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“Whatever.”
“All right, so Mr. Funny Guy’s on vacation. I get Mr. Deep in Thought. What’s going on?”
I give him an incredulous look. How can he not fucking get why I’m a mess? “I don’t think you understand what today is, because you had it so easy.”
“Easy? You think Shayla and I had it easy?” he scoffs, leaning against the wall.
“You went through some shit, some rough shit, man. Don’t mistake that for what your love was.”
“True.” Instead of fighting, he goes along with everything.
“It’s almost fucking comical to think about us getting married, isn’t it?” I laugh in hysteria, bordering on the line of complete madness.
“No, I think this is a true testament of real.”
“We are real, and maybe that’s why this feels like a dream. I’ve wanted her for so long now that it seems surreal. How can we feel normal, when everything has been such chaos for the past eight years? We have nothing to fight for anymore, and the silence is both deafening and a relief.”
“Dude.” Stepping within a few feet of me, he crosses his arms and takes my full attention. “You have more to fight for now. You have to fight to keep that love raw and new. You have to fight to keep her forever now.”
“I don’t want her to ever doubt us or run from me again.” I refer to all the times Lana and I have fought, lost each other, and then come back together again, repeatedly.
“Kingston, she ain’t running. Shit, she’s been tripping into your arms over and over again.”
I ponder that thought, sip it in and swish it around. “You’re right. I think it’s the ‘too good to be true’ type of thing. We’re finally here, and I can’t tell my head from my fucking ass.”
“I can. They are both as fucking big as your ego. Now, let’s do this. We’re late, and yes, before you dig for a compliment, you look like a stone-cold pimp.”
Fist bumping, I jump on the balls of my feet, bouncing up and down and getting the blood flowing through my stiff body. “All right. Fuck.”
We make our way through the house, out into the backyard, and down the stone pathway to the garden, where our families and some of our friends we’ve made over the years sit.
The set up looks amazing, simple, but very much the touches of
Lana. She has us standing underneath some arch covered in lilies and moss. The white chairs are wrapped in white satin bows, and the white rose petals lining the path that will carry Lana to me, set the perfect scene.
There are speakers hidden somewhere, and light music plays as my father, Trey, and I talk, waiting for Lana. Becky and Kathy make small talk, and Ben sits with his new wife, Sadie. That shit was unexpected; I swore he would never settle down. But then again, I was convinced I never would either, and here I am.
The song changes, and I see my sister in her beautiful strapless, formfitting, rose gold bridesmaid dress coming down the walkway. Smiling, she walks slowly with Princeton on her hip, and we share a look, our bond bringing me some peace of mind.
My little man looks handsome, matching me in a small three-piece suit. He is lively and alert, making little noises as he passes the people in the small crowd. When he sees me, he lets out a high-pitched scream with a smile, his little teeth showing.
Before Shayla hands Prince to Becky, I give him a kiss. “Love you, buddy. Let’s make Mama mine, yeah?”
“Mama,” he whispers, bringing his hands to his mouth. That was his first and most used word.
“Yeah, Mama. She’s ours, huh?” I teasingly pinch his cheeks then let Becky have him.
Shayla leans up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. “You got this, big guy.” She lingers close to my ear for a second longer, but I pull away when I hear a familiar song coming out of the speakers. Suddenly, my voice carries out, playing Lana’s song. I don’t know how she knew about it, since that night never happened.
“Did you tell her about this?” I ask both Trey and Shayla.
“Yes, what better moment?” Shayla replies.
Opening my mouth to speak, I see movement out the corner of my eye and give my full attention to the stirring figures.
Jeffrey is invisible when the vision of my wildest dream moves toward me. Her dress is stunning, but not nearly as breathtaking as the body that wears it. Skintight with a long train, all fucking lace and strapless, showing me her slim shoulders and tan collarbone. Lana is a goddess, and I’m standing in the light of her glory, where I don’t deserve to be.
The tears come on there own, and I let out a whispered, “My queen,” covering my mouth as I lose myself, not sure how not to. I use my knuckles to try to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming errantly. Lana starts to cry when she captures my reaction, and with each step she takes, my hands shake with the urge to reach out and steal her away. I don’t know how I’m going to get through a moment of this day without tears in my eyes.
