Chapter 10 #2
Yes, I think, exactly. Love that transcends all obstacles. Love that refuses to be denied or hidden away in basements. Love that’s strong enough to overcome fear and doubt and the expectations of others.
“Giovanni,” she continues, turning her attention to me with a warm smile, “do you take Carlo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?”
“I do,” I say immediately, my voice clear and strong and ringing with absolute certainty. “I absolutely do. With all my heart and soul and everything I am. Forever and always.”
The words feel sacred as they leave my lips, a vow that goes deeper than law or ceremony. This isn’t just a legal formality; this is me promising the universe that I will love and protect and cherish Carlo for the rest of my life.
“And Carlo,” she turns to address him directly, her voice warm and encouraging, “do you take Giovanni to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?”
Carlo just stares at the screen, his eyes wide and unblinking, making no sound except for his slightly labored breathing.
The moment stretches, filled with tension and possibility.
I slide my hand behind his head again, fingers tangling gently in his soft hair, and give it a firm tug.
His head jerks forward in what could charitably be called a nod.
“He’s just overwhelmed with emotion,” I explain to the celebrant, my voice soft with understanding and love. “This is such a special moment for us. He’s always been the strong, silent type. Still waters run deep, you know.”
“I can see that,” she says with a knowing smile, the kind of expression that suggests she’s seen all types of couples in her years of performing ceremonies. “The strong, silent type can be very romantic. There’s something beautiful about love that doesn’t need words.”
“There really is,” I agree, gazing at Carlo adoringly, taking in every detail of his face, the way the light catches in his dark eyes, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. “He’s absolutely perfect. I’m the luckiest person in the world.”
The celebrant continues with a reading about soulmates finding each other across time and space, about love conquering all obstacles, about two hearts becoming one.
Her voice rises and falls with practiced rhythm, each word carefully chosen to evoke the magic and mystery of true love.
It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of hearing at my wedding, every romantic fantasy I’ve ever harbored coming to life.
“Love is patient, love is kind,” she reads from what sounds like a modified version of the famous passage. “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails, never gives up, never loses faith in the possibility of happiness.”
Tears are already starting to gather in my eyes. This is so beautiful, so perfect, so exactly what I always imagined my wedding would be like.
“Now for the vows,” she announces, setting down her notes and focusing her full attention on us. “Giovanni, would you like to share your feelings with your husband-to-be?”
“Oh yes,” I breathe, turning to face Carlo fully. His eyes are so wide, so beautiful, fixed on mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. There’s so much I want to say, so much I need him to understand about what this moment means to me.
“Carlo,” I begin, my voice trembling with the weight of all the emotion I’ve been carrying for years, “from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were my destiny. My soulmate. The other half of my soul. You are everything I never knew I was looking for and everything I’ll ever need.
You make me complete. You make me whole. ”
My voice breaks slightly as the words pour out, years of pent-up love and longing finally finding expression.
“I promise to love you, cherish you, protect you, and make you happy for the rest of our lives. I promise to be everything you need, to give you everything you deserve, to never let anything hurt you ever again. You are my today and all of my tomorrows.”
Tears are streaming down my face by the time I finish, my vision blurred but my voice steady. Carlo’s eyes are suspiciously bright too, glistening with what might be tears of joy, though that might be from the gag making his eyes water.
“Beautiful,” the celebrant says softly, her own voice slightly choked with emotion. “Absolutely beautiful. Carlo, would you like to share your vows?”
I reach behind Carlo’s head again and guide him through another nod, then answer for him with the words I know he would say if he could find them.
“He told me earlier that his feelings are so deep, words can’t express them.
He prefers to show his love through actions rather than speeches.
He’s never been one for grand gestures with words. ”
“How wonderfully romantic,” she sighs, pressing her hand to her heart. “Sometimes the deepest emotions transcend language. Very well then. By the power vested in me by the state and by the universe itself, I now pronounce you husband and husband.”
“Husband and wife,” I correct.
The celebrant pales. She picks up papers from her desk and starts furiously flicking through them.
“Oh my!” she gasps. “Have I been using the wrong pronouns? I can’t apologise enough!”
“No, not at all,” I reassure her warmly. “I am a boy, my pronouns are he him. But I prefer wife. It embodies our dynamic, as well as allowing me to express my feminine side.”
She sags in relief and then smiles brightly. “How lovely.”
Then she straightens up. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss!”
My heart stops. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreaming of for years, the culmination of everything I’ve worked toward, the beginning of our real life together.
I lean in slowly, savoring every second of this perfect moment, and press my lips gently to Carlo’s. The ball gag is between us, but it doesn’t diminish the magic of the moment. Nothing could diminish this. It’s perfect. We’re married. He’s mine forever.
I kiss him deeply. Thoroughly. Utterly. I kiss him until he makes a quiet sound that goes straight to my impatient cock.
