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FIFTY-SEVEN

JACK

JULY | OHIO

It was a hot summer afternoon, but we were in the shade of the woods. The venue was an easy choice because it reminded me of being home in Cape Breton: evergreen trees and a pine needle forest floor, the quiet ease of a summer forest, and of course, birds.

I waited at the end of the aisle, holding Jace and Harper’s hands.

Mara appeared in her same wedding dress as our first wedding, holding Hazel and Aspen’s hands.

I found a string quartet willing to play “Welcome to the Black Parade” for us, which was cheesy, but meaningful for us.

It was a small crowd, but all our important people. Romelski and his family. A bunch of my old teammates and a handful of new ones. Gabi and Nikki. Mara’s mom and stepdad. My parents and my brother even showed up, and believe it or not, it was really good to see them.

Sydney was invited but politely declined, sending us a gift anyway.

We didn’t bother inviting Bryce.

There was so much to celebrate. Less than a year into our relationship, Mara and I were confident that we could make it, our big little family.

Gabi helped to wrangle the kids with their grandparents while Mara and I faced each other and once again, repeated the words we’d said in the Beverly Hills Courthouse.

But this time, it meant more.

Because this time, I knew love.

Unconditional love.

That concept had once been unthinkable to me.

But as I looked at my wife, our children, and all the people who supported us, I knew I had it in so many ways.

And I could actually feel it.