Perfect Together by Kristen Ashley

I still wasn’t sure living those years without the man in my arms was a pain I’d ever be happy to have experienced.

I would say that every couple should have another wedding ceremony decades down the line.

The dress. The cake. The dancing.

The vows.

The beauty.

All of it.

Have it again at a time when you could appreciate it. When you knew how much work it would be, and how much joy there would be, and how many fights were going to happen, and how much laughter you’d share, and how crucial it was to have someone at your side when times got tough, and how deep love had the capacity to grow, and how never ending that capacity was.

I loved weddings.

I’d never been so happy as I’d been on my first wedding day, and no matter what anyone thought, that included the exquisite joy I felt on the birth of all three of my children.

Except for that day.

Except for right then.

In that moment.

With Remy.

I was the happiest I’d ever been.

Because we had our life, our kids, our memories, each other, and the capacity for the depth of our love to grow.

Never ending.

Then it happened.

We danced by where Guillaume and Estelle were sitting, both watching us with rapt attention, though Guillaume’s was more rapt.

Yes, she’d come to Phoenix in order to be in attendance.

Remy had insisted.

And as we danced, I heard her say to Guillaume, “My God, honey. They’re perfect together.”

I smiled at my husband.

His return was a smirk.

And I knew one thing for certain in this crazy world.

She was right.

The End