“Dancefloor?” Jessica says hopefully.
“You haven’t met Rami, have you? Or should I say, DJ Lunar.”
“DJ Lunar is going to be DJing at your wedding?” Taylor asks before her jaw drops completely.
“Not at my wedding, silly, but at the Reception over in Guinness Storehouse, yes.” I smile. “Now, come on, let’s take some photos.”
“Yes, and then I want to go get some with the boys,” Ma says before quickly adding. “The boys and Loncey, I mean.”
I give her a smile. She’s trying, and most of the time, she gets it right.
Much to my surprise, taking photos with everyone is a lot of fun. We do various combinations of people and take it in turns behind the camera. Well, they all do as it’s apparently pertinent I’m in every single photo. There’s something very freeing in not thinking about the angle, the lighting or the composition of each snap. Instead, all I think about is smiling. Smiling with my ma. Smiling with Bella. Smiling with Jenna. Smiling with precious little Pattie. Smiling in a truly happy sandwich with Taylor and Jessica. Smiling in a silly selfie I take of us all.
Smiling. Smiling. Smiling.
And then, suddenly, it’s time to go.
Mam leaves first, making her way to Loncey’s hotel around the corner from the venue. And then Jessica, Taylor, Jenna and Patience all get in a taxi heading to City Hall. Finally, the driver for the car I booked for Arabella and myself calls her phone to let her know he’s outside.
After she hangs up, she looks at me and I feel my stomach flip. But not with fear. Not with panic. With anticipation. With hope. With love.
“Let’s go,” I say, and I reach for my clutch bag and head to the door.
“Maeve, your phone, you goose!” Arabella calls out a moment later, pointing to where I left the device on my coffee table.
I shake my head at her, hearing my hair move against my blazer. “Leave it here,” I say. “I don’t need it.”
Arabella looks close to horrified. “You’re sure?”
“I’m paying professionals to take photos and videos but I have no plans to share any of this online. This is just for us,” I say, meaning me and Loncey, yes, but also my family and friends, all these people who have shown me so much love over my lifetime.
We both told our followers that we were a couple around six months ago. I did so by sharing a photo they took of the painting they did on my back, and Loncey announced it with a video of me dancing for them under Nevada’s night sky during a return trip to Vegas. A day later, the SAFE campaign photos came out and Loncey and I had to leave our phones switched off in order to get anything done. It’s safe to say we pretty much made the Internet explode for a few days as people struggled to believe that a polyamorous ethical porn star could be in a relationship with an asexual beauty and lifestyle influencer, but in general, the response was very positive. While we do now feature in each other’s content occasionally, we agreed our wedding wasn’t something we were willing to share with the world.
“Girl, you’ve changed.” Arabella cocks an eyebrow at me but then approaches me and stretches up to kiss my cheek. “And I like it. I like it a lot.”
“I love you,” I say, finding her hand and squeezing it. “I love you, a lot.”
“Straight backatcha,” she says and she gives my arm a swift yank. “Now, come on. Let’s go make an honest woman out of you.”
I groan and I’m about to knock that antiquated expression out of the air but I can’t help but hear the truth in the word ‘honest’. I am being honest with myself by marrying Loncey. I am finally being who I am without conditions or explanations or fear. And more than that, I am loved for being that person. It’s not that I think I was living my life in a dishonest way beforehand, more that I was not being completely honest with myself. My truths were always there, I just wasn’t aware of them until now. I smile thinking about an analogy that Loncey would be proud of, because it’s not unlike the way our galaxy is made up of more stars than we can see, more stars than we can count, butregardless those stars are still there, they’re still dazzling little truths in the sky.
“Let’s go and make an honest woman out of me,” I repeat and let Arabella pull me towards my star-filled future.
Loncey
“Oh Lawrence, honey, you look…. You look stunning,” my mother says with a hand pressed against her chest.
“You don’t look so bad either,” I say, taking in her Afrikana print dress that hangs loosely on her curves apart from where it is cinched around her waist with a thick woven belt.
“Well, you had to get it from somewhere.” She props a hand on her hip.
“But seriously,” she turns me to face her, both of her hands now on my cheeks like I’m still a little child and she really wants me to pay attention, “you are a beautiful human and I am so proud of everything you do, of how true you are to yourself, especially now you’re putting your own needs first. Doing what you want, when you want.”
“It’s just a silk camisole, Mom,” I say, glancing down at what I’m wearing with tailored black pants.
“No.” Her eyes turn hard. “I’m talking about you living here. With Maeve.”
“Oh, that.”
