***
A year later, on New Years Eve, Elec and I had a private ceremony officiated by a justice of the peace. I wore my hair up. He was happy about that.
A big wedding wasn’t necessary; we just wanted to make it official. We chose New Years Eve as a way of sticking it to fate.
After a nice dinner alone at Charlie’s Pub following the wedding, we joined the crowd in Times Square.
When the ball dropped, Elec lifted me into a passionate kiss that more than made up for our lost opportunity here five years ago.
When he put me down, I whispered into his ear and gave him the surprise of his life.
Later that night, he’d put his head on my tummy, and cleverly joked in typical Elec fashion about how we belonged in a reality TV show: he’d now officially become his brother’s bastard child who impregnated his stepsister.