Chapter 31 Asia
Maybe Bella was right. Maybe I was crazy, because here I was once again with Nyree, making a reckless decision.
We went shopping together for outfits for our impromptu wedding.
Nyree had contacted the Justice of the Peace and we found someone who would perform our ceremony and bring a witness with them.
It didn’t make logical or rational sense, but we were still doing it.
We should have invited Bella, or at least our parents, but we didn’t. Nyree shared with me that his mother was worried we were moving too fast too, but at the end of the day, this was our decision.
My heart told me this was right, regardless of what everyone else said.
Saturday arrived with perfect weather—clear blue skies and warm sunshine, as if nature itself approved of our union. We drove to the courthouse separately, agreeing to meet on the steps. I wanted that moment of seeing each other, like a miniature version of a traditional wedding.
When I pulled into the parking lot, my hands were shaking so badly I had to sit for a minute before getting out of the car.
I checked my reflection in the visor mirror one last time—I had done my makeup, applied just enough perfume, and arranged my hair in loose waves around my shoulders.
The small bouquet of white roses I'd picked up that morning sat on the passenger seat.
"This is it," I whispered to myself. "No turning back now."
I grabbed the flowers and my purse and stepped out into the sunshine.
As I walked toward the courthouse, I spotted Nyree already waiting at the bottom of the steps.
He hadn't seen me yet, and for a moment, I just watched him—tall and handsome in his new suit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, checking his watch.
He was nervous too. Somehow, that calmed me.
When he saw me, his face transformed. The nervous fidgeting stopped, and a smile spread across his face that made my heart skip.
I walked toward him, feeling like I was floating.
"Hey, wife-to-be," he said when I reached him.
"Hey, husband-to-be," I replied, unable to stop smiling.
He leaned down to kiss me. "You look beautiful."
"You clean up pretty well yourself," I said, straightening his tie.
We turned to climb the courthouse steps together, hand in hand. The Justice of the Peace, a kind-faced woman in her sixties, was waiting for us at the top with her assistant, who would serve as our witness.
"Nyree and Asia?" she asked with a warm smile.
We nodded, and she led us to a small garden area on the side of the courthouse. It was surprisingly lovely, with blooming flowers and a small fountain. A perfect spot for an intimate ceremony.
"Shall we begin?" she asked once we were positioned.
Nyree took both my hands in his, and we faced each other as the officiant began to speak.
"We are gathered here today to unite Nyree and Asia in matrimony. Marriage is a solemn commitment, not to be entered into lightly, but with care, respect, and honesty..."
As she spoke the traditional words, I found myself studying Nyree's face—the curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, the precision of his perfectly crafted waves. This man, who'd crashed into my life so unexpectedly, was about to become my husband.
"Nyree, do you take Asia to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"
"I do," he said, his voice steady and sure.
"Asia, do you take Nyree to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"
I took a deep breath. "I do."
"The rings, please," the officiant prompted.
We bought simple bands the day before—a plain platinum one for Nyree and a delicate one with tiny diamonds for me. Nothing extravagant, but perfect for us.
Nyree took my ring first, holding it poised at the tip of my finger.
"With this ring, I thee wed," he said, sliding it onto my finger, his eyes never leaving mine. "I promise to love you, support you, and stand by you through whatever life brings our way."
My turn. I took his ring, my hand trembling.
"With this ring, I thee wed," I echoed, sliding the band onto his finger. "I promise to love you, respect you, and build a life with you filled with joy and understanding."
"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declared. "You may kiss the bride."
Nyree pulled me close, one hand at the small of my back, the other cupping my face. When our lips met, it felt different somehow—deeper, more meaningful, sealed with promises we just made before God.
We signed the marriage certificate right there in the garden, the officiant and her assistant adding their signatures as witnesses. And just like that, it was done. We were married.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson," the officiant said, handing us the official paperwork.
We thanked her and her assistant, then walked back down the courthouse steps, hand in hand, wedding bands glinting in the sunlight.
