Page 71 of What About Now

I nod and move to the kitchen to get a knife to cut open the box. It’s small, and an odd shape. It doesn’t look like it holds paperwork. Maybe we left something at the chapel, and they’re sending it to us? I don’t remember Brogan mentioning anything that was missing from the trip.

“Here we go.” I hold up the knife as I take my seat next to her on the couch. Carefully, I cut at the tape and set the knife on the table in front of us. “Ready?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t avoid whatever is in there.”

Slowly, I open the box and pull out a thumb drive. There’s a note card, so I read that aloud. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lanigan. Enclosed is your fully edited video of your special day. Thank you for choosing The Little White Wedding Chapel.” I drop the note back into the box and stare at the small device in my hands.

“That’s a video. Of our wedding,” Brogan adds, as if she’s trying to process what I just read to her.

“That’s what it says.” I glance over to see her smiling.

“Can we watch it?” If I’m not mistaken, there is a hint of a smile pulling at her lips.

I swallow hard and nod. I want to watch it, I really do, but something tells me that I was way more into our wedding than what she was. I don’t think I forced her or anything, but if she’s not smiling and happy, if she looks resigned, I don’t know that I’ll be able to handle that.

I love her so fucking much.

Standing, I move to the TV and place the thumb drive into the USB slot in the back. Grabbing the remote from the table, I take a seat back on the couch and pat my chest. “I’m gonna need you over here for this.” She doesn’t argue. She just moves closer and snuggles up to my chest.

My arm wraps around her. I press my lips to the top of her head and hit Play. The logo for the chapel appears, and then the camera is on me. I’m standing at the altar.

“Mr. Lanigan, wave to your bride,” the female voice that’s recording says.

I wave, with a dopey smile on my face. My eyes are glassy, showing the amount of alcohol we’d consumed that night. “Hey, wifey,” I say, my grin growing wider.

“Do you want to say anything for the film?” the lady asks me.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you.” I blow the camera a kiss and stand a little taller.

“That was the groom. Let’s go check on our bride.” She walks down what looks like a hallway and knocks on a door. Brogan must have told her to come in, or someone did, because a few seconds later, she’s pushing open the door to step inside.

“Wave to the camera, future Mrs. Lanigan,” she tells Brogan.

Brogan waves to the camera. Her eyes are glassy like mine, but her smile is radiant. “Hey, husband.” She grins at the camera. “I can’t believe you’re going to be mine. This is the best day of my life.”

“Aww,” the woman running the camera says.

The video cuts off and turns back on to recording me standing at the altar. I shift from one foot to the next, but I freeze, and my eyes lock on what I assume is Brogan. They’re not showing her on the video, but it has to be my wife who’s captured my attention. Eventually, she comes into the frame, and I take her hands in mine.

The video cuts off again. This time it’s a new angle, and it points to the doors in the back of the chapel. When they open and Brogan walks through them, she’s glowing. She looks happy, and I can tell the moment we lock eyes. Her smile changes. It’s a little softer, but the look in her eyes says she’s exactly where she wants to be.

She wanted to marry me.

The camera remains on us as the officiant reads us our vows. When it’s time for the rings, I pull them out of my pocket, handing one to Brogan, before repeating after the officiant and sliding the ring on her finger. I watch closely for any sign that either one of us don’t want this. My hands are steady, and so are hers.

That process is repeated, where she slides my ring onto my finger, and then the famous words pronouncing us husband and wife are declared, and I get to kiss my bride. I watch as my lips move, but I can’t make out what I’m saying. Whatever it is, it makes my wife smile.

My eyes are riveted to the screen as I watch myself slide my hand behind her neck and guide her lips to mine. Brogan rises on her toes as I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her close.

Even on our wedding day, I couldn’t get her close enough.

When we come up for air, we’re both smiling. I lace her fingers through mine, and we turn to face the videographer. We raise our entwined hands and smile for the camera as we walk down the hall and out of the chapel doors.

The video ends with the logo of the chapel, just as it began. Brogan and I are both quiet, just staring at the screen, and the logo of The Little White Wedding Chapel, the place that changed our lives.

“We looked happy,” Brogan says. Her voice is small, but she’s cuddled up next to me, so I hear her just fine.

“We did look happy.”

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