When we step off the gondola, Lachlan is waiting. He takes my parents ahead, and Hugh, another member of the security detail, hangs back with me, waiting for the all-clear.
“I never thought I’d have RCMP officers coordinating my walk down the aisle,” I say after he listens to a burst of chatter on his ear piece.
He grins at me. “I never thought I’d get to have the best seat in the house to watch my prime minister get married.”
“Are you right up front?”
He laughs. “I’m standing at the back, actually. More of a figure of speech, but honestly, this is a great honour.”
“The honour is ours, I promise you.” My head is starting to spin a little, and I take a deep breath.
“Would you like some water?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. Do you know where—”
Before I can finish the question, my maid of honour sweeps around the corner. “Everything looks perfect out there,” Sasha says as she gives me a quick, gentle hug, being careful around my bouquet. “Just getting the last few people seated, and then it’s show time.”
I nod, and the buzzing in my ears gets louder. It would be terribly bad form to faint before I even get down the aisle.
“Are you okay?” Sasha gives me a concerned look. “You seem pale.”
“I’m…”
Hugh steps closer. “Tip your head up, chin to the sky, and take a slow deep breath in.”
I do as he says, and the spinning slows down.
“Good. And again,” he murmurs. Does he know he has a Dom voice? Maybe that’s why he was added to the security team.
I giggle at the private thought.
“Is that better?” Sasha asks.
I straighten my head again. “Yep.”
Hugh laughs. “Don’t forget to breathe, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sasha leans in and lowers her voice. “So…I talked to Lachlan about the Tate situation.”
I give her a look of what I’m sure is a what are you doing? kind of alarm. “What Tate situation?”
“The breakfast.”
Jeez. I roll my eyes. “I thought we agreed you were going to thank him for that perfectly lovely gesture.”
A scowl slashes across her face. “Maybe.”
“Sasha!”
“Fine, have it your way.” She winks and laughs, and at least my head isn’t spinning now. As always, my best friend knows exactly how to bring me back down to earth.
As the first strains of Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring filter towards us, Hugh gestures for Sasha to turn the corner and walk down the aisle.
I listen to the music we chose so carefully, and wait for my cue.
I’m getting married in a few minutes.
Gavin is waiting for me right around the corner.
How has it been a year since we met? He still lights me up inside. But I have no doubt I’m going to be as excited to see him thirty, forty, fifty years from now as I am at this moment.
The cellist joins the guitarist, lifting the piece to new heights, and Hugh gestures for me to move forward.
My heart beats faster, painfully thumping against my ribs as I turn the corner and lift my gaze to find Gavin waiting for me right dead-centre at the end of the aisle.
He looks boyishly excited, and his gaze stays glued on me as I glide towards him. I’m vaguely aware of our friends and family seated on white folding chairs, but they’re a blurry backdrop to my fiancé.
He takes my hand as I reach him, smiles, and leans in, his lips brushing the curve of my ear. “Best day of my life, Sprite.”
I squeeze his fingers and give him a tremulous smile that says I feel exactly the same way. Mine too, Sir.
We centre ourselves in front the officiant, and she raises her hands to begin the ceremony.
“Friends and family, we are gathered today to mark the most special of occasions, the marriage of Gavin and Ellie. Together, we will witness the joining in the legal state of matrimony of this couple, according to the order and the custom prevailing, and under the authority given and provided by the Province of British Columbia.
“This couple has given serious and careful thought to this tradition, of binding themselves to one another, as allowed by the law of the land. They come to this union freely, equally, and with common rights. Their marriage will continue thusly, as a life-long companionship.”
A cloud rolls by overhead, giving us a soft bit of shade for a moment. I beam at my soon-to-be husband. I’ll be his for the rest of time.
“They’ve spoken to me about their desires to raise a family together,” she continues. “To support and encourage each other in their work and personal endeavours. And they understand that to commit to one another in marriage is to share all that comes hence.”
