Wedding Night

We are dropped off from the party late, several hours more than we expected. The hem of your white dress is wet from water dripping off the rooftops. You don’t care. I look over at you. I’ve seen you happy before, but never this joyful. My heart is full of love tonight and I see yours smile through your eyes.

After I unlock the front door, we trudge up the stairs. Our small apartment is decorated with twinkling Christmas lights that you refuse to take down, claiming they’re “too pretty.” You take off your heels, put a vinyl on the record machine and ask for one last dance. I take you in my arms and you wrap your skinny limbs around my shoulders. I breathe in your hair with its curls and baby’s breath as we move slow like honey to the beat. I think back to the time I first saw your face at that crowded bookstore; times spent laughing, drinking cups of cold coffee; getting lost in each other’s stories and in Chinatown; disappointments we shared as we cried, holding each other like this. I thought about today and how I promised to protect you. You are perfect. Today was perfect.

Our song ends and we lay in bed. I don’t want to take off my tie. You don’t want to take off your dress. I rest my head on your chest. The beading from the bodice lightly scratches my face. I don’t care. I watch you drift away, ready to chase dreams. I think once more about my own and how I just married the woman from them. With heavy exhaustion, I kiss my wife gently and fall asleep.

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