Page 125 of Wedding Crasher

‘Tom and Emily have written their own words for todays ceremony,’ Jonny said, looking expectantly at Tom, who cleared his throat and reached for a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked down at it for a few seconds in silence, and then gazed up at Emily.

‘Em. Emily. My beautiful, lovely Emily. I’ve spent so long trying to decide what to say to you today. I wrote this speech …’ he shrugged, folding the piece of paper back up and putting it away again. ‘And now it doesn’t seem enough.’

He held both of his wife’s hands in his own.

He shook his head, a look of wonder in his eyes as he gazed at Emily.

‘I don’t know what I did to earn you, and lord knows I’ve been an idiot sometimes, but we’re still here, aren’t we?’ His thumbs stroked over Emily’s knuckles as he spoke in the pin-drop silent room. ‘Everything I’ve learned of love I’ve learned from you. I’ve learned that when you love someone,reallylove someone, it’s not all hearts and flowers. Sometimes it’s the hardest thing in the world, and the only thing that could be harder is to not love them anymore. So you do. You love them through it all, and afterwards you look at them and you think thank god.’

Emily’s fingers tightened around Tom’s as he carried on speaking.

‘I think thank god I didn’t walk away, because I’d have missed out on all of this, and I’d never have known life could be this good, or that I’d ever get the chance to stand here with you like this again in our lifetime.’

Marla’s eyes slid to Gabe’s profile as she listened to her friends in awe. She knew his features intimately enough that she’d be able to draw him with her eyes closed. And there, at last, after almost a decade of presiding over other people’s weddings, Marla Jacob’s finally got it.

Marriage wasn’t about the wedding day, or the details, or even about the couple stood at the altar. It was about love, that collective, all encompassing, abiding emotion that kept the earth turning and bought wars to an end. About romantic love, about the love between a parent and the child they’d lay down their life for, about the bond between loyal, lifelong friends.

Gabe had asked her to marry him countless times over the years, and every time she’d said an affectionate no. Not because she didn’t love him. She loved him with all of her heart; she just didn’t need a bit of paper to say so.

But sitting there listening to Tom speak, knowing that Gabe wanted to be her husband, she changed. She wanted his ring on her finger, his name after hers. After their babies. She smiled, smoothing a hand over Isadora’s infant curls as Emily started to speak.

‘You said something to me a few years ago, Tom. You said “I don’t know what the future holds, I just want it to hold you.” It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. I knew it and I didn’t tell you at the time, and I’ve always regretted it, so I’m telling you now. For better, for worse, we said in our wedding vows. You’re my better in every way. Better at forgiveness, better at risotto, better at loving. You’re the best man ever, and I’m the luckiest girl.’

Tom smiled, smoothing Emily’s hair behind her ear.

‘Our vows seemed so easy back then, didn’t they?’ he said. ‘Two clueless kids dancing around on a paradise beach saying words that were too big for them. Not anymore. I’ve watched you lose your guts most mornings through two pregnancies, and I’ve watched you nurse our children every time they’re ill. When I say in sickness and in health today, I understand what it means.’ He paused for a moment to gather himself together.

‘For richer for poorer, we said. I thought at the time that it spoke of money … of the bigger house we dreamed of, or the perfect job just over the horizon. I know better now. None of that stuff matters.’ Tom slid the eternity ring onto Emily’s finger beside her wedding ring and then lifted her palm flat over his heart. He didn’t care who heard him, as long as the woman standing in front of him did. ‘You’ve made me a rich man, Emily. In here, I’m a fucking millionaire.’

Jonny wiped the back of his hands over his chiseled cheekbones as Tom tugged his bride-again into the circle of his arms and kissed her. He’d worried over nothing. He’d barely needed to speak, and it was easily the most romantic ceremony he’d ever presided over.

The jubilant peal of wedding bells rang out as Tom turned and beckoned to Adam to join them as they hugged. Gabe handed Isadora over to Emily as the family of four made their way up the aisle to clapping and cheers from their friends and loved ones. They were picture perfect, Tom’s arm slung around Emily’s shoulders, his other hand clasped in Adam’s, the baby on Emily’s hip.

As the guests spilled out into the gardens behind the chapel, they discovered the enchanted tea-party scene that Jonny, Sean, Marla and Gabe had painstakingly created for their friends. The sun’s haze cast an idyllic glow over proceedings as the champagne flowed into vintage cut-crystal flutes and tea was poured into a variety of pretty, mismatched china teacups. Conversation and laughter drifted around the gardens, underscored with melodies picked out by the steel drum duo Jonny had insisted on sourcing because Emily had mentioned it as one of her over-riding memories of their beachside wedding.

‘And suddenly those hours on ebay buying tea-cups feels worth it,’ Jonny said, his hand on Sean’s leg beneath the long, gingham covered trestle table set beneath the oak tree. He’d known the exact bohemian glamour look he’d wanted to create for Emily, and had pulled out all of the stops.

Sean reached out for a sandwich from one of the several piled high cake stands running down the centre of the table. Ruth had set jam jars of wild flowers between the stands, and a deep victoria sponge sat on top of a cream vanity case in the centre, ruby jam and cream oozing between its layers.

‘Peanut butter and jam?’ Sean said, peeling his sandwich apart and peering inside.

Jonny shrugged. ‘Gabe insisted. His favourite, apparently.’

‘He’s full of surprises, that man,’ Sean murmured. They both watched Gabe laugh as he handed champagne glasses to Cecilia and Robert, who looked more loved up than teenagers with his hand resting on her bottom. It was a toss up who fancied Gabe more, Jonny or Sean; they both harboured a healthy dose of lust for the local undertaker.

Across the lawn, Tom and Emily slow-danced beneath a candelabra Jonny had strung from the bough of a tree, lost in their own world.

‘Happy?’ he murmured against her ear.

Emily didn’t have the words to tell him just how happy he made her, so she put all of her emotions into kissing him instead.

‘Me too, beautiful,’ he murmured a few minutes later, his voice thick with love. ‘Me too.’

Gabe walked through the cool, empty chapel in search of Marla. He’d spotted her heading inside a few minutes before, probably to escape the heat of the midsummer sunshine.

‘Marla?’ A perplexed frown furrowed his brow at the answering silence. He walked the length of the aisle, letting out a slow sigh of relief as he caught sight of her sitting out in the small, shady front garden.

‘Too warm?’ he said, handing her the glass of iced water he’d poured for her in the chapel kitchen.

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