We were waiting for the photographer to return from the bathroom so we could cut into our three-tiered wedding cake. It had a topper featuring a bride and groom holding knives as they prepared to stab each other. Troy and I had thought that was fitting, considering the history of our relationship.
Dressed in my lace, A-line gown, I looked around at all of the happy faces in the room, many of them over the age of eighty-five. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude came over me—for this day, and mostly for the handsome man standing next to me.
“Have I mentioned how amazing your tits look in that dress?” Troy whispered.
“Yeah. A few times, actually.”
“I guess I’m excited for the honeymoon.”
Troy and I would be flying to Europe for a three-week trip tomorrow, my first time overseas.
Mr. Serrano—whom I, too, now affectionately called Nonno—hadn’t been doing well as of late. At ninety-two and in failing health, it wasn’t easy for him to venture out anymore. In fact, he was pretty much confined to his bed. There was no way in hell we were going to accept him missing out on our wedding, though, since he’d technically brought Troy and me together. So the only option was to have the ceremony and reception at Horizons.
We’d decided to do a small ceremony and cake cutting right in his room, with some additional dancing and catered fare out in the dining room. We’d decorated Nonno’s room with yellow roses, in honor of Troy’s grandmother. In attendance were family, a few friends, including Jasmine, and all of the residents and staff of Horizons.
“Where the hell is the photographer?” Troy asked, holding the knife as we waited to cut the cake.
“I know. She’s taking forever.”
In the meantime, Nonno lifted his hand to get my attention.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Troy before walking over to his grandfather. “Is everything okay, Nonno?”
In a groggy voice, he said, “I just want to tell you how lovely you look.”
“Thank you. That’s very sweet.”
“And also how thankful I am that you decided to have the wedding here.”
“There was nowhere else we’d rather have it.”
He attempted to lean in. “I saved the last secret for you, beautiful Aspyn.”
I blinked. “Secret?”
“Yes. The secret to a happy relationship. I gave Troy five.”
“Oh, those! Yup.”
“The first five were all the happy stuff, the little things. But there are actually six, and this one is for you, because I suspect Troy is more likely to screw up than you are.”
I rested my hand over his. “What is it?”
“Never go to bed angry, no matter what my knucklehead grandson says or does. Always kiss and make up before your head hits the pillow. Okay? Troy’s Nonna and I rarely fought, but we had a squabble the night before she died in her sleep. Nothing major—just a fight about the temperature in the house. But if there’s one thing I could change, it would be going to bed mad that night and not giving her a kiss before bed. Going to bed angry isn’t worth it. Life is too short. And you never know if you’re gonna have the chance to make it right.”
I smiled. That was advice I would hold close to my heart. “Okay, Nonno. Got it.”
Troy appeared beside me, looking so dapper in his beige suit jacket. “Hey, you holding my wife hostage over here or something?” He kissed me on the cheek. “The photographer just got back. Ready to cut the cake?”
Because it was my wedding day, I’d opted to taste a tiny bit of the cake and deal with any potential side effects from the ingredients later. Amidst the camera flashes and laughter, Troy and I pretended to get ready to smash the cake in each other’s faces. But neither of us had the heart to follow through as “Love and Marriage” by—who else?—Frank Sinatra played in the background.
After the cake cutting and more photos with family, we moved out into the dining room where a catered dinner was served for all the guests. After, Troy and I danced to “We’ve Only Just Begun” by The Carpenters, one of the songs we’d sung together when he crashed my singalong with his guitar.
After the song ended, Kiki came running toward us, her long skirt nearly tripping her. Pinned to the front of her dress was the dragonfly that had belonged to Troy’s mother, Jennifer. Troy had given it to her when he proposed to me. That day, he’d also told Kiki of his intention to adopt her once he and I were married. That was the happiest day of my life—until today. I’d be legally adopting her as well, and we’d be starting the process soon.
“Can I have some money for the vending machine?” Kiki asked. “We want to get M&Ms.”
“Are you sure? You’re gonna have cake in a bit.”
“Please?”
I walked over to my purse and handed her a few dollars.
“Thanks, Mrs. Serrano,” her friend Maisy said.
Yup. Maisy. That Maisy. Maisy Cummings, the girl who used to bully her. Turns out, Troy and I weren’t the only ones who’d grown up and learned to forgive mistakes of the past.
Troy put his arm around me. “Everything with Kiki okay?”
“Yeah. She just wanted money.”
“Ah. What else is new?” He chuckled.
The sound of silverware clanking drew my attention away from Troy and out toward the tables.
“I guess they want us to kiss,” Troy said.
“Is that what it’s all about? How did you know that?”
“I know all the romantic stuff,” he teased.
Troy placed a long kiss on my lips that was rated PG for the audience.
We then held hands and walked around the dining room, making sure we gave every table some attention.
Framed for public viewing on a table in the corner of the room was the newspaper clipping Troy had used to propose to me. He’d actually paid the local newspaper in Meadowbrook to print…his obituary.
“I didn’t know you were gonna put this on display,” he said.
“It was too good not to share.” I smiled.
It was a lot different from the one he’d written for the dating app.
Troy Serrano, 31, of Meadowbrook
Between his grandfather and great-grandfather, financial advisor Troy Serrano came from a line of true romantics. But despite his Nonno Louie’s best efforts to share the secrets to a woman’s heart, Troy didn’t always execute those gestures seamlessly. It’s a good thing that didn’t matter to the love of his life. Aspyn was very forgiving of Troy’s lack of romantic finesse. What she instead appreciated was his undying love and loyalty, despite the many imperfections that made him who he was.