I plan on never keeping my eyes off her.
Together, we step up the single stair, and like little fairies, Grace, Amelia, and Posey all fix Shelli’s dress, making sure she is in order before Posey takes her bouquet that probably cost a big portion of this wedding budget. We lace our fingers back together, and then we both take in a deep breath, letting it out in a rush, grinning like fools. I don’t even know what Ross says. I’m not listening. I’m gazing ever so deeply into my bride’s eyes. I take in each detail of her face, her sweet cheeks, her Cupid’s bow mouth, and love every bit of her. It’s requiring the restraint of an army to keep me from kissing the breath out of her.
I want to glorify each part of her.
Sing her praises.
But instead, I’m stunned to silence.
Even with my Stanley Cup only feet away and Ross talking a lot, I’m completely and utterly fascinated by her.
Could she look any more perfect?
“You’re perfect,” I mouth, and her lips curve more.
“Stop,” she mouths back, and I can’t stop smiling as a tear rolls down my cheek. She reaches out, wiping it, and it only makes more of them fall.
“How am I the baby crying right now?” I ask quietly, and she snickers.
“Because I don’t want to mess up my makeup.”
We share wide grins just as Ross says, “As you can see, they’re so in love, they don’t even know we are here. They’re having full conversations while I’m trying to speak of their love.”
Laughter fills the barn, and it just feels so fucking right. When Ross’s hand comes to my shoulder, he says, “Speak your heart, brother.”
My heart.
Fuck, it’s imprisoned by this angel. “God,” I mutter, and Shelli squeezes my hands, beaming at me like she always does. Like she’s in awe of me when, really, I should be worshiping her. “I’ve never in my life been so happy as I am at this moment. And I swear, Shelli, I want nothing more than to drop to my knees and worship you right now. You’re an angel.” Her lips tremble, and my heart soars. “You are God-given solace for me, my love. I know I can talk to you about anything. I can speak my truth, and you’re one hundred percent behind me. You call me on my crap, you lift me when I’m down, but most of all, Shelli, you love me.” I hear my mother cough a sob, but I’m in so deep, I can’t pay her any mind. Though, I really hope she doesn’t die. “I promise to do the same for you. To love you, to be there for you when you feel like you’re not the best thing in the world. I will make sure to always have ice for your coffee and, yes, the small little ice you like.”
Her lips part as she laughs. “Don’t make fun of me. You love the ice too.”
“I do, but I love you more,” I admit, holding her hands so tight, I worry I’m hurting her. “I will be the loudest one cheering you on, if it’s onstage or at the arena—no matter what, you’ve got me in your corner. I will love you more than my dad loves my mom or how your dad loves your mom. And we know that love.”
She nods. “We do. Everyone does.”
More laughter and agreement, but our eyes are locked. “Because you, Shelli Grace,” I say, my voice breaking, and I want to be embarrassed, but how can I? This woman is mine. “You—the girl who was right in front of me my whole life and I took forever to see, wasting my life and not living fully—are the first day of the rest of my life. And I swear, I will never ever love anyone the way I love you.”
When a tear rolls down her cheek, I want to scream out in victory. “Ha, I made you cry.”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing before wiping her face. She takes my hand once more, right where she belongs, as Ross says, “See? Told you, true love.” He reaches over, taking Shelli’s shoulder in his hand. “Never in my life have I met a couple like you two. So please, Shelli, share your heart.”
Shelli takes a deep breath, her eyes locking with mine once more. “It’s no secret that I’ve been in love with you my whole life. You were made for me, made for me to love, and it’s also no secret that I express myself best through music. So, let’s see if I can make it through this without crying.”
To my surprise, the pianist behind us starts to play, and Shelli takes in a deep breath. Then her incredible voice fills the barn like it has filled so many theaters. I know the song; Moulin Rouge is a favorite movie of hers. When “Come What May” would come on, she would sing it loudly and proudly, just like she is now. The violinists join in, and the barn becomes basically a concert hall and Shelli is the star. But she isn’t singing for anyone else but me.