“Congratulations!” the celebrant beams, clapping her hands together with genuine joy. “I’ll get that certificate in the mail to you right away. May you have many years of happiness together.”
“Thank you so much,” I manage through my tears of pure joy, my voice thick with emotion. “This has been absolutely perfect. Everything I ever dreamed of.”
I close the laptop and set it aside carefully, my hands shaking with happiness and the overwhelming realization that it’s done. We did it. We’re actually married. Legally, officially, forever and always.
“Let me get that off you, my darling husband,” I say, reaching behind Carlo’s head to unbuckle the gag with gentle, reverent fingers.
He spits it out the moment he’s free, working his jaw and running his tongue over his lips. “Ginni, this is insane. You can’t just...”
“Shhh,” I interrupt, pressing a finger to his lips with infinite tenderness. “No negativity on our wedding day. I have cake!”
He stares at me with a utterly dumbfounded expression. It makes him look younger. Even more handsome.
I quickly grab my phone from the bedside cabinet. “Sadly, there wasn’t a way to hire a professional photographer. They can’t do it via a laptop camera, and I didn’t want strangers in our love nest.
I hold the phone up and angle my head next to Carlo’s, making sure to capture the bouquet.
I smile and take several photos in quick succession.
Only stopping when Carlo’s daze ends and he starts scowling.
But that’s fine. I have enough photos for now, and everything else is stored safely away in my memory.
“Cake time!” I smile brightly.
I retrieve the small wedding cake from the kitchen, carrying it like the precious treasure it is.
Two perfect tiers of vanilla sponge with buttercream roses, absolutely perfect for an intimate celebration.
I cut us each a piece with ceremonial precision, and when Carlo opens his mouth to say something, I feed him a large mouthful with a silver fork, the way newlyweds are supposed to do at every wedding since the beginning of time.
“Isn’t this delicious?” I ask, taking my own bite and savoring the sweet vanilla flavor. “I specifically requested extra vanilla because I know how much you love it. I remember you always taking seconds of vanilla cake at family birthdays.”
Carlo chews mechanically, his eyes distant and unfocused. He’s probably just overwhelmed by how perfect everything is, how seamlessly all the pieces have come together. Sometimes happiness can be just as shocking as sadness.
“And now,” I announce, setting the plates aside and standing up with renewed energy, “it’s time for our first dance!”
I consider untying Carlo for a moment, imagining how romantic it would be to dance with him properly, to feel his arms around me as we sway together as newlyweds. The image is so beautiful it makes my chest ache with longing.
But then he speaks, hope creeping into his voice in a way that’s almost heartbreaking.
“I’d love that,” he says quickly, too quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “I want our first dance to be special. Really special. Just the two of us.”
I pause, studying his face with the kind of careful attention I’ve learned to pay to his expressions over the years.
My poor Carlo. He’s such a terrible liar, it’s absolutely endearing.
The hope in his eyes, the way he’s trying so hard to sound sincere when what he really wants is freedom…
it all just makes me love him even more.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I sigh, reaching out to stroke his cheek with infinite gentleness, “you’re not ready for our first dance yet. But that’s okay. I love you so much, I don’t even mind that you’re still fighting this beautiful thing between us.”
Instead, I move to the center of the room and begin to sway to music that exists only in my heart. I close my eyes and picture Carlo standing with me, his strong arms around my waist, spinning me around the most beautiful dance floor in the world.
In my mind, the basement transforms completely. The concrete walls disappear, replaced by soaring ceilings painted with cherubs and clouds. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow light across polished marble floors. The air smells like roses and champagne and happiness.
Elegant guests in formal wear watch us from candlelit tables, their faces glowing with joy for our happiness. Dario and Molly beam at us from the front table, Molly dabbing at tears with a silk handkerchief. Nicolo and Liam raise champagne glasses in an eternal toast to our love.
And there’s Marco, tears streaming down his face as he watches his little brother marry the love of his life.
No more shame, no more hiding, just pure joy that I’ve found someone who loves me exactly as I am.
My parents too, finally understanding that this is who I’m meant to be and who I’m meant to be with, that love conquers all their old-fashioned fears and prejudices.
Everyone we care about is here, celebrating our love instead of hiding from it, embracing our happiness instead of trying to bury it in basements and silence.
The music swells in my imagination, a full orchestra playing the most beautiful waltz ever composed, and I spin faster, my dress billowing out around me like a cloud of starlight. This is what love feels like. This is what happiness feels like. This is what forever feels like.
When I finally stop spinning and open my eyes, slightly dizzy from the movement and the overwhelming emotion of the day, Carlo is watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
But that’s okay. He’s probably just as overwhelmed as I am by how perfect this day has been, by how seamlessly we’ve transitioned from two separate people into one unified whole.
“I love you, husband,” I say softly, settling back beside him on the bed and taking his hand in mine.
And for the first time in my entire life, I am completely, perfectly, utterly happy.