Page 26 of Inked Desires
ARES
I’ve rarely felt this kind of nervousness.
In a few minutes, Andrew will walk into this church and join me. In a few minutes, we’ll bind our lives, our destinies.
And yet, I feel like my heart is beating too hard, too fast. A strange pressure settles in my chest, as if my body itself struggles to grasp what’s happening.
I don’t remember feeling this way the first time.
My marriage to William was different. I loved him, of course. Maybe even still do, in some way. But back then, everything seemed ordinary, unremarkable. I was younger, more carefree, or maybe just more foolish.
Today, it’s something else.
I fully realize what it means.
It’s a bit like a tattoo.
An ink carved beneath the skin, an indelible mark that withstands time. A tattoo isn’t just about looks — it’s a commitment. A choice made knowing it will be there forever. There’s some pain, inevitably. The needle pricks, bites the flesh, leaves a mark that never truly fades. But in the end, only the beauty of the design remains, the meaning we give it, the story it tells.
And Andrew…
Andrew is the ink that marks me deeper than any needle ever could.
He’s this artwork I didn’t draw, but that imprinted itself on me anyway. An indelible trace on my soul, my body, my days and nights. He carved his existence into mine, and I can’t — and don’t want to — erase it.
And today, I’m going to seal that mark forever.
I glance at the guests and smile.
Kiran is there, sitting in the front row, true to himself, his eyes sparkling with contained mischief. He’s always supported me, sometimes even against my will. Today is no exception.
My gaze shifts to Robert.
A few years ago, I never thought he’d attend my wedding. Probably neither did he. But despite everything, despite his mistakes and faults, he has always been part of Andrew’s story. Ours. He hasn’t always made the right choices, but deep down, he wanted to do good. And today, he’s here. Maybe to make amends. Maybe simply because he cares, in his own way.
And then, there’s them.
I wasn’t sure they’d come. I wasn’t even sure Andrew would let me contact them. But they’re here.
His family.
They crossed miles to be here today. I wonder what they feel seeing Andrew after all this time. If they understand the man he’s become. If they grasp everything he’s been through.
A few of my cousins are here too. Voices from the past, childhood memories I sometimes tried to forget, but that now naturally belong in this moment.
The pianist starts to play. The air immediately feels more electric.
The doors open with a whisper of ancient wood.
Andrew appears in the frame, bathed in daylight, and my heart skips a beat.
He walks slowly, and every step he takes toward me steals a bit more air from my lungs. I struggle to breathe, as if my own body refuses to accept what’s happening.
He is…
Damn.
He is stunning.
His black suit is perfectly tailored, hugging his slender but tall frame. The fitted vest highlights the curve of his shoulders, and his bow tie — which he must’ve cursed a dozen times this morning — is tied flawlessly. But it’s not that which takes my breath away.
It’s him.
His hair slightly unruly despite his efforts, framing his face with that natural nonchalance that fascinates me. His intense blue eyes fixed straight ahead, as if I’m the only one at the end of this aisle. He walks with a silent grace, almost unreal, as if floating between two worlds.
Everything around me fades.
The benches, the guests, the décor, even the music becomes a distant murmur.
There is only him.
Andrew.
My Andrew.
Then, suddenly, he glances away slightly.
I see him turn his head, his lips barely parted in a silent breath, as if struggling to believe what he’s seeing.
His family.
His parents are there, seated front row. And though I can’t see their faces from here, I sense the moment emotion hits them. His father bows his head slightly, his mother discreetly brings a hand to her face.
They’re crying.
I notice the tension in Andrew’s jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers. He who’s always tried to hide what he feels, who prefers to deflect with a sharp remark or sarcastic laugh… here, he hides nothing.
He lets us see what this means to him.
He lets us see that, somehow, I managed to bring them together.
His eyes finally return to me.
And he walks forward.
Time feels like it slows, every step an eternity suspended between us.
Then, finally, he reaches me.
He stands there, just in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch his face. But I don’t dare. Not yet.
His gaze plunges into mine, and I’m drawn in.
I don’t know how long we stand like that, staring, letting the other read everything we never could say out loud. There’s relief in his eyes, tenderness, but also that deep burn, that intensity that makes me feel alive.
He’s beautiful.
Not just because of the perfectly fitted suit or the light dancing on his skin. He’s beautiful because he’s Andrew, because he’s himself, with all he’s been through, all he’s become. Because he’s standing before me, ready to say yes.
The ceremony begins.
The priest’s words are background noise. I barely hear them, too absorbed by the presence of my future husband, by the fact that in a few minutes, we’ll be bound forever.
Andrew takes a breath, and for the first time since entering the church, I see him truly nervous. His fingers tremble slightly as he squeezes my hands in his. But when he speaks, his voice is clear, soft, achingly sincere.
— Ares… I could tell you I never thought I’d end up here. That marriage, to me, was a prison, something from the past, from memories I wanted to erase. And yet, here we are.
Because you showed me love isn’t chains, but a choice. You never tried to hold me back, never tried to force me to be someone else.
You loved me as I am. Even when I didn’t believe it. So today, it’s my turn. To choose. To say yes. To promise that no matter what awaits us, I’ll always be there.
To love you, to support you, to make you grumble too, because I know you love that. I love you, Ares. More than I can say. And I promise you, wherever life takes us, my heart will always be tattooed with yours.
My throat tightens. I struggle to breathe, to think. How does he always do that? How does he always find the words to make me fall even deeper?
I squeeze his hands tighter and dive into his eyes. He waits, and I know it’s my turn.
— Andrew… I’m not good with words. You know that. I never knew how to express what I feel with pretty phrases or big speeches. But with you… with you, it’s different.
Because you’ve always seen what I didn’t say. Because you understood my silences, my looks, my gestures, even when I thought I was a damn impenetrable wall.
I love you, Andrew. In a raw, indelible way, like a tattoo carved into skin that can’t be erased. You and I, we carry scars. We have painful pasts. We know what it is to fall.
But today, I promise you one thing: you’ll never have to get up alone again. I promise to be there, even when you do that damn habit of rubbing your temple when you overthink.
Even when you grumble because I left my stuff lying around. Even when you want to strangle me because I ate the last burger. I promise to love you, in all your shades, in all your contradictions.
To love you even when life sucks, even when nothing is easy. Because you, Andrew… you’re the most beautiful work I’ll ever carry.
His lip trembles slightly, and I know if I keep looking at him like this, I’ll break too.
The priest speaks, but honestly, I’m not listening. All I hear is the erratic beating of my heart and Andrew’s breath mixing with mine.
Then comes the exchange of rings.
I gently slip the ring onto his finger, savoring the moment as if it’s the only thing that matters. He does the same, and I feel a strange warmth spread through me as the cold metal touches my skin.
— You may now kiss your husband.
I don’t wait a second longer.
I take Andrew by the nape and pull him close, capturing his lips with a tenderness mixed with passion. He responds instantly, his hands clutching my suit as if wanting to anchor this moment in our flesh.
And at that precise moment, nothing else exists.
Nothing, but him.
Nothing, but us.