Matt waited in the front pew in Daegon's temple in Chendal, bouncing his knee and really wanting a cigarette, but there was no smoking here. He sighed once again. Was she taking her time just to annoy him? It was bad enough that he had to be in this place, with its white marble walls and light gold carpeting, its light wooden pews and bouquets of flowers around the sides of the sanctuary. And then there was the priest standing in front of the white altar, his hands clasped and resting against his long white robe, waiting patiently. His complacent expression was irritating.
At least they were alone. He and Sera had compromised; he could marry her in front of just the priest, then after she could have her reception party back at their house. Their two-story home on the edge of town was also a compromise when it came to the decor. She had cream sofas, light walls, and white sheer curtains, but all the wood furniture was walnut, and accents like throw pillows were crimson. He was actually fine with letting her decorate, he only had one condition—no flowers. She had agreed and even promised to keep her mother from touching their backyard. All in all, they were both content.
Matt went to pull out his silver case, then remembered it was at home in his jacket. Sera had insisted he dress nice for the occasion, though as far as he would go was to exchange his jacket and t-shirt for a dark blue, long sleeve, button-up shirt. Otherwise he still wore black leather pants and boots.
He ran a hand through his hair as he looked back at the entrance door. What was taking her so long? She just had to put on a dress, it wasn’t that difficult, she did it every day. He sighed again.
“Could you please stop?” the priest asked.
“What?”
“Drumming your fingers.”
Matt looked at his hand, he hadn’t realized he was doing it. With yet another sigh, he stood and started pacing. Finally, a few minutes later, the door opened.
He turned around. “About damn…” His words trailed off and every thought instantly disappeared the moment he saw her. His breath caught and his heart swelled at the sight of her.
Sera smiled at she walked down the isle. She was wearing a long, gauzy white dress, that left her shoulders bare. Her hair, for the first time, was up. Her white-gold curls were piled on top of her head with deep red, baby roses placed here and there. A few ringlets fell against her neck with a couple framing her face. She was always beautiful, but today she was extraordinarily, a vision of perfection.
As she came to stop in front of him, he knew he didn’t need to tell her anything, she knew what he felt and he saw the feelings reflected in her adoring blue eyes.
Matt continued to gaze at her while the priest spoke. He didn’t bother paying attention to the words, they didn’t matter. Anything the priest could say would be inadequate anyway. Words couldn’t sum up what the woman standing before him meant, nor how profoundly devoted to her he was.
He hadn’t even care about getting married; he didn’t understand what it meant. But then Sera had told him that it was just a symbol of commitment, beyond that it’s whatever it means to the people getting married. So for him, the silver ban that she slipped onto his finger was a symbol of how much he was hers. He belonged to her more than he ever belonged to the god who had marked him. She had his heart, she had him.
The matching ban that he slid onto her finger was a symbol of how he would live for her, die for her, do anything for her. How he would love her and cherish her every day for the rest of his life.
It was all this that he vowed when he said those two words, “I do.”
Sera smiled happily and a tear escaped as she spoke the words herself a moment later, “I do.”
Matt touched her cheek, gently wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb and smiled tenderly down at her. The priest pronounced them husband and wife, but before Matt kissed his bride, he added feelingly against her lips his own two words that said even more, “My angel.”
