Epilogue
Eros
The Wedding
Three years later…
I stood at the front with my hands clenched behind my back, trying not to fidget but fucking failing miserably.
My father who stood beside Ambrose had already busted my balls because I was so nervous.
It wasn’t like she would leave me standing at the altar, but I was still nervous as hell waiting for her to come down the aisle.
The vaulted ceiling above me was painted blue and gold like a cathedral.
My brothers lined the back rows, wearing their leather cuts over pressed white dress shirts, along with polished, but worn motorcycle boots.
They all coordinated with me because after the wedding, Janea insisted we all take a photo together before going to the reception.
But I wasn’t thinking about them. I was thinking about her.
Just as soon as the notes of some R&B song she said she had always wanted to walk down the aisle sounded, I immediately stopped shifting and faced the doorway.
The officiant cleared his throat. Someone coughed.
A breeze moved through the open courtyard doors, carrying the scent of eucalyptus and the salty air of the Bay.
Then, a few moments later, she stepped through with her armed draped through her brother’s.
Brent walking her down the aisle was the only thing she asked for other than getting married at this place.
And I made sure it happened.
Her white tulle dress trailed behind her like a sea of soft clouds.
The front was cut just high enough to show her heels.
It wasn’t flashy, or over the top. It was just Janea.
Simple but beautiful. The satin and lace bodice hugged her like a second skin.
She pulled her curly hair into a side bun at the nape, adorned with a big white flower and a short, airy veil partially covering her face.
As she sauntered down the aisle escorted by her brother in a black tux., I didn’t breathe until she reached me. Her brother kissed her on the cheek, then shook my hand before he took his place beside her. He was pulling double duty, since they didn’t have any family left.
“You ready?” she asked, her voice low, tinged with happiness.
“I’ve been ready since the day I kidnapped you.”
She giggled, shaking her head.
The officiant spoke, but I barely heard him. The only thing I could focus on was her presence, her scent, and her vow to me. It was already written in the way she stood as the old lady of Eros, and now as the future wife of Nikolaus Kostas.
And in that moment, inside a mansion full of our family, we pledged to spend our lives with one another before God.
“I pronounce you husband and wife. Nikolaus, you may kiss your bride,” the officiant said.
I lifted her veil and pulled her into my arms, kissing her like I’d been holding my breath for years. Except for Ambrose coming into my life, she was the first thing that ever made me feel alive.
The room exploded. Boots stomped and whistles cut through the air. However, I blocked it all out. All I felt was her.
“I love you, husband,” she said, her thumb brushing my lip.
I pulled her back into my arms. “Say it again.”
“I love you husband.”
I pecked her lips. “I love you too, my lovely wife.”
We turned and faced the crowd of bikers who had come to see us get hitched, and as we walked down the aisle, we raised our hands in unity. This was the love of my life, and I couldn’t wait to start this new journey with her