Our favorite quotes from music, poems, and books. Mostly, the books that told the story of our courtship. Things like: Top of the Eiffel Tower; A million sunsets; We’re sorta like fate; Always. Only. Ever. For you; A piece of cake peace offering; A push-me-over-the-edge-of-the-love-cliff smile; Your lips are my bliss; Hammering. Nailing. Pounding. Screwing; Points for Dances; Panties. I win; ifly; Shh, baby; and so many others from what she calls the Swoonworthy List. A list of all the things I’ve done—over a thousand of them—that have made her swoon. She says after the wedding is over, she’s given the crew strict instructions to carefully take them down and save them because she wants to use them to decorate the ceiling of the nursery, so our baby will live in a cocoon of love.
Her ability to see beauty in everyday life is part of what makes her scripts so good. Even though on the surface most seem like fun romantic comedies, there is always a soulful depth to them that make people fall in love with the story. That is also why the Trinity spinoffs with her and Knox have been so wildly successful. Behind all the bombs, danger, and action, she’s woven in a tender love story that resonates with everyone.
Especially me.
Our journey to the altar was fraught with danger, action, and heartbreak, but we survived and are stronger because of it.
We’ve savored every moment we’ve had together, and I’m looking forward to giving her more take-her-breath-away moments. She thinks those moments are things I do to spoil her, but what she doesn’t realize is that she takes my breath away on a daily basis. Sometimes when I look at her, I feel like the boy I was when I first saw her—shocked, breathless, mesmerized, intrigued, and completely smitten.
The guests are seated and the wedding processional starts, first with our respective families, our parents, and then her grandmothers who are our flower girls.
The grandmas have huge grins plastered across their faces as they practically dance their way down the aisle, tossing pale pink rose petals mixed with four-leaf clovers onto a metallic linen runner covering the grass.
The two hundred and sixty people here represent the story of our lives—our families, our friends from Eastbrooke, friends from college, teammates from when I played professional soccer, the movie industry, the wine business, and our philanthropic efforts. They are sitting on an assortment of pastel antique furnishings, happily sipping spiked lemonade and still in a bit of a shock from the announcement that the fundraiser was just a ruse to get them here for our wedding.
Vanessa walks down the aisle next, taking her place of honor opposite Riley as the wedding march starts.
Keatyn didn’t want to see me before the wedding—a bit of tradition she was adamant about.
I didn’t argue.
I mean, we’ve been lucky so far, and there’s no way I’m going to be responsible for screwing that up. I smile broadly as I watch her barreling up the hill in a green, floral-garland-draped Gator utility vehicle. A vehicle that has so much more meaning after learning we conceived after getting caught in the rain—and mud—in one.
When she gets out of the vehicle, my breath catches, the air seemingly sucked out of my lungs by her beauty. She’s glowing much like she did the first time I saw her. When I barely believed she could be real.
That’s how I still feel today. Like I can barely believe I got so lucky.
A long time ago, she told me about a dream where she was in a meadow, marrying the man she loved. I realize that she’s recreated the dream for our wedding as she walks down the aisle wearing a dress etched with gold, her hair in long curls, and a jeweled flower band across her head.
Grandpa Douglas and Tommy stand on each side of her, escorting her down the aisle.
As she gets closer, I feel like I’m in a dream.
On one hand, it seems like I’ve waited so long for this. On the other hand, it feels like only a moment has passed by since the day she kicked a soccer ball at my head.
But today is different.
She wants to be my wife. She’s pregnant with my child.
The closer she gets, the more details I notice. The pale roses, pink peonies, and white hydrangeas surrounded by feathers making up her bouquet. The vintage four-leaf clover ring on her finger.
When she joins me at the altar, I tell her she’s beautiful.
She doesn’t say anything, just looks down. I follow her gaze and watch as she pulls the skirt of her dress up slightly, revealing a pair of cowboy boots and not the gold sparkly heels she had told me she was wearing.
It’s then when I’m overcome with emotion.
I swore to Riley that I wouldn’t be a * and cry, but it’s hard not to get emotional when the person who embodies your life is standing in front of you.
And she’s wearing boots.
“You in boots is my favorite,” I whisper as I take her hand in mine and kiss it.
Asher Vineyards — Wedding
KEATYN
I’m standing at the altar looking at my moon boy. My green flash.
His eyes glisten when I show him my boots.
I’ve been trying not to cry. Not to be all emotional, but when he takes my hand in his and kisses it like freaking prince charming, I feel the tears well up.
And as we face each other to say our vows of love, my heart feels like it could burst with happiness.