Paper Hearts

LATER

I will be married on a Saturday near the end of May.

I will wear an ivory bridal gown – because, of course, everyone would know I was lying if I wore white. I will wind flowers in my hair, perhaps roses, and wear it loose because Ollie likes it that way.

My father will take my arm and lead me out of a secluded stately home into the grounds, which will be stained gold with sunshine. Everyone I love will be waiting there. I will watch their retreating backs as my son and my best friend walk up the aisle ahead of me, holding hands. Emma will turn and wink when she reaches the end of the aisle, I suspect, before sitting with George on her lap.

I will think about my future, dreams flashing before my eyes before I even reach the aisle. I will think about the children we will have, and the holidays, the photographs we will take, the memories we will make. I will watch as we escape from our past. These thoughts will mean that I am smiling before I even reach the beginning of the aisle.

Dan, as Ollie’s best man, will turn and see me first. He will wink at me as Emma did, and probably make some sort of suggestive gesture. I will try not to laugh, but fail miserably, and smother the laugh with my bouquet. This will probably make Ollie laugh, too. Then he will turn.

He will smile at me, and probably mouth something to me too – perhaps that he thinks I am beautiful, perhaps that he loves me. Either comment will make my day, as they always do.  He will also give a thumbs-up to our grinning boy, who will be in a state of delighted wonder and excitement. My father will place my hands in Ollie’s and give me up to another man with a reluctant, rueful smile. Ollie will squeeze my hands tightly between his own as we speak the vows we will have written – it is likely that reading aloud something I wrote will make me blush. He will kiss me, to cheers and applause from our guests, perhaps even dipping me like Rhett dips Scarlett in ‘Gone with the Wind’, because he knows that’s how I’ve always wanted to be kissed.

But even if maybe our kiss isn’t quite so dramatic – even if I maybe stutter over my vows or look bad in the wedding photos or ruin my shoes in the grass and ferns – I won’t care. And neither will Ollie. Because at long, long last, we’ll get what we’ve always wanted. That one simple wish that we both shared, the wish that fate just wouldn’t let go of.

We’ll be together. Just like fate dictated.