Taking a folded piece of paper out of my pocket, I clear my throat. The room gets quiet.
“Thank y’all for coming,” I begin. “Olivia and I consider each and every one of you part of our family, and we appreciate all the support and love y’all have shown us over the past year. As many of you know, I was in a pretty bad place when Olivia came into my life. My restaurant was goin’ under, and I was feeling really lost. Little did I know getting to know her—talking with her, reading her work, becomin’ friends—was the beginning of my happily ever after. Going through the bad stuff was…Jesus, it was really shitty.” This earns a laugh from the crowd.
“But going through it made me a better man. The kind of man that I hope deserves a girl like Olivia.” I look at her. “I made it through the bad stuff because you were waitin’ for me on the other side, sweetheart. I was lost, but you loved me anyway. I was a jackass, but you took me back anyway. Thank you for loving me just as I am. I hope to do half as good a job loving you.”
Olivia comes to give me a hug. People are clapping. A few people are tearing up. So am I.
I unfold the paper. “I wanted to share one of my favorite passages from My Enemy the Earl with y’all. I think it really captures my feelings about love stories and happily ever after. And of course I always love showin’ off my girl’s talent.” I clear my throat. “‘I may be named Gunnar.’ His eyes flicked to meet hers. ‘And I may ride a sinister black horse. But I am not afraid to admit I like a good love story, same as you, Cate.’
She was looking down again, her hair falling around her face.
‘It’s easy to dismiss stories like that,’ Cate replied. ‘Love stories. People say they are silly. That they are fantasies. But I happen to think the fantasies improve reality. Make it more bearable, anyway. It’s nice seeing how the happiest endings arise from the most hopeless places.’
Olivia, I was in a hopeless place when we met. But with you, I found my happy ending. I love you so much. Happy birthday, baby.”
The room erupts in thunderous applause. Olivia is in my arms again, pressing messy kisses to my lips, my chin, my nose.
“Best. Speech. Ever,” she breathes into my ear.
“Was the Gunnar quote too much?” I ask.
“Is me asking you for a quickie in the bathroom right now too much?” she replies, pulling back to give me a sly little grin.
I wrap an arm around her waist and start to tug her across the restaurant. “Hell no. Let’s go.”