Page 104 of Prince of Control
The guests all stand to watch her float down the aisle, but her gaze locks on mine. Her love shines in her eyes–her choice is clear. A tiny smile, a knowing smile, plays on her lips. Whatever she sees on my face must confirm what she means to me. And she knows she undoes me.
My wife, my beautiful wife, is marrying me for real this time. She’s more than willing.
My bratva uncle Nikolai officiates. I asked him because he’s the kind of guy who can hold space. He has a calm, accepting quality that has always made him a favorite of mine. Since it’s not a real wedding, it doesn’t matter that he’s not a pastor or a judge.
“We are gathered today to celebrate the union of two of our own–Benjamin Baranov and Lara Turgeneva,” he says. “Like many of you here, I remember each of their births. I remember them playing together as tots. Their mothers laughingly plotting their future marriage. And now, years later, through many twists of fate, those lightly-spoken words have become a reality.”
My throat closes.
I can’t wait. I reach for Lara, taking the bouquet from her hand and tossing it behind me as I cradle the side of her face and kiss the hell out of her.
The guests erupt into laughter and cheers.
“Oh…okay.” Nikolai plays it up, pretending to be taken aback. “Looks like we’re skipping ahead. That’s fine. That makes sense. You’re already legally married. What do you need me for, anyway?”
“Sorry.” I break the kiss and rub my lips together. “I’m good now.”
Our guests laugh again.
I feel better having touched her. All that emotion building up as she walked down the aisle was too much for my body to hold.
“Okay, great. Let’s go on.” Nikolai retrieves the bouquet from Leo, who caught it. “For future reference, the bride is supposed to throw the bouquet, not the groom.”
More laughter.
I take the flowers back and put them in Lara’s hands. Her smile is brilliant. I grin back at her, absorbing the light that shines from her face.
“How about we do a little ring exchange, huh?” Nikolai suggests. “Can you wait for that, or do you need to kiss her again?”
Well, since he asked. I cup her face for another kiss. The bouquet gets crushed between us.
“Flowers!” Lili yelps.
Lara tosses the bouquet over her shoulder, and I hear the guests laugh and cheer some more while I kiss my beautiful bride.
This time when I come away, I feel much better.
“Okay, let’s do the rings, shall we? Lili, hand that bouquet back. I’m going to rush ahead to see if we can get through this ceremony and get the party started. Or maybe these two are heading straight to their honeymoon–I’m not sure,” Nikolai jokes.
It’s turned into a comedy show, with everyone primed to laugh at every remark now.
The lightness tonight is markedly different from the serious tones of my entire existence. Of my later childhood. My college experience. My heart feels like it grew wings to fly.
“Quick, repeat after me, Ben, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment today, tomorrow, and forever.”
More laughter.
I take the ring box from Leo and produce the ring that Lara and I picked out together. It’s an emerald-cut morganite stone, framed in little diamonds. “Lara, my partner, my wife, my best friend–I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment today, tomorrow, and forever.”
Since we’re doing things backwards, she’s still wearing the simple band Lili bought for our first wedding, so I slide this engagement-style ring on in front of it.
Lara’s eyes get bright with tears, and her lips tremble.
She repeats the line, slipping the band Lili bought for me to wear back on my finger. I felt too attached to it and what it symbolized–the beginning of what has become a beautiful marriage–to want anything different.
“Benjamin and Lara, here before your friends and family in an ancient rite that creates a bond and holds meaning deeper than any law, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Our guests applaud.
“You may kiss the bride–again!”
I kiss Lara for the third time, then pick her up and carry her down the aisle as our guests roar into cheers and the band strikes up a celebratory tune. Our groomsmen and bridesmaids dance down the aisle behind us.
Screw dinner–we’re ready for the party to begin. And for once, I’m not in charge.