Epilogue
Zander – Ten years later
This is it. Twenty-five years in the making, and we finally made it.
Today is the day I get to marry my best friend.
I’ve been walking the same route up and down the floral carpet for the last forty-five minutes, trying to quell the urge to bring order to my surroundings.
I don’t think the staff would appreciate it if I were to start rearranging their carefully laid out chairs– even if one is slightly further forward than the rest.
I don’t know what’s got me so on edge, there’s no doubt in my mind that Jules is going to turn up; he always has.
This is the moment we’ve slowly been gravitating towards for so long; nothing could alter our course, nothing could stop either of us from being here and making this final commitment to one another.
But, as always, my body reacts like there’s danger imminent and it wants me to take action– by tidying… go figure.
We decided we would do it low-key, ‘inexpensive and effective’ was the oh-so romantic way Jules described it. Two witnesses, two suits, and two rings. We’ve never needed much, just each other, so it makes perfect sense, really.
“Alexander? If you will follow me, please…” A lady with a short, rounded bob and trouser suit calls from the open door.
My shoulders release the tension, and my fists uncoil, making me feel immediately lighter as I start moving towards her.
The worries lessened with the distance I closed, my mind catching on to the fact I’ll be with him soon.
We haven’t seen each other since last night; Jules was adamant that we uphold the tradition– even though I’m sure it doesn’t really apply to us.
But, if one night apart out of five-thousand-one-hundred and ten together kept him happy, I would entertain his notions, no matter how ridiculous I thought they may be.
My fingers squeeze between my tie and collar, wiggling to allow more space for the thickness growing in my throat. Is it hot in here?
We picked our own suits– separately, obviously. God forbid I see Jules’ before the big day. I went with an all-black set: trousers, shirt, blazer, and tie…
“Shit!” I spin to face the registrar, her face a picture of horror at my language. “Where’s Jules?”
“I’m sorry… Who?”
I shake my head when I remember– It’s Julian, dipshit.
“Julian… Julian James, where is he?”
“He should be just through that door, second on the left…”
I hastily jog towards the door, waving my hand over my shoulder in thanks and wrapping my hand around the doorknob.
“Jules?” I knock, muttering under my breath when he doesn’t answer.
“Jules, are you in there? It’s me, Zander.
” Nothing but silence greets me as my hand tightens around the handle.
I know I won’t be able to settle unless I follow through with the obsessive compulsion flooding my mind.
I’ll be in and out in two minutes. Hell, I’ll even close my eyes if I have to; I’m pretty confident my hands know exactly what to do at this point.
“Okay, I’m coming in…” I twist the handle and push the door inward, keeping my eyes cast down so as not to ruin the one request Jules had.
I don’t see any shiny shoes in my field of vision, but there’s a distant shuffling noise coming from the open doorway to my right.
I press my thumb to each finger in turn as I make my way over, the noise increasing.
“Zander? What are you doing here?!” I can’t control my body’s response to him; we’re like pole ends of two magnets drawn to each other, strong and inseparable.
Our eyes meet first, before I let them wander to explore him entirely.
He’s wearing a light beige suit, white undershirt and brown dress shoes; a glaring contrast to my all black fit.
A familiar thought spreads warmth from my chest outwards– he’s the light to my darkness.
The baby-blue tie draping over each side of his chest catches my attention– the whole reason I’ve broken his tradition.
“I–uhh… I came to do your tie.” Heat floods my cheeks at how menial it sounds, but the way he looks at me with gratitude and recognition, tells me he understands completely.
A fake sigh escapes his lips, and his arms open wide– “Have at it, then.”
I don’t miss the hint of his smirk as I cross the room, almost like he was expecting me this whole time.
I make quick work of the fabric with my fingers, knotting it the same way I used to when we were in school.
Slowly, I ease it closer to his throat, making sure to leave enough space for him to pop his top button when he undoubtedly gets flushed with heat and discomfort later.
Moving to take a step back once the tie is situated, I’m stopped by a tight grip on each arm.
“Thanks, Zan.” He presses a barely-there kiss to the tip of my nose and offers a gentle smile.
“Always, baby.” Pink stains his cheeks almost immediately. He’s always loved it when I call him that.
“We better go through… Are you ready?” It’s the most important, yet unnecessary question he’s ever asked.
There isn’t a lifetime in which I wouldn’t be ready to walk into forever with him. Standing in the doorway, I extend my arm out to him–
“Take My Hand, Jules.”
The End.