We went back and forth on the language for this service, and as she continues, I can see Gavin anticipating what comes next. He loves a good speech, the rhythm of it, the rise and fall of the words in specific, deliberate placement for maximum effect.
She pauses right before the last point, slowing her delivery and looking past us to connect with our guests in attendance.
Gavin loves that, and I laugh gently at the approving look on his face.
The things a politician cares about on their wedding day.
Next up is his sister, who knows a thing or two about delivering stirring words. She’s a renowned social scientist, an author, and a public speaker. Today, she’s reading a poem she chose with our blessing.
It’s sweet and funny and modern and inclusive of all different kinds of love, and by the time she’s done reading, I’m close to tears again.
And we haven’t yet arrived at the really emotional stuff.
“Do either of you know of any legal impediment to this marriage?” the officiant asks us.
We respond in unison with three practiced words. “We do not.”
“There having been no reason given why this couple may not be married,” she continues, getting to Gavin’s favourite part, with the most formal language possible. “I ask you to give answer to these questions.”
Give answer to these questions.
Okay, I want to say with a giggle. But it’s his turn first.
“Do you, Gavin, commit to Eleanor the love of your person, the comfort of your companionship, and the patience of your understanding; and to share equally in the responsibilities of your life together?”
His smile begins in his eyes, the bright, piercing blue softening to the darkest fathoms of the oceans as his pupils dilate. His mouth is the last part of his face to get there, softly curling up before he finally says, “I do.”
“Do you, Eleanor, commit to Gavin the love of your person, the comfort of your companionship, and the patience of your understanding; and to share equally in the responsibilities of your life together?”
“I do,” I breathe, meaning it with all my heart.
“Please join your right hands, and once you’re settled, Gavin, please repeat after me.” I pass my bouquet to Sasha, then the officiant lowers her voice, prompting Gavin quietly, but he knows his vows inside and out.
We both do.
“I, Gavin, take thee, Ellie, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in whatever life may hold for us.”
The wind picks up, and a few strands of my hair fly loose from my up-do. Gavin gently reaches across and tucks them behind my ear. His touch steals my breath, and I need to steady myself before I can return the vows back to him.
“I, Ellie, take thee, Gavin, to be my lawful wedded spouse, to have and to hold, from this day forward, in whatever life may hold for us.”
Behind Gavin, Max is ready with the wedding rings when the officiant turns to him.
She holds the rings up in the air between us with a solemnity that makes my chest tight. “Inasmuch as you have made this declaration of your vows concerning one another, and have set these rings before me, we all recognize these rings as a seal and a confirmation and acceptance of the vows you have made.”
Again, Gavin goes first. He takes my left hand in his and sets my wedding band at the tip of my ring finger. “Ellie, you are my love and my life.” He slides the band over my knuckle, setting it at the base of my finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
I was good until his voice caught on wed. Now a tear is tracking down my cheek, and Gavin gently catches it with his thumb as he cups my face in his hand.
My fingers shaking, I take his ring, then carefully squeeze his hand. “Gavin, you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. I love you with my whole heart.” I hold my breath as I ease his ring onto his finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Time pauses, this moment stretching as we tangle our fingers together. Married. Husband and wife.
Each other’s, for the rest of time.
“Upon the authority vested in me by the Province of British Columbia, I pronounce you duly married.”
A big, wide grin spreads across Gavin’s face as he cups my cheeks again, this time with both hands. He kisses me until I’m breathless, bending me backwards a bit. I lift my foot off the ground as everyone applauds, and when he finally puts me upright again, I’m blushing.
I curl my hands around his upper arms to steady myself, and he holds the kiss for a second longer before breaking off.
Then I chase him for a quick repeat, because he’s my husband and I can do that with abandon.
Everyone is on their feet, cheering, as Sasha hands my bouquet back and we turn to face our guests, hand in hand.
The photographer is crouched halfway down the aisle. We hold our position for moment, letting him take as many shots as he wants of our first moment as husband and wife. Then we take a step forward at the same time.
That was fun, but what will follow—our reception, our honeymoon, and the rest of our lives—will be even better.