Zane and I held our wedding in autumn.
The ceremony took place in the garden of the villa he had given me. When the ginkgo leaves turned golden, the entire ground looked like it had been covered with a shimmering carpet.
The guest list was small. Only close friends and family attended.
My mother traveled all the way from our hometown. The moment she saw Zane, she clasped his hand tightly and wouldn't let go, repeatedly calling him a good son-in-law until even Zane's ears turned red.
The wedding itself was simple. There were no flashy performances or elaborate ceremonies.
Zane simply held my hand as we walked down the ginkgo-lined path, then exchanged rings in front of everyone we loved.
When it was his turn to give his vows, he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket nervously
