He began crying.
“I’ll tell you about the hardware store and your terrible drawing.”
A few people laughed softly.
“I’ll tell you about our first pizza date. The lake. The dock. Room 12.”
I smiled through my tears.
“I’ll tell you how you asked me to marry you after only eight days.”
I took a breath.
“You chose me once, Mark.”
I held his hands more tightly.
“And I’m choosing you again. Right here. Knowing everything we may face.”
His face crumpled.
“I’m frightened,” I admitted. “Of course I am.”
I looked into his eyes.
“But I’m not leaving.”
He pulled me into his arms.
For a moment, we simply held each other.
Then Pastor Jim wiped his own eyes.
“Well,” he said, his voice trembling, “I believe this is where you kiss the bride again.”
Mark kissed me.
Behind us, the sun sank toward Loon Lake.
