Chapter 13 - The Wedding of White Roses
On a warm, magnificent Saturday in June 2028, Jack and I were married at an estate overlooking the ocean in Newport, Rhode Island.
The ceremony was filled with blooming white roses, lavender, and gentle ocean breezes.
Our guests included city leaders, corporate executives, former NICU doctors we had funded through our foundation, Marcus, Gabriel, my old freelance colleagues, and my parents—whose medical debts had been cleared long ago and who looked at Jack with profound fatherly pride.
I walked down the long grass aisle wearing a sweetheart-neckline gown of ivory lace, holding a bouquet of white peonies.
Jack stood at the altar under a canopy of roses, looking devastatingly handsome in a navy tuxedo. When his eyes met mine, he wiped away a quick, silent tear, his face radiating pure, unadulterated happiness.
When my father placed my hand in Jack's, Jack leaned in and whispered, "You are the most breathtaking vision I have ever seen, Emily."
We exchanged vows we had written ourselves—promises of unwavering loyalty, shared strength, and an unconditional commitment to protect each other through every storm life might throw our way.
"I choose you," Jack spoke clearly before our gathered loved ones, "not just as my wife, but as my partner, my equal, and my guiding light. I promise to honor you, respect you, and cherish you for all the days of my life."
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"I now pronounce you husband and wife!" the minister announced joyfully.
Jack pulled me into his arms, kissing me deeply as our friends and family exploded into deafening applause under the warm summer sun.
