Page 39
Story: The Temporary Wife
Gianna
The April sun streamed through the windows of our bedroom as I sat at my vanity, watching Summer work magic with my hair. Six months had passed since that terrifying day in the courthouse when our marriage had been challenged, six months of happiness I’d never dared to dream possible. Today, we would marry again. Not out of necessity or fear, but because we chose each other completely.
“Stop fidgeting,” Summer said, securing another bobby pin in the intricate updo she’d spent an hour creating. “You’re going to mess up my masterpiece.”
“I can’t help it. I’m nervous.”
“About marrying the same man you’ve been living with for almost a year?”
“About doing it right this time. About standing up in front of everyone and promising forever when I finally understand what that means.”
Summer’s hands stilled in my hair, and she met my eyes in the mirror. “You’ve known what it means for months, Gianna. You’ve been living it every day.”
She was right. The past six months had been a masterclass in what real marriage looked like. Not the careful distance we’dmaintained in the beginning, or even the passionate rush of new love, but something deeper. The quiet intimacy of morning coffee shared over the newspaper. The way Colby brought me tea when I worked late at the shop. How we moved around each other in the kitchen, a choreography born of paying attention to someone else’s needs.
“There,” Summer said, stepping back to admire her work. “You look beautiful.”
I studied my reflection in the mirror. The dress was simple but elegant, ivory silk that skimmed my curves and fell to just below my knees. Not a traditional wedding gown, but perfect for what this day represented. A new beginning built on the foundation of everything we’d already shared.
“Mom, are you ready?” Luca’s voice carried through the bedroom door, followed by a soft knock.
“Come in, sweetheart.”
The door opened and my breath caught. Luca stood there in his navy suit, looking so grown up and handsome that tears pricked at my eyes. But it was the expression on his face that nearly undid me, pure joy mixed with something deeper, something that looked like relief.
“You look perfect,” he said solemnly. “Dad’s going to be really happy when he sees you.”
“Is he nervous too?”
“A little. But the good kind of nervous. The kind that means something really important is happening.” He moved closer, suddenly shy. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“I used to worry that you might change your mind and move back to your old apartment. Even after you and Dad got married the first time.” He looked down at his shoes. “But then I realized something. You didn’t just marry Dad. You chose us. You chose to be my mom even when it was hard.”
My heart broke a little. “Oh, Luca . . .”
“And I’m really glad you did. Being your son is the best thing ever, and I’m happy Dad asked you to marry him again so everyone knows it’s real.”
I knelt down to his level, not caring if I wrinkled my dress. “I will always choose you, Luca. Always. Being your mom is the greatest privilege of my life.”
He hugged me then, careful not to mess up my hair but holding on tight. “I’m glad we’re a real family now.”
“We were always a real family, sweetheart. Today just makes it official.”
A few minutes later, Summer declared me ready. We made our way downstairs, where Kay was waiting with a corsage and tears in her eyes.
“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You look radiant.”
“Thank you for everything, Kay. For watching Luca, for being there when we needed you, for believing in us even when we weren’t sure ourselves.”
“That’s what family does.” She pinned the corsage to my dress with gentle hands. “And make no mistake, you’ve been family for a long time.”
The ceremony took place in our backyard, under the oak tree where Luca and Colby had hung a tire swing just last week. Folding chairs filled neat rows with everyone who mattered to us. My mother sat in the front row, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. David Voight and his wife were there, along with half the parents from Luca’s soccer team.
But it was the man standing under the oak tree who took my breath away.
Colby wore a charcoal gray suit that brought out his eyes, and his dark hair was freshly cut but still showed signs of his nervous habit of running his hands through it. When he saw me walkingtoward him with Luca at my side, his face transformed with a smile so bright it could have powered the whole town.
The April sun streamed through the windows of our bedroom as I sat at my vanity, watching Summer work magic with my hair. Six months had passed since that terrifying day in the courthouse when our marriage had been challenged, six months of happiness I’d never dared to dream possible. Today, we would marry again. Not out of necessity or fear, but because we chose each other completely.
“Stop fidgeting,” Summer said, securing another bobby pin in the intricate updo she’d spent an hour creating. “You’re going to mess up my masterpiece.”
“I can’t help it. I’m nervous.”
“About marrying the same man you’ve been living with for almost a year?”
“About doing it right this time. About standing up in front of everyone and promising forever when I finally understand what that means.”
Summer’s hands stilled in my hair, and she met my eyes in the mirror. “You’ve known what it means for months, Gianna. You’ve been living it every day.”
She was right. The past six months had been a masterclass in what real marriage looked like. Not the careful distance we’dmaintained in the beginning, or even the passionate rush of new love, but something deeper. The quiet intimacy of morning coffee shared over the newspaper. The way Colby brought me tea when I worked late at the shop. How we moved around each other in the kitchen, a choreography born of paying attention to someone else’s needs.
“There,” Summer said, stepping back to admire her work. “You look beautiful.”
I studied my reflection in the mirror. The dress was simple but elegant, ivory silk that skimmed my curves and fell to just below my knees. Not a traditional wedding gown, but perfect for what this day represented. A new beginning built on the foundation of everything we’d already shared.
“Mom, are you ready?” Luca’s voice carried through the bedroom door, followed by a soft knock.
“Come in, sweetheart.”
The door opened and my breath caught. Luca stood there in his navy suit, looking so grown up and handsome that tears pricked at my eyes. But it was the expression on his face that nearly undid me, pure joy mixed with something deeper, something that looked like relief.
“You look perfect,” he said solemnly. “Dad’s going to be really happy when he sees you.”
“Is he nervous too?”
“A little. But the good kind of nervous. The kind that means something really important is happening.” He moved closer, suddenly shy. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“I used to worry that you might change your mind and move back to your old apartment. Even after you and Dad got married the first time.” He looked down at his shoes. “But then I realized something. You didn’t just marry Dad. You chose us. You chose to be my mom even when it was hard.”
My heart broke a little. “Oh, Luca . . .”
“And I’m really glad you did. Being your son is the best thing ever, and I’m happy Dad asked you to marry him again so everyone knows it’s real.”
I knelt down to his level, not caring if I wrinkled my dress. “I will always choose you, Luca. Always. Being your mom is the greatest privilege of my life.”
He hugged me then, careful not to mess up my hair but holding on tight. “I’m glad we’re a real family now.”
“We were always a real family, sweetheart. Today just makes it official.”
A few minutes later, Summer declared me ready. We made our way downstairs, where Kay was waiting with a corsage and tears in her eyes.
“Oh, honey,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You look radiant.”
“Thank you for everything, Kay. For watching Luca, for being there when we needed you, for believing in us even when we weren’t sure ourselves.”
“That’s what family does.” She pinned the corsage to my dress with gentle hands. “And make no mistake, you’ve been family for a long time.”
The ceremony took place in our backyard, under the oak tree where Luca and Colby had hung a tire swing just last week. Folding chairs filled neat rows with everyone who mattered to us. My mother sat in the front row, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. David Voight and his wife were there, along with half the parents from Luca’s soccer team.
But it was the man standing under the oak tree who took my breath away.
Colby wore a charcoal gray suit that brought out his eyes, and his dark hair was freshly cut but still showed signs of his nervous habit of running his hands through it. When he saw me walkingtoward him with Luca at my side, his face transformed with a smile so bright it could have powered the whole town.
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