Today was a day of joy, one that I badly needed. I think my seniors knew that; while I was only supposed to get a few hours on my own today, this morning Danit told me that I could take the entire day as a Sabbath, that she would see that my charges were taken care of. I was grateful for that, though I could see the pity and concern in her gaze.
I can’t help but feel that I should be doing better by now. How long is one allowed to grieve over something lost before it is no longer acceptable? Of course Danit and Zezette would never tell me that I may not be sorry. But it is still affecting my work, and I wonder if they have less sympathy because it was my own failure that brought this on. I wish, as they must, that I could leave it behind me.
But today was not about me, and I did my best to leave my sorrow behind, because I would not have wanted to be a specter at this feast. Today was Morgan and Brooke’s wedding day, and it was my delight to visit with them again.
They were a joy to any angel’s heart, both of them. Morgan was allowing a woman to create a masterpiece with her beautiful dark hair when I arrived—she sat patiently, but her stomach was jumping and she could hardly keep herself from leaping out of the chair. Meanwhile, only a few rooms away, Brooke was darkening her eyelids and brightening her lips, but the brilliance in her eyes was more dazzling than anything else.
They look different to me now—sweeter, stronger, somehow more themselves than they were. Separation and struggle in their relationship has settled both of them down into who they were always meant to be. They will fare well together, I know it.
I went back and forth between the two of them, as did their two families—they were keeping apart until the pictures, in order to capture the moment of first sight, but their mothers and siblings were not so restricted. Serena was already weepy, sharing tissues and stories, while Brooke’s mother Daria could not stop smiling. What warmed my heart most, however, was when Morgan’s brother and sister charged into Brooke’s room and showered her with blue confetti. “You’re stuck with us now!” they shouted, and all three dissolved into laughter. Brooke did manage to get rid of most of the confetti, but she intentionally left a few pieces in her hair—“that’s my something blue,” she said.
But the moment when the two saw one another for the first time…
Morgan’s father Samuel and Brooke’s brother Max were holding up a screen while the families ushered the brides into place. When the screen fell, and Morgan saw Brooke in her flaring cream skirt, her hair drawn back on one side with a jeweled comb, she gasped for breath. Meanwhile Brooke was pressing her hands against her mouth, staring through her tears at Morgan in sleek, palest white, lace gloves on her hands. They came together, their hands finding one another through long practice, and kissed, and the families cheered.
To me, they were wed to one another in that moment.
The ceremony was beautiful, though. They walked down the aisle together, with their families behind, and all those who meant most to them stood with them at the head of the church while the officiant spoke. There were white flowers everywhere, and the sun streamed through the windows, and Brooke and Morgan could not take their eyes from one another.
“I promise,” Morgan declared, “to go for walks with you in every new city I visit, and to nod knowledgeably whenever you start talking about its design and its efficiency. I promise to cook at least one night a week, and to try as hard as I can not to poison you. I promise to hold you close at night, and to suffer with you when the hard times come, and to sing for you whenever you want me to. You loved me first, but I promise to love you until the last.”
“I promise,” Brooke said when she could speak, “to be in the sixth row, left side, of every show, because that’s the best place to be. I promise to dance with you whenever you ask and believe you when you tell me I’m doing well. I promise to bring you out into the sunshine, and to hold your hands tightly when we’re in pain, and to write you letters when I’m away. Just know that because my heart beats in your chest, I’m never far from where you are.”
“And I promise,” I whispered to them both, “that this is only the beginning of joy. You will spend the coming years falling into one another, learning to be a unit, carrying one another through your separate weaknesses. Your love is true, and your friendship is strong, and you will carry each other to glory.”
And as they kissed and the church burst into cheers, I wrapped them tightly in my wings and blessed them with all the power and love that I possess. Morgan tipped her head back, gasping in wonder, and Brooke, for a moment, seemed to look right into my face, her eyes gleaming with tears.
And I was happy.