Once we have left the premises of the hotel, Enzo takes my hand when it’s safe enough that we won’t turn around and run back to the hotel to fuck each other’s brains out.
We stroll hand in hand the three blocks to the courthouse, definitely taking longer than the five minutes we had left for our appointment. But I’m not concerned. Nothing can damper today.
We walk into the courthouse and into the room where we will be getting married.
I gasp at the sight.
It’s covered in red rose petals. The lights have been dimmed, and there are only a couple of candles lighting the end of the aisle.
I look at Enzo, confused. “You did this?”
He nods. “I know it’s not the fancy wedding. We will do that later with family and friends. But this is the one I will remember. This is when you become my wife. And I didn’t want our memories to be of a crappy courtroom. I wanted it to be as beautiful as you look.”
“Thank you,” I say, doing a good job of keeping my tears at bay even though I’m very emotional right now.
Enzo holds out his elbow to me. I take it and walk down the aisle with him as soft music plays.
We reach the end, and the judge starts talking about love and what a commitment marriage is. I realize two strangers are standing next to us.
“Our witnesses,” Enzo whispers into my ear as he takes both of my hands.
I remember back to our first fake marriage.
How lucky am I that I get to marry Enzo not once, the fake marriage, not twice, now, but three times, our future ceremony?
“What?” Enzo asks with a grin. Neither of us is listening to the officiant, much like our first fake marriage.
“Just thinking about the last time I was marrying you.”
“I was stupid not to marry you for real then.”
“No, this is perfect.”
The officiant turns to Enzo. “Do you Enzo Black, take Kai Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife, for sickness and health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?”
Black, Enzo used Black as his last name—not Rinaldi.
I grin. Happy that he used the name I’ve always known him to be. I’m not sure if Enzo’s legal last name is Black or not. But I have no doubt he has papers—passports, birth certificates, etc. that say his name is Black.
And I want to be Kai Black, not Kai Rinaldi.
“I do,” Enzo says.
“And do you Kai Miller, take Enzo Black to be your lawfully wedded husband, for sickness or health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?”
“I do.”
“You may now exchange rings as tokens of your love and symbols of your marriage.”
Enzo reaches into his pocket to pull out the box I brought back from the jewelry store. I didn’t let him open it until now. I wanted the rings to be a surprise.
He thought I was crazy. But he kept to his word.
He opens the box, and I grab the ring I bought Enzo.
“With this ring, I’m yours forever. I’m your wife. Your lover. Your savior. Your protector. Mother of your children. Your everything. Forever.”
I slide the black ring I picked out and had inscribed onto his finger.