Talia and I marry on a quiet Saturday in autumn, eighteen months after that anniversary celebration where we finally acknowledged what had been building between us for years.
The ceremony takes place in Second Ledger's garden, a small space we'd added during the original location's recent renovation, filled with flowers instead of the exploitation and grief that once defined every corner of our shared history.
Mira serves as my best woman, having taken a brief leave from her demanding task force position specifically to stand beside me today. Renn officiates, having become ordained specifically for this purpose, his easy warmth perfectly suited to guiding us through vows we've both waited considerable time to genuinely mean.
"I never imagined this," Talia says quietly, as we wait for th
