“Thank you, Daddy. I love him so much; he really does make me happy.”
“That’s all that we can ask for,” he says, as my mother pushes her way into the bridal room in my family’s home church. The place I grew up attending every Sunday that I was able to with my parents.
“Oh, Megan,” my mom gushes. “You look so radiant. Drew is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
I take one last look at my dress. The one that his grandmother insisted on paying for. The one that cost way more than I could have ever imagined paying for a dress that I’d only wear for one day, but also the one that I fell madly in love with and knew that it was the one the moment I tried it on at the bridal store.
“Thanks,” I tell her, as I feel my cheeks heating in a blush.
“I think they’re ready for us,” Lucy says, poking her head in the door. Besides Drew, Lucy has become one of my best friends, so when we returned from Paris, she was the first person that came to mind that I’d want standing up next to me, and she accepted the position immediately. She ran off with Adam shortly after we returned from that trip, to elope after she found out she was expecting. Now, at six months pregnant, she can’t hide that fact anymore and is the cutest pregnant woman around.
“Let’s get you married then!” my dad exclaims.
Because the controls to my chair are on my right side, Dad stands to my left so that I can still slip my arm through his as we make our way down the short aisle. We wanted things small and private, so mostly the church is filled with family members and a few friends. Drew has Tyler as his best man, and Simon as a groomsman standing up with him today.
The doors open to the sanctuary, and for the first time today, I get to see my soon-to-be husband. He looks so handsome, standing up there in his suit. All tailored to fit him like a glove. He looks up and our eyes connect. I watch as he takes me in, our connection being broken when everyone stands, awaiting my entrance. The music starts and Dad and I start our short trip down the aisle, quickly making our way to the end. Drew steps forward a few feet, meeting us where the two front pews are. My mother steps forward and places a kiss on my cheek as Dad and Drew shake hands. Dad drops Drew’s hand and engulfs me in a hug, kissing my cheek in the process. “Love you, baby girl. Make sure he treats you right,” he whispers into my ear.
“Always,” I whisper back to him, answering him on both fronts. I know he knows that Drew will always take care of me, always love me, always make me his priority. He’s already shown that so much in the year and a half we’ve been together.
“You look gorgeous,” Drew whispers to me once we’ve both taken our places at the front of the church. He’s taken a seat on a chair that was placed up front for him, so that we’re at the same level and able to look into one another’s eyes as we recite our vows to one another.
“You’re looking pretty dapper yourself,” I tell him.
“Dearly beloved…” the preacher starts the ceremony in traditional fashion, and before I even know it, he’s pronouncing us husband and wife and telling Drew he can kiss me.
Drew reaches forward, cupping my face with both of his large hands, and slowly brings his lips to mine. His kiss is tender yet demanding. It leaves me wanting more, yet satisfied for the time being. “I love you, Mrs. Montgomery,” he whispers against my lips before pulling back and standing up.
“I love you, too, Mr. Montgomery,” I tell him as he grabs hold of my hand while we make our way down the aisle. Once out into the foyer, we line up along with the wedding party for the traditional line of guests to greet us.
Drew
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONG after we’d returned from Paris for her to decide she wanted to come home and get married in her hometown. Thankfully, my family was completely on board with that, with the knowledge that we’d have a second reception once we return so that all of my grandmother’s and parents’ socialite friends can say they attended the party of the year, apparently. I rolled my eyes at the notion, but if it made my grandmother happy, and my wife was okay with it, then I guess it didn’t hurt to go along with it.
But first, tonight. Today, I married the most wonderful woman. My best friend and soul mate. I have plans for her tonight, for the rest of our lives, but first, it’s my turn to take her for a spin on the dance floor.
I walk to where Megan and her dad moved off to the edge of the dance floor. “Hi,” I greet her, dropping down to my haunches. I lean in and kiss my wife on the lips.
“Hi,” she says on a breath against my lips.
“Can I have this dance?” I ask.
“Of course!” she says as I scoop her up into my arms. Her arm snakes around my neck like it has so many times, and I adjust my grip on her slightly as we walk out to the middle of the dance floor for our first dance as husband and wife. While I don’t mind spinning her around on the floor while she’s in her chair, I much prefer to do so with her in my arms. Unconventional be dammed.
As the opening chords to All of Me by John Legend begin, I lightly brush my lips across Megan’s. She parts her lips so easily for me, and I take advantage and deepen the kiss as we slowly turn around the floor.
We both break the kiss, attempting to keep things as family friendly as we can, with a room full of friends and family all watching us. “I can’t wait to get you alone tonight, how much longer do we have to stay here?” I ask, our foreheads pressed together.
“A few more hours,” Megan answers on a laugh, her head falling back as her laugh falls easily from her lips.
“I say we cut out early.”
“I’m sure you do, but we’re kind of the main event,” she teases me as the song continues on in the background.
“I have so many ideas for what’s going to happen tonight,” I say against her skin, and I trail my nose up the side of her neck as I drop small kisses.
“Mhmmmm,” Megan moans in response. “First, we have to cut the cake and toss the bouquet.”
“Is that all?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
“No, that’s not all. That’s the minimum. We still have to mingle and talk to all of our guests.”
“We can talk later,” I protest. “I have a wife I need naked and underneath me.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I’ll make sure you make lots of noise.”
“What am I going to do with you?” she says, throwing her head back once again, laughing at my antics.
“Whatever you’d like,” I say confidently. “This ring here,” I say, wiggling my left hand so she can feel my finger that she placed my wedding band on just a few hours ago, “gives you full range to do whatever it is you like. I’ll always be yours, just like you’ll forever be mine.” I seal my words with another kiss as the final chords of the song play out over the sound system and the cheers of our guests ring out.
I watch from the edge of the dance floor as my wife—my wife—spins around with her dad as they dance to the song she picked for the father-daughter dance. The look of complete elation and satisfaction on her face made everything about today worth it, a thousand times over. When I proposed this summer in Paris, I didn’t care when or where Megan wanted to get married, as long as she said yes.