17. Sophia
SOPHIA
W e decide there’s no reason for a long engagement. Life has already taught us we needed to grab what we have with both hands, and ther’s no point in waiting for a possible perfect moment that may never happen. Life is too delicate to waste in waiting. We need to live for the moment.
A month later, our wedding day dawns bright and sunny, but not too hot, a perfect autumn day in London.
We’re having a small service at a registry office in South-East London, followed by a get-together at a local pub.
It isn’t going to be a big, flashy event, and we’re both more than happy with that.
We don’t spend the night prior to the wedding apart, either, not wanting to spend a single night where we aren’t together.
My ivory dress has long, lace sleeves, and my red hair is loose in curls around my face.
My father is to give me away, while my mother sits in the front row, wiping tears from her face.
Everyone else from the tattoo studio, Carved in Ink, is here, too.
Art sits with Tess, his arm slung around her shoulder, while Kane and Holly sit with Holly’s son between them, the boy looking dapper in a little suit of his own.
Rocco looks insanely handsome in a dark blue, three-piece suit, and my heart swells at the sight of him. He takes my hand in front of the registrar—a rotund woman in her fifties—and leans in to whisper in my ear.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
His eyes shine with unshed tears, and I have to swallow my own tears of happiness.
The service goes perfectly, with Rocco and me grinning stupidly at each other as we say our vows, and then we slip a ring onto each other’s fingers.
I won’t be able to keep the ring on for any length of time, but Art has offered to do us the honour of tattooing the wedding rings on so we both have something permanent that I won’t have to take off.
“You may kiss the bride,” says the registrar, and so Rocco does, his lips finding mine, kissing me firmly, before sweeping me up in his arms and swinging me around.
Whoops of encouragement come from Art and Kane in the audience.
We leave the registry office amid a hail of rice and catch a black cab the rest of the way to the pub where the gathering is being held.
The pub is putting on a buffet for us, with a number of my favourites specially made for my diet.
I insisted on a lobster terrain and duck confit to remind us of our first date when we’d been reunited.
Everyone tucks in, enjoying the food and toasting the happiness of the newlyweds.
I nurse a glass of champagne, though I’ve barely taken a sip yet. I don’t need alcohol right now. My happiness is like a ball of joy swelling in my chest, and I can’t stop myself staring up at Rocco, amazed that the boy from my childhood is now my husband.
“I can’t believe how incredibly lucky I am,” he tells me, pulling me into his arms and nuzzling my neck.
I give a sigh of happiness. “I’m the lucky one. I never imagined this would happen for me. It all feels like a dream.”
Rocco’s friends from the shop beckon him to the bar, and I let my new husband go, but not before giving him another kiss. I’ve barely had the chance to speak to anyone else and don’t want to be rude to my guests. There will be plenty of time for fawning over my husband later.
I realise someone’s missing.
“Where’s Mum?” I ask my father, who’s sitting at one of the small round tables.
“She got a phone call and went outside to take it.”
“Oh, right. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I think so.” His gaze drifts over my shoulder. “Here she is now.”
I turn to see my mother pushing her way back through the pub.
Right away, I can see something has happened.
My mother’s eyes are glossed with tears, her expression strained.
The conversation around us dies away as others pick up that something’s happening.
An arm slips around my waist, and I glance up to see Rocco— my new husband—frowning down at me.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.”
My mother comes to a halt in front of us.
“Sophia, that was the hospital on the phone. They’ve been trying to get hold of you, but I told them you were getting married and didn’t have your phone.
I hate to break up your party, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to spend you first night as a married woman in hospital. ”
My stomach turns in a lurch. “What?”
My mother’s eyes fill with fresh tears, and she places the back of her hand to her mouth, her lips pressed together to contain her emotion. “They found a match for you, sweetheart. You’re getting a new kidney.”
I can barely believe it’s happening. Am I hearing things right? I glance up at Rocco whose eyes have also glassed over. “But it’s too soon,” I blurt. “I should have to wait longer, right?”
“No, the board say you’re the best match for it. With your age and health, they think you’ll give this kidney the best chance of survival. That you’ll be the one who’ll get the longest use out of it.”
“Oh, my God.” It finally sinks in. I’m getting my kidney.
Rocco pulls me into his arms and hugs me tight. “Congratulations, Mrs Walters,” he says against my ear.
T he next few hours are a blur of activity. I have to leave the party and go straight to the hospital.
Linda chuckles at me as she spots me hurrying down the corridor, hand in hand with Rocco, both of us still in our wedding attire.
“I bet you’re the first person they’ve ever done a transplant on who arrived in her wedding dress,” the nurse says.
I look down at all the white. “I hope they’re going to let me change first.”
“I should think so, yes. I don’t think white lace is normally encouraged in a surgical setting. And congratulations to you both. You make a beautiful couple.”
“Thanks, Linda.”
“I hope all goes well, and we won’t need to see you back in dialysis any time soon.”
I hug the other woman and keep going. There’s an atmosphere of excited anticipation around me, and I try to fight down the nerves churning in my stomach.
This is a massive opportunity for me, but it’s also a surgery, and there’s always the possibility that things could go wrong.
I also know that me getting a kidney means there’s a family who’s lost a loved one today and will be suffering the worst kind of grief, so while I’m overjoyed and thankful to be getting this chance, the happiness is muffled by fear, and compassion for my donor’s family.
From terrible grief has bloomed great joy, and I can never thank them enough.