm and reassuring, “It’s going to be Zaitseva. In Russia the female always gets an ‘A’ at the end of her last name.”

“Oooo, I kinda like that Laura Mae Zaitseva.”

We’ve been through so much to get to this point, and I can see the same determination and love in his eyes that I feel in my heart. He’s dressed in a sleek black suit, and despite the simplicity of the courthouse, he looks every bit the groom.

The ceremony is intimate and straightforward, every detail feeling perfect for us. The officiant, a kind woman with a warm smile, leads us through our vows, her voice soft and heartfelt. As I stand before Val, my heart races—am I truly ready for this new chapter?

A flicker of doubt weaves through my thoughts—memories of broken promises and whispered arguments with Sam resurface, tinged with regret and confusion.What if history repeats itself?The ache of past wounds presses against my chest, but beneath it, hope flickers, urging me to believe this time will be different. I blank out for a moment, lost in a daydream, my mind flashing back to my wedding with Sam—the cold, sterile air of the city courthouse, the distant hum of traffic outside, and the faint scent of polished wood. The memory feels distant, like a faded photograph, wrapped in both nostalgia and regret.

I felt so certain then, and yet everything unraveled.But this is different—Val is different, right?My gaze meets his, and in hiseyes, I see not just love, but devotion, a silent promise. The lump in my throat swells, and my voice trembles as I repeat after the officiant, pledging to love, honor, and cherish Val for all my days.

Then, it’s Val’s turn. His steady voice, touched by the lilt of his accent, fills the air. “I promise to stand by you, to support you in everything you do, and to love you with all my heart,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. He adds softly, “?? — ??? ????, ??? ??????. ? ???? ?????? ???? ?????, ? ?????? ????????,” which means, “You are my soul, my destiny. I will love you forever and always protect you.” The Russian words wash over me, a warm, unexpected comfort that makes my heart catch.

It surprises me how deeply they land—familiar and foreign at once, wrapping me in his love. There is no hesitation in his words, no flicker of doubt—only certainty, and it anchors me. There is no hesitation in his words, no flicker of doubt—only certainty, and it anchors me.

When we exchange rings—simple silver bands, their cool surface smooth but carrying the warmth of promise—my fingers tremble. I feel the subtle weight of his ring, more than metal—it’s trust, it’s forever. As I slide his ring onto his finger, the metal glides easily, but the moment feels monumental, grounding me in him. A surge of emotion overcomes me—love, joy, and an almost dizzying relief flood my chest, a heady mix of the past and what lies ahead. This is real. This is happening. My past shadows may linger, but the future, shining like the silver band, is bright—and it’s ours.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant announces with a smile.

Val pulls me close, and our kiss is sweet and tender, a promise of the life we’re about to start together. Our friends cheer, and the small room fills with applause. For a moment, it feels like we’re the only two peoplein the world.

After the ceremony, we step into the snow-covered city, where leftover Christmas lights cast a warm, colorful glow across the sidewalks. Streamers and confetti from the New Year's ball drop glitter against the snow, tiny remnants of celebration. The cold air nips at our cheeks, our breath curling into the night like a fleeting promise, and the softened hum of New York surrounds us like a dream.

Sebastian, camera ready, grins. "Alright, lovebirds! Show me what happiness looks like," he teases. Val’s arm slips around my waist, and his voice finds my ear, soft and rich: “??? ??????, ?? ?????????.”My love, you are beautiful. My heart flutters, and I feel the heat of his affection despite the cold.

Rhea laughs, her voice playful. "Hey, Val! Share some of that romance with the rest of us!"

“No, I’m good,” Val smirks, leaning closer to me, his breath warm as he murmurs, “? ????? ???? ????, ???? ????, ???? ??????.”I love your body, your soul, your sunshine. A shiver runs down my spine, and my cheeks flush with warmth, a reaction to both his words and his closeness. The words, meant only for me, wrap around my heart, making it race with a mix of desire and tenderness.

We stroll into Central Park, the snow crunching underfoot, the icy air tingling against our skin, and the faint scent of pine lingering from the nearby trees.

The city’s usual clamor is softened by winter’s hush, broken only by the distant chime of a street musician and the occasional creak of branches weighed down with snow.

Under a fountain adorned with delicate icicles, where the water murmurs faintly beneath a thin glassy crust, Sebastian captures it all—our clasped hands, the warmth of our playful kisses, and the laughter thatbursts from us when Skip hurls the first snowball.

Val, ever ready, shouts, “Oh, you’re asking for it, Skipper!” He pulls me into a quick, searing kiss, then launches a snowball straight at Skip. The air fills with laughter and flying snow. Rhea joins the chaos, shrieking, “Not the hair!” as snow splatters her curls. We are drenched, breathless, and glowing with joy.

Finally, we retreat to a nearby restaurant, where golden lights and a crackling fireplace welcome us. The air is rich with the scent of fresh bread and pine. We take a corner table, cheeks still flushed from the cold and our hearts full. Rhea raises her glass. “To the happy couple, may your love always feel like this night.”

Skip chimes in with a grin, “And may Val always remember…happy wife, happy life!”

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