Page 44 of Trig

I sit back down and scoot him close to me. He’s so young and vulnerable and just all kinds of fucked up. I nod and wrap my arms around my son. He breaks down into tears and falls into my chest. My eyes begin to water at the sound of his heavy sobbing. It’s ripping out my soul right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I keep repeating while rocking him.

His head is cradled in my hand against my chest. He cries and cries until there are no more tears left, but he never lets go. Not once. His fingers grip my shirt tightly, like he’s afraid to let go. I smash my face into his sweaty hair.

“I love you,” I say, which sounds weird. How do I love a kid I barely know? I do, though. I love him for the shit he had to endure, some that I will never know. I love him for his bravery, for his pain, and hopefully for his recovery, but mostly because he is mine. I will spend the rest of my time on this earth showing him what it means to be loved and what it means to give love.

Chapter 8. The Big Day

6 months later

The long-awaited moment has finally come. This is it. I’m going to marry Nine, officially. We’ve had these fake identities, living in a fake documented marriage, bouncing back and forth between multiple versions of us for so long, that even we got lost in the process. It’s time to make it a reality. To the public, we’re just renewing vows, but for us, this is it. It’s thee big day.

“Are you nervous?” the coordinator asks, smiling.

“A little,” I say, as I fiddle with my black tie. “Does this look straight? It feels off-centered.”

“It’s perfect. You look great.”

“Thank you,” I shoot back, still fiddling with it.

She points to her watch. “I don’t want to rush you, dear, but it’s time.”

I inhale deeply and then exhale.

“Okay. You sure that I look fine? My suit? My hair?”

She’s a short older woman wearing bright red lipstick and gold high heels. She almost gives off a grandmother vibe. She comes over and hugs me. She smells of Chanel perfume and hairspray. In her embrace, I feel at home.

“You look wonderful. Now go out there and get your bride,” she says, smiling.

I thank her and march out of the room. I steady my nerves as I walk down the hall to the two women waiting.

“Ready?”

I nod as they open the two giant doors. Everyone turns in their seats and looks at me. I walk down the aisle to the officiant. He smiles and then shakes my hand. My heart starts to pace in anticipation. I can’t wait to see her and make her officially mine.

As I wait, I look at our guests. It only took two private investigators, ten calls, six messages, and two emails, but my sister and her family made it down. I smile and wave at her and her husband. She tears up and waves back. A few local friends, close clients and allies, including Doc and his wife came. I nod at them. Doc gives me a thumbs up and winks.

Mya and Francisco start the ceremony off. They walk down the aisle toward me. Her in her little white dress and him in his little mini-Trig black suit. Mya is crying while angrily throwing petals in every direction causing laughter to erupt from the guests. She clearly needs a power nap. She grabs onto my leg and settles down once she reaches me. I hug them both and point toward the two chairs in the front row for them to sit in. My heart begins to pound against my chest as the music starts. The guests begin to rise out of their chairs for her and we all wait for that first look. I can’t take my eyes off those double wooden doors. I’m starting to sweat, and it feels like I’m going to pass out. The doors slowly open, and then, out walks the most beautiful woman in the world. The little air I do have is stolen and she can fucking have it.

She doesn’t have a father to walk her down the aisle and we discussed it prior to today. She insisted that she would be fine coming down by herself. At the time, I agreed, but looking at her now, I change my mind. She goes to take another step.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” I say loudly, while trotting down to her.

“What are you doing?” she whispers, smiling while looking around confused.

“I’m walking you down. I refuse to let you start our new life alone. Now grab my arm, walk side by side together, and let’s get married.”

She tears up, grabs my arm and clutches me tightly as we finish the wedding march. Both of us are a pile of nerves as we reach the altar. The officiant takes a step forward and begins speaking.

“Friends and family of the bride and groom, welcome, and thank you for being here on this important day. We are gathered together to celebrate the very special love between Angelina and Mike, by joining them in marriage.”

I take a deep breath in and stare into her eyes and then down to her lips. She’s just so fucking pretty today I can’t even concentrate on anything the officiant is saying. He continues as I take in her beauty. Her ivory short-sleeve, off-the-shoulder dress is molded to her body and every curve is curving. The wedding coordinator tip-toes up and adjusts the train of Nine’s dress, which snaps me back into reality.

“Marriage will allow you a new environment to share your lives, standing together to face life and the world, hand-in-hand. Marriage is going to expand you as individuals, define you as a couple, and deepen your love for one another. To be successful, you will need strength, courage, patience, and a really good sense of humor. So, let your marriage be a time of waking each morning and falling in love with each other all over again.”

She grins as she squeezes my hand. The officiant continues on for a bit and then it finally gets to the part where we say our vows. I take a deep breath and then I begin.

---