"So," Nyree said when we reached the bottom, "what now?"
A chill went through me. I was someone's wife. I was Nyree's wife.
"I don't know," I laughed. "I didn’t think past the actual ceremony."
"I have an idea," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let me make a quick call."
He stepped away, phone to his ear, speaking too softly for me to hear. When he returned, he was grinning.
"I got a surprise for you. Let's take my car."
Intrigued, I followed him to his car. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see." He opened the passenger door for me.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up in front of the St. Regis Hotel, one of the city’s most luxurious five-star hotels.
"Nyree," I breathed, "we can't afford this."
"It's just for one night," he said. "And this is our wedding day. We deserve something special."
The valet took his car, and Nyree led me into the lobby, my hand tucked in his arm. The marble floors gleamed, crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and everywhere was the subtle scent of fresh flowers.
Nyree approached the front desk with confidence. "Reservation for Johnson."
The concierge tapped at his computer. "Ah yes, the honeymoon suite. Congratulations on your nuptials."
Honeymoon suite? I shot Nyree a questioning look, but he just winked at me.
"Your suite is ready, and we've arranged the special amenities you requested," the concierge continued, handing Nyree a key card. "If you need anything at all during your stay, please don't hesitate to call."
A bellhop appeared to escort us to our suite, though we had only the small overnight bags we'd packed that morning, just in case.
As the elevator climbed to one of the top floors, I felt a flutter of nervousness in my stomach. This was our wedding night.
The suite was breathtaking—spacious and elegantly furnished, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of the skyline. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket beside a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries. Rose petals were scattered across the king-size bed.
"How did you arrange all this?" I asked as the bellhop set down our bags and excused himself.
"I made the reservation yesterday," Nyree admitted. "I figured, whatever happened, we would want somewhere special to celebrate afterward."
"It's beautiful," I said, wandering to the window to take in the view.
Behind me, I heard the pop of the champagne cork. Nyree came to stand beside me, offering a flute of bubbling champagne.
"To us," he said, raising his glass. "To new beginnings."
"To us," I echoed, clinking my glass against his.
As I sipped the champagne, I felt a sudden wave of doubt wash over me. What had we done? We got married without thinking. No engagement party, no bridal shower, no big wedding with friends and family. Just a quick ceremony at the courthouse and now this hotel room.
Had we made a terrible mistake?
Nyree must have sensed my shift in mood. He set down his glass and took mine, placing it on a nearby table. Then he took both my hands in his, his expression serious.
"Asia," he said. "I know what we did today might be considered reckless. But before we go any further, I want to do something."
He led me to the center of the room and, still holding my hands, closed his eyes. To my surprise, he began to pray. As I took in the sincerity of his words, my breath caught in my throat and tears welled in my eyes.
"Lord, thank you for bringing Asia into my life,” he began.
“Thank you for the gift of her love, her kindness, her brilliance. I ask for your blessing on our marriage. Help me to be the husband she deserves—to love her, respect her, support her dreams, and protect her heart. Guide us as we build a life together. Give us wisdom in our decisions, patience in our challenges, and joy in our journey. May our home be filled with peace, understanding, and laughter. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen. "
When he opened his eyes, they were shining with emotion.
Tears slid down my cheeks before I wiped them away. I hadn't expected this—this moment of spiritual connection, this glimpse into the depth of Nyree's commitment. He was serious. This man who seemingly came out of nowhere, was serious about me.
"That was beautiful," I whispered, squeezing his hands.
Nyree swallowed, but his gaze didn’t leave mine. His eyes penetrated my soul. "I meant every word," he said. "This isn't just some impulse for me, Asia. I love you. I want to build a life with you. A good life."
When Nyree said he loved me, all my fears dissipated. The doubt that had been creeping in receded. The spark between us, which had been there from the beginning, suddenly burned brighter, hotter. This was right. We were right.