The Realms [Watty 2017 Shortlist]

Married - Part 23

            I stand in front of the waist height mirror in the bathroom and wish it would magically become a full length mirror. I feel incredibly beautiful. I don't know that I ever felt truly pretty, soul deep, like I do in this moment. The spark I had on the Third Realm is there, but muted. I do a quick joyful twirl in my dress, inhale deeply and exit the bathroom.

I turn the corner and Ryan is standing with the minister in the middle of the half fallen chapel. He is dressed in a dark suit but he's still unshaven and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. I'm light and calm and so unbelievably happy that I think I might burst or float away. My feet barely touch the ground as I make my way down; my eyes never leave his. When I reach him, I clasp his hand tightly and don't dare to look away.

The minister reads through the words that will bind us together on this realm and I listen to them half-heartedly. It isn't the words I want to remember; it's this feeling; I am soaring. When it comes time to exchange rings, another man I didn't notice steps out of the shadows with an odd contraption. I cock my head to the side and give Ryan a quizzical look. "Ryan?"

He gathers me tight to his side and says, "Trust me."

The man with the machine passes a piece of paper to Ryan and says, "This is what you were looking for?"

I notice the symbol and my breath leaves me and my heart falters. It's the bonding symbol from the Third Realm. It looks like just a collection of marks to anyone who doesn't know, brush strokes, crosses and diamond shapes but it's sacred. "Ryan!" I can't manage to articulate my fear and trepidation at what he's suggesting. Tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I can't do this.

The man gives Ryan a look marred with suspicion and indecision. "I thought you said she knew?"

"I think she thought I was joking. We might need a brief moment."

The minister and the man retreat back into the shadows out of the direct sunlight. With the sun's rays touching his face, Ryan eyes are a lighter, more playful shade of blue and they are sparkling like the ocean on a sunny day.

"What are you doing? We haven't done the proper ceremony for the Third Realm; it's not actually possible here. But, even still, that mark is sacred. I don't know what it means if we use that here." My voice is an urgent whisper.

Ryan shrugs his shoulders and then he rubs my arms in a soothing motion. "Can you just trust me? It'll be okay. He's a tattoo artist. It's not like on the Third Realm where the mark becomes a scar. It'll be beautiful and tiny – right above your heart." He touches the place he wants the tattoo to be.

"I – I don't know." I think about the Time Keeper and whether I'm royally screwing this up, but I want to give this to Ryan. It's tiny and relatively insignificant compared to an eternity apart. "Okay, okay. Yeah, okay, I'm in." I look up and meet his eyes, deciding that I want to make him happy one more time. I can't confess that it's not just for him.

#

I touch the spot where the small tattoo is etched into my skin. Although I will never admit it to Ryan, I find this version of the mark exquisite. It's all the right lines and combinations, but we chose different colours for each section and it matches the joy I feel at finally being married to him. I hear the shower turn off and I prop myself up on the bed to watch him emerge from the bathroom in only a towel. "So, husband, now that you have me, what do you want to do with me?" I'm still in my wedding dress and I'm amazed that he hasn't made any sort of move on me yet.

He gives me a wicked grin and reaches for the edge of his towel and gives it a little tug. I blush and curse my high school hormones and emotions. Sensing my sudden change in mood almost immediately, he tugs the end of the towel back in place and comes to sit on the bed beside me. He stretches out on his side and pulls me towards him into a tender kiss. "My wife." He moves back and his eyes run over my face before he grins. "My frickin wife." He glides his fingers over my tattoo and I lay my fingers on his matching one. We traced the lines in silence, memorizing the feel of each other's skin.