A cool hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to see Renata standing there, clad in the only cream colored maternity dress she could find. “What do you think?”
It’s a plain dress, with a deep V-neck that shows off her more ample cleavage, and a shiny kind of sash that sits just above the now visible bump. It’s not something she’d usually wear, but I guess when a woman is pregnant, she gets forced into the flowy kind of tops and dresses that have sashes like that. She picks at the dress a little bit and pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear. I put my hands on her hips and move my hand to cover her swelling belly.
“You look like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. That’s quite likely because you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” The words I speak are true. There’s an inner glow that comes from deep with her, a happiness that I didn’t see the first few weeks she was staying on my property. Now, she lights up all the time, and today, it’s especially beautiful.
“I feel... fat. And swollen.” She puts her hand on top of mine. “Twenty-two weeks today. We’re getting there.”
“We are. And there’s no world in which anyone would say you look either fat or swollen. Now let’s get on to the courthouse. I think we’ve got a few folks waiting on us.” I rise and take her arm in mine, walking her out to the curb where we catch an Uber that takes us into the city for our wedding day. I know I’m probably supposed to tell her I shouldn’t see her in the dress before we’re married, but we’re not the most traditional couple anyway. And it doesn’t matter anyway--all of our bad luck is over, and we’re moving along to the next thing, the wedding that’ll unite us as a couple for once and all.
When we arrive at the courthouse, there are a few familiar faces smiling at us. Even Wingate seems happier out here, happier that he can truly be himself, that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Calmly, I walk Renata to the front of the room, standing in front of the judge we picked to marry us. We didn’t write any elaborate vows, sticking instead to the basic stuff. The judge prattles on about the sanctity of marriage for a while and throws in a few things about how we have to stick together through thick and thin. Well, if only he knew what we’ve been through so far. Hell, he actually probably does. Everyone does. We’re a pretty damn good news story these days, and I’m surprised there aren’t photographers roaming around, ready to get the latest scoop. I guess it’s a bit boring when a scandal takes a turn and becomes a marriage instead. And then it’s time.
“Do you, Macklin Jason Pride, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” I gulp hard and look over to Renata, and she nudges me like she’s reminding me of what to say.
“I do,” I say, still gulping. I don’t even know how I got the words out.
“Do you, Renata Olivia Young, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The judge looks at us expectantly.
With a smile, Renata nods. “I do.” Wingate comes up and hands us the rings, and we exchange them silently--small gold bands that represent the change we’ve both gone through to get here. We’ve both been drastically humbled, brought to a place where we’re much closer to being normal people, much closer to the people we once were in high school, in college. When I slide the ring onto Renata’s finger, this feels like how it should be. This feels truly right, like what we should have been doing all along. She slides the other ring onto my finger, and for the first time in my life, I feel complete.
“You may kiss the bride,” the judge says, and we hear clapping and shouting from the other people in the small, cramped room. Without hesitation, I take Renata into my arms and hold her close a moment before kissing her. Her belly sits between us, a reminder of the good things to come. I look into her deep, beautiful eyes for a moment, and I put my lips to hers. Her lips are full and soft and sweet, and we melt together right there, probably a little longer than we should.
“Congrats, y’all,” Wingate says with a put-on country accent. “And I’m pretty sure you guys can stop kissing now.” We all dissolve into laughter. Still gripping Renata’s hands, we watch as our witnesses sign the marriage certificate. And just like that--with as little fanfare as possible, we’re married for once and all.
Wingate comes up and puts his arm around me. “You always knew you were going to marry her, didn’t you?”
“Ever since sixth grade. And I might have an inkling before that,” I reply.
“Go on, you two. You did not know that, Mack!” Renata punches me gently in the arm.