Page 91 of Holiday Wedding
A golden circle with no beginning or end.
Angel
Can I borrow your wings?
Together we’ll build a house, a home.
We’ll grow a family, nice and strong.
Babies who’ll fall asleep in our arms.
Children with eyes of blue.
And every time it storms outside.
I promise to reach for you.
Angel
Can I borrow your wings?
I want to offer you so many things.
A Christmas Day that lasts forever.
A promise to always be together.
I’d offer you the moon, but it’s too high to reach.
So instead, I offer you imperfect me.
To faithfully, gratefully
Your husband be.
Caleb’s looking right at me as the last lines of his song fade into the air. I’m crying, teardrops that wash away my makeup. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to. It’s not because I’m sad. It’s from feeling so loved, so safe, soseen. Back at the airport, Marjorie had talked about happy tears. I hadn’t understood what she meant, but now I do. These are tears of joy. Of a happiness that’s too big to fit in my body, so it rolls out from my eyes.
Caleb gently places the guitar on the ground and comes to me. Careful not to drop it, he takes my diamond encrusted wedding band from Dean and places it on my finger. His touch lingers there, a gentle brush of his fingers over the ring, like he’s sealing it to my skin.
I offer him a smile, my chin quivering. “Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “Thank you for being you and for loving me.”
He lights up at that. He cups my cheeks in his hands.
As soon as Wayne pronounces us husband and wife, Caleb doesn’t wait for Wayne to add his “kiss the bride” line. In front of all our friends and family, he dips me backward, bending me so low that I can feel my veil sweep the ground. He brings his lips to mine and gives me a long, deep kiss.
Our guests go wild. They give us a standing ovation, clapping, whistling, and cheering. When we finally break apart, Caleb tells me, “I love you, Gwen. My wife. Every part of me loves every part of you. Forever.”
I answer back, “and always.”
40
Ten Months Later
Gwen
Mrs. Lawson! Mrs. Lawson! Over here.” The reporters crowd the velvet rope that separates them from the red carpet. I release Caleb’s hand, but he holds onto my fingers. He’s got that worried line between his brows. If we weren’t in front of all these people, I would run my lips over it and smooth it out with a kiss.
“Are you sure?” he asks, keeping his grip tight on me.
