Page 100 of She's Like the Wind
Lou made the floral arch.
Ryan brought two coolers full of beer.
Jonah bought two cases of champagne—Ruinart. What else?
Everyone cooked and baked and helped set up.
Gage’s mama cried all through the vows, and Kayla cried harder.
We’d written our own vows.
They were simple.
He said. “I’ll love you through the storms, the sawdust, the silks, and the silence.”
And I promised, “I’ll choose you in the mornings when your coffee’s too sweet, and at night, when your hands are rough, and I know you’ve been building something beautiful.”
He did get me a ring.
Not a big one.
Not a diamond.
But something far more Gage.
The band was forged from the wrought-iron salvaged from a balcony he’d had to replace on Lafitte House, where he first told me that buildings just need someone patient enough to bring them back.
Set into the band was a tiny rose-cut moonstone, luminous and soft, like the way he looked at me now. Inscribed on the band, barely visible, were three tiny words:You moved me.
There was no DJ, no choreographed first dance.
Just Aurelie and her band. She sang one slow song, then one filthy one. I’d never loved her more.
We danced barefoot on the grass.
We ate crawfish étouffée, fried okra, and boudin balls thesize of my fist.
When it was over, we didn’t drive off in a vintage car or throw a bouquet; we stayed and helped clean up.
Then we went home.
Later that night, he sat behind me on our little balcony, arms wrapped around my waist.
“Can you believe it?” I whispered. “We’re married.”
“I believe in you,” he said simply. “Andin us.”
And then he kissed the ring on my finger.
We had our big love, I thought smugly, the kind you build, the kind that stays.
It was like New Orleans at golden hour—sweet, sticky, a little haunted, and completely unforgettable.
Want more Gage and Naomi? Check out this bonus chapter: Paris Is For Lovers on my website at www.MayaAlden.com.
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