Chapter 13 - My Second Wedding
Our wedding had forty-two guests.
My first had one hundred and eighty.
The first cost more than some houses.
The second cost less than Beatrice’s old annual clothing budget.
I preferred the second.
Mom walked me down the aisle.
Rosa attended.
Madeline flew from Denver.
Maya gave a toast containing three compliance jokes.
Rebecca reviewed the prenup and then threatened to invoice us during the reception.
Noah’s vows were simple.
“I promise never to make belonging conditional on obedience.”
That one got me.
Mine:
“I promise to tell you when I’m afraid instead of pretending fear makes me weak.”
We kissed.
No family dynasty.
No financial rescue.
No hidden collateral.
At breakfast the next morning, Noah burned pancakes.
I stared at them.
He looked worried.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Breakfast.”
He knew.
His face softened.
“Want to eat somewhere else?”
“No.”
I sat.
He put a pancake in front of me.
“Apologize to my mother right now.”
I froze.
He immediately looked horrified.
“Oh God. Terrible joke.”
For one second, silence.
Then I started laughing.
So hard I cried.
Noah joined.
“I am so sorry.”
“That was awful.”
“I know.”
“Truly awful.”
“Can we annul?”
“Considering it.”
He slid the syrup toward me carefully.
“Please don’t flip the table.”
“No promises.”
May you like
And suddenly a sentence that once carried terror had become a terrible joke in a safe kitchen.
That mattered more than I could explain.
