Page 96 of Vows We Broke
“I choose you, Skyler,” I say. “Because you found the courage to become the man I always saw beneath the expectations. You didn’t just walk away from your family; you walked toward yourself. I choose you because we built this life out of the rubble of the old one, and it’s a lot more stable this time.”
The officiant smiles, a small, genuine expression. “Then, by the power vested in me by this community and the life you’ve built together, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Skyler grins, but I can’t wait. I press my lips against his, our tongues finding each other.
As we pull back, the guests move as one. Sixty pairs of hands reach for the mason jars hanging from the hooks. They unscrew the lids in a collective, metallic snick that echoes through the trees.
The fireflies rise.
Hundreds of tiny, pulsing golden lights float into the twilight, spiraling toward the stars like the physical manifestation of every prayer we ever whispered into the silence of our old lives. They flicker and dance, turning the backyard into a space that exists outside of time.
We walk back down the aisle, hand in hand. Mrs. Delgado reaches out and pats my arm as we pass. Steven is grinning. Lily cheers. Maria is crying tears of joy. And Dad’s eyes smile.
I look around at this perfect, messy, beautiful celebration.
It’s just us.
I think back to that moment at the country club, to the cold, devastating “no” I had to say to save my soul. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. It was a demolition.
But standing here, under a sky full of rising light, I realize you can’t build a masterpiece until you clear the site.
The “no” was the demolition. This “yes” is the home.
And as Skyler pulls me close, his laugh a warm vibration against my ear, I know the foundation will hold for a hundred years.
