“You two will now exchange rings as a symbol of your abiding love for each other. A ring is a constant circle. It is unbroken and everlasting, a symbol of perpetual unity. So, too, will be your commitment to each other and to this marriage, from this day forth, until death do you part.
“Christian, place the ring on Anastasia’s finger.” Elliot hands me Ana’s ring and I position it at the tip of Ana’s left ring finger.
“Repeat after me,” Reverend Michael says. “Anastasia, I give you this ring as a sign of our enduring faith in each other, our unity and our everlasting love.”
I repeat the words, loud and clear, and slip the ring fully onto Ana’s finger.
“Anastasia, place the ring on Christian’s finger,” Reverend Michael says. Elliot flashes a grin at Ana and passes her my ring.
“Repeat after me,” the reverend continues. “Christian, I give you this ring as a sign of our enduring faith in each other, our unity and our everlasting love.”
Ana’s words sound out sweetly for the rest of the congregation to hear, and she slips the ring onto my finger.
Reverend Michael clasps both of our hands in his and says in a booming voice to our audience, “Love is the reason we are here. Marriage is founded on love. These two young people have pledged their everlasting love to each other. We honor them and wish them strength, courage, and trust to grow together, to learn from each other and to remain true to each other on the path that life takes them.
“Christian and Anastasia, you two have agreed to be married and to live together in matrimony. You have declared your love for each other and promised to uphold that love with your vows. With the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now declare you husband and wife.” He releases our hands and Ana beams up at me.
Wife.
Mine.
My heart soars.
“You may kiss the bride,” Reverend Michael says with a huge grin.
“Finally, you’re mine,” I whisper, and pull her into my arms, flush against me, and plant a soft kiss on her lips. There are tiny buttons at the back of her dress and I fantasize about slowly undoing them. I ignore the cheers and applause from our guests, as my body comes alive. “You look beautiful, Ana.” I caress her face. “Don’t let anyone take that dress off but me, understand?” I gaze down at her, trying to convey a sensual promise. She nods, her eyes darkening with desire.
Oh, Ana.
I want to pick her up and carry her to my boyhood room and consummate our marriage. Now. But I’m sure I won’t get away with that.
Get a grip, Grey.
“Ready to party, Mrs. Grey?” I smile at my wife.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
I bask in the warmth of her smile. Taking her hand, I extend the other to Reverend Michael.
“Thank you, Reverend. That was a lovely ceremony. And it was brief.”
“I had my instructions,” he says, and shakes our hands in turn. “Congratulations, both of you.”
I have to release Ana as Kate drags her into a hug, and Elliot wraps his arms around me. “Man, you did it. Congratulations.”
“Christian!” Mia hollers, and barrels into my arms. “I love Ana! I love you!” she gushes, and crushes me.
“Mia. Steady. I need my ribs intact.”
So begins an endless round of congratulations, kisses, and hugs. I gird my loins to tolerate all the unnecessary touching I’m about to endure. It helps that I’m elated. When I turn to my mother, she’s sobbing. I give her a brief hug, mindful of her makeup, while Carrick slaps me on the back. Carla and Bob are next. Ray Steele shakes my hand, squeezing harder and harder.
“Congratulations, Christian. You should know, if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“I’d expect no less, Ray.”
“I’m glad we understand each other.” He grins and releases my now throbbing hand and claps me on the back. I flex my fingers and remind myself that Raymond Steele is ex-army.
Sipping a coupe of vintage Grande Année Rosé, I watch my beautiful wife as she makes her way toward me. We’ve just completed what feels like a major photoshoot with the wedding photographers, and now I’m standing near our table in the hope of having a bite to eat—getting married has given me an appetite. Ana stops every so often to talk to our guests, welcoming them and graciously receiving their good wishes. Her light shines so bright, her smile bringing everyone she greets to life.
She’s an extraordinary person. A stunning woman.
And she’s mine.
When she finally reaches me, I take her hand and pull it to my lips. “Hi,” I whisper. “I’ve missed you.”
“Hi. I’ve missed you, too.”
“You’ve dispensed with your veil. It was lovely.”
“It was. But people kept treading on it!”
I cringe. “That must have been annoying.”
“It was.”
My father takes the microphone. “Good afternoon, all,” he says. “Welcome to our home here in Bellevue, and to Christian and Ana’s wedding. If you don’t know me, I am very proud to say I am Christian’s dad, Carrick. I’m hoping to speak to all of you at some point during the afternoon or evening. In the meantime, you should all have a glass of the good stuff and I’d like us all to raise our glasses to Christian and his beautiful wife, Ana. Congratulations you two. Welcome to the family, Ana. And both of you, be kind to each other. To Christian and Ana!”
My father gives me a warm, tender smile, which I feel all the way to my toes. I raise my glass to him as everyone raises their glasses and the words “Christian and Ana” hover around us all.
“Please make your way to your table. We’ll be starting lunch shortly,” Dad continues.
I pull out Ana’s chair; she sits and I take the seat beside her. From here we have the best view of the entire pavilion. I’m thankful to be seated at last. I’m ravenous. The table looks lovely covered in white linen and floral arrangements with white and pink roses. Our parents join us, with Elliot and Kate and Mia and Bob.
Ana and my mom have opted for a buffet, but as the bridal party, we’re served our appetizers while our guests find their seats. There’s fresh sourdough, with some herby-looking butter, and a delicious cheese soufflé with a delicate garden salad. My wife and I tuck in.
Elliot is going to make a speech. He’s had several glasses of champagne, so this could go either way. We’ve finished our entrée of king salmon en croute and I take a gulp of Bollinger and brace myself.
Elliot winks at me and rises from the table. “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome. I’ve drawn the short straw—I mean, I’m honored to be Christian’s best man, and his brother, and to be asked to make a speech. But forgive me—public speaking is not my thing. Growing up with Christian Grey was not my thing, either. He was a nightmare of a brother. Just ask my folks.”