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Aimon smiled. “I do.”
Oh, yes. This was most definitely happening.
“Fayette, do you take this man to be your husband, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and care for him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"
Forsaking all others…yes. It was just me and Aimon now. Us against the world. Alright, that was a bit extreme, but we were about to be. Charles would be gone soon, joining my parents wherever they were. And outside of us…no one existed on either of our sides. No one but our daughter.
“I do.”
The minister smiled and nodded. “Aimon, repeat after me.” But I no longer heard his voice. I only heard and saw the man I loved. “I, Aimon, take you Fayette, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. To love, cherish, and protect, till death do us part."
I wiped the tear.
Alone. We’d be alone.
“Fayette, repeat after me.”
And I did.
Each word—the truth. It came from the heart.
“Till death do us part.”
Alone.
Love. I wasn’t sure how I saw it so clearly from Aimon, but it was there, brightening his eyes and smile as the minister asked him once again to repeat after him.
"Fayette, I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love to one another."
“Aimon.” I slowly slid the ring on his finger, repeating the words, trying to push away how my voice sounded so far away. I wanted this. Down to my soul, I did. So why was I not even at my own wedding? Why did I feel like a robot, moving through each moment as if I were outside of my body, instead of savoring every second?
“By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife." He turned to Aimon. “You may now kiss your bride.”
“I most definitely will.”
Cheers exploded from the crowd as Aimon’s mouth captured mine. The last week had been a whirlwind. One I hadn’t been prepared for. The dress, the flowers, the colors…Charles.
Choosing what I liked hadn’t been the hardest part. It had just been added pressure on top of his health. It was declining at an alarming rate. Aimon’s grandfather hardly got out of bed. Eating and drinking was almost impossible. Charles was fading fast, and even though we’d only just met a few months back, my father had loved him, and I could see why. I loved him too. Now, I hadn’t just lost my parents, but I’d be losing Charles as well.
“Wife.” Aimon pulled back, only to kiss me again. “I can’t get over how beautiful you look. Can we stay right here? I feel if I move, I’ll wake up. I’ve been fighting for this for so long. I can’t lose you.”
His words drowned out the surrounding voices. On some level, he was afraid too. He felt the impending change. The fear associated with it.
“You’ll never have to.” I moved in closer, soaking in the love on his face. “This is real, Aimon. You have me forever.”
At his lips pressing into mine once again, I let go of the nagging questions that repeated constantly. Would I somehow lose him too? What if there was an accident? What if something horrible happened to Aimon? For some reason, all I could hear were the keywords Thomas and Charles used: safe, protected. From what? From whom? I felt like I was missing something. Was it the old days they spoke of, or was there reason to worry now?
Alone.
No. I wouldn’t become overwhelmed by these questions or by the thought of being by myself. I’d never had a problem being independent. If anything, I excelled at it. So, why was Charles’s impending death already haunting me and twisting my happiness to mourning and fear?
I took my bouquet from the woman at my side, and Aimon led me down the aisle as strangers reached for our hands or touched our shoulders. My cheeks ached as I held my smile. Roses lined the edge of the chairs, taking me towards the one person I wanted to curse and plead to at the same time. The darkness around his happy eyes was worse than ever, but his smile was so genuine it made tears blur my vision. My pressure on Aimon’s hand was automatic. I moved, and my husband followed as I swept in to give the old man a hug.
He was going to die before I saw him again. Fear told me that. Whether it was right or not, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to remember this moment. I wanted to hold on to it so when I looked back, I could recall his happiness. Maybe even his slight smugness for accomplishing what he’d set out to do.
“There was never a prettier bride, Fayette. I wish your father was here to see you.
“I do too.”
