Had Harris had known what he was getting into with marrying a social media star, a board member of an international conglomerate, during a huge trial, he would've said—

He would have said 'yes, please' a thousand times.

Even if he had a hunch, it'd be a destination wedding. At a far-far-far-away destination. That it would take a year for Agatha and him to get to this sandy beach groomed by an army of wedding planners and their helpers.

Harris stood squinting in the sunshine, feeling the warmth of the sand under his feet even through his dress shoes. People and chairs almost covered the stretch of gold next to the limitless azure of the ocean. The waves lapped the shore and teased him with the prospect of the morning-after swim. The musicians played at the same volumes, the sound of strings blending in with the natural sound. An arch covered with orchids towered behind Harris' back, and their scent mixed in with the heady saltiness in the air.

From here, Wisconsin seemed like a distant dream, until he swept the guests with his gaze, picking the familiar faces from the worlds' elites. Dad and Lonita; their gawky kids. Mom. Lt. Jung with so many of the station's personnel sitting next to him, Harris had no idea how the City of Milwaukee was getting by while a firefighter was getting married. His smile widened: Milwaukee didn't go anywhere. He brought it here with him.

The music became louder, calling everyone to attention. Another smile curved Harris' lips, because the expression on his tiny step-sister's face was priceless. Her job was to strew the petals along the aisle, and she strew them with a focused commitment. The breeze caught the heaps of pink, red, and white out of her hands as soon as she scooped them out of her basket, making them twirl before they fell on the sand or flew away to the ocean.

"Great job, Sammie!" He gave the girl a thumbs up. She puckered her lips, as if to say, don't distract me, it's harder than it looks!

Harris let out a chuckle, then looked away from the flowers... and that was it. The famous guests, the breathtaking scenery, and the tropical sun faded into a hazy background. All he saw was Agatha coming toward him.

Her dress and her veil streamed in the ocean breeze. That damn dress was the best kept secret in the world for months, not that he even tried to find out what she'd be wearing to their wedding! They needed good luck in their lives. So, this was the first time he saw what two hundred thousand dollars bought nowadays.

Agatha's skirt was about the size of a parachute, scrunched up into silk roses, dusted with silver thread, then coated over with some more nebulous fabric. An irrational fear that his Agatha would float away on this swaying structure crept into his heart for a second. After all, they had been through, wouldn't it be ironic? But love grounded her satin shoes to the sand, or so he hoped.

At any rate, despite the billowing silks and gauze, despite the guests stopping her with smiles and tears, Agatha made it all the way down the aisle. She stopped next to Harris before the priest, and he put his arm on her back, feeling a thousand pearl buttons. The sadist, calling himself a tailor, picked them smaller than a pea size and set them about an eighth of an inch apart. The bodice-ripper, in his case, would be more of a bodice-unbuttoner later tonight. Sucks to be him, heh. But it would be a perfect night, with Agatha in his arms, not just on Facetime. One of those nights when her mouth melted under his. When she squiggled for an hour before nestling in perfectly next to him.

"Dearly beloved," the priest started, and Harris smiled so wide, it lit up the sunny paradise. His life would be full of this sunshine that no clouds could ever dim completely. This wasn't happiness. This was bliss.

THE END

Calgary, Alberta

last edited: June 22, 2025