Chapter 39 Luc
Late August in Besancon usually means good weather, though nothing is ever guaranteed.
If there had been rain, we would have moved into the farmhouse, our Plan B, but I always dreamed of this moment in the fields.
Now, Cody and I are under a sunflower arch, the sun’s golden rays making it look exactly how I’d hoped.
Behind us lie wide sunflower fields and a small patch of lavender, adding to the scene.
Around us, fifty guests sit on wooden chairs arranged neatly across the lawn.
Among them are my parents, Cody’s family, some colleagues from our places of work, and my model friends, Xavier and Jean, with their partners.
Maxime would be among them too . . . if they weren’t standing beside me as my best person.
We made things right last year. They apologized for kicking me out of their apartment, and a lot has happened since then.
It makes me happy to have them with me, and they look so beautiful in a soft pink button-up blouse dusted with sparkles, plaid trousers paired with a golden belt, and elegant high heels.
Their glistening peach-colored eye shadow matches their blouse, a subtle line of dark eyeliner sharpens their gaze, and the same subtle sparkle graces their cheeks and lips.
When Maxime arrived a few hours ago, they gave me a kiss on each cheek and said, in French, “Congratulations, mon chéri. I can’t say I don’t envy you. Cody’s a keeper.”
“He is,” I replied, nodding. “But you’ll be next to get married, just mark my words.”
Maxime smiled, looking genuinely happy, and I couldn’t have been more pleased to see it.
Cody’s brother, Brian, stands at his side as best man, and his sister, Kim, is one of our three bridesmaids.
The others are Joyce, his best friend from Brussels, and my colleague and friend Zoé, with whom I hit it off the day I started working at Utopie, the cake shop in Besancon.
They each look beautiful in their burnt-yellow dresses, which perfectly match the sunflower theme.
Everything looks fantastic, and the pieces are finally falling into place, creating what feels like the perfect wedding day. We’ve arrived at the most important part: Cody and I will now exchange wedding rings, recite our vows, and then we’ll officially be declared husbands.
He’s up first, and his brother Brian steps up to hand over the ring he kept for safekeeping as the best man. I’m glad that even though he has reservations, he’s done nothing to obstruct this wedding.
“I’m going to do this in French,” Cody says, surprising me with it. “Because I know you prefer it. Not everyone will understand, but don’t worry; I have it all written down in English for those who are interested,” he adds, looking at his family members.
Some people chuckle, and my stomach swirls. He guessed right; hearing the wedding vows in French will be another absolute highlight of my wedding day.
“Luc, we were born a continent apart, and the chances of our paths crossing were almost zero,” he says in French.
“If either of us had made one different choice, we might never have met in your father’s cake shop.
But we did, and I count myself lucky for it every single day.
Not a day goes by that I don’t thank the universe—and Joyce—for that coupon that led me to you.
” He glances at Joyce, the crowd laughs, and I melt.
“I almost threw it away, but I’m endlessly grateful I didn’t.
Because from the moment I met you, my life has felt complete.
We may speak different languages, but with you, words hardly matter.
I feel seen, known, and loved for who I am, just as I see and love you.
We want the same things, dream the same dreams, and I cannot wait to spend this life we’re building together, side by side. I love you.”
Warmth fills my chest, and I press my lips together, emotions filling me.
My goodness, that was beautiful. Not only has he done the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, he’s also said the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever said.
Okay, so the French is a little flawed, and he needed to read it off a piece of paper to get the right words, but still .
. . it’s perfect. So perfect that it almost makes me cry again, but I can’t do that.
Maybe after the ceremony I can let some of it out, but not now.
It becomes especially difficult to keep myself together when Cody takes my hand and slides the ring onto my finger.
The rings we picked are golden, elegant in their simplicity, and in tune with the theme.
They consist of two bands seamlessly fused together—one a bright, polished strip, the other a softer matte finish.
Combined, they create a clean, modern design that suits both of us.
With the ring on my finger and Cody holding my hand, a lump forms in my throat.
It’s inconvenient since it’s now my turn to speak my vows.
What’s funny is that I decided to recite my vows in English.
There were plenty of reasons to do it in French—we’re in France, most of our guests are French, and my native language is French—but ultimately, what’s most important is not that the guests understand it, but that Cody does.
And the only way to ensure that is to speak English.
Maybe it’s actually perfect; he recites his vows in French to accommodate me, and I recite them in English to accommodate him.
It’s a promising start to our marriage if you ask me.
Maxime steps up and hands me an identical ring to the one that’s now on my finger. That’s my cue.
“Exactly three hundred and sixty-five days ago, I met a man in Brussels. He had a silly name and a kind face, looking completely lost in my father’s cake shop.
And deep down, even though I told myself otherwise, I knew he wasn’t just a customer .
. . you were someone special. When you flirted with me and asked me out, it only confirmed what I already felt.
It took me some time to admit it, but I’m so glad I didn’t have to spend many days without you because I fell for you so hard.
Every day with you feels like a gift, another chance to see how you’ll make me smile.
And you always do. I may not always make it easy for you, but you never fail to make me happy.
I want to spend my life doing the same for you.
Thank you for marrying me, Cody. I love you. ”
When I finish, I reach for Cody’s hand and slide on the ring like he just did with me. He smiles widely, the happiness showing in his eyes, and my heart skips a beat.
The officiant continues, asking us whether we take each other as husbands, to which we both respond, “Je le veux.” And then finally, I hear the words I’ve longed for: “Je vous déclare maintenant mari et mari.”
I now declare you husband and husband.