Harry:

I sit on the king-size bed, in the bedroom Emily and I share, jotting notes into my journal. Emily's footsteps cloud my thoughts as they continue to rush back and forth. She strategically gets ready for the wedding we are to attend in a few hours. As for myself, I'm still in my boxers and don't have a care in the world.

I watch as she paces the carpeted floor, eyes focusing on her outfit before her.

"Harry," She calls for me, her back towards me. "Gold or silver?" She holds up two sets of jewellery, glancing at me with a distressed and defeated face.

"Gold," I reply, nodding in her direction.

I turn to go back to my writing, but Emily's voice quickly, but lightly, pulls me from my thoughts yet again.

"Harry, please start getting ready." She whines, placing her hands on the opposite side of the bed. Her stare intriguing me, a smirk becoming prominent across my face. She can be so damn cute at times. "You know we have a long drive ahead of us, we can't leave a minute later than -,"

"For someone who doesn't want to attend, you seem very eager." I wink, knowing my words will strike a playful nerve in her.

She rolls her eyes at me, getting back to her mission of accessorising herself and making herself more beautiful, not that it is possible. To me, she is the most wonderful girl I have ever laid my eyes on, but she never believes me when I tell her. I observe as she wanders into the bathroom, leaving the door open and allowing me to peek in.
She wears just a sweatshirt and her underwear, but she has the ability to appear flawless in everything she wears.

I watch her for some time, admiring the way she gracefully moves, the way she captivates. She sets her hair into curls, pinning them to her head and pushing her hair back before she continues her routine to commence her make up. She has a way of preparing herself, and over the years it never fails to cause me to gawk over her even more. Those curls are my favourite, when she releases them they cascade over her shoulders, oh how they delicately fall over her shoulders and surround her face like a lion's mane.

"Harry." I hear her soft-spoken voice, "I know you are watching, can you please get ready?" She questions and I catch a glimpse of her eyes beaming over towards me as she adjusts a few curls.

I let out a sigh, quite enjoying my view and lazing around in my boxers. I give in, nodding my head and giving her a small smile. I write down a few last words before I press my journal to rest against the covers of the bed. I force myself off the comfort of the bed, my eyes glancing towards the suit Emily kindly got out of the wardrobe for me.

For a moment, I frown. I hate having to force myself into a tight fitted suit, it is like I am being forced into a damn penguin suit, all for the purpose to match every other man in the room.

"Em, isn't it a black-tie wedding?" I question as I notice a crimson red tie hanging against my white button-down.

Emily peeks her head out of the bathroom,

"No, we are going to be late, I know you are procrastinating." She points out, knowing me well enough to know that I don't put on suits too easily.

The only time I have couldn't complain about wearing a suit and tie, was our own wedding. That day, I didn't care what I wore, all I wanted was to marry the girl of my dreams, to see her walk down the aisle in the gorgeous gown she specifically chose.

I don't bother to question the crimson tie or the fact that I am very aware Emily went and bought me a new button-down just for today. With a heavy sigh, I force my legs into the suit pants, adjusting them at my waists before I am distracted by a sweet voice that has held my heart since the moment she was born.

"Hey, Angel," I smile down at Sophia, frowning when I see she isn't smiling up at me, "What's the matter?" I hum, tilting my head slightly to the side, my eyes focused on hers.

"I don't want you and Mummy to leave." She whispers softly, pushing her dark curls from her face.

I frown down at her, mimicking her stance. "Mummy and I need to leave, only for two days." I try and coerce her. "We will bring you a gift when we come back if you are good to Nana."

Sophia shakes her head, letting out a deep sigh to accompany her persistence.

"Why can't I come?" She whines, her frustration begins to peak as she stresses her disapproval.

I am out of excuses to provide her, as we have been through this topic more than once. Sophia always wants to be involved and has separation anxiety when it comes to Emily and me, which is understandable for her tender age.

I open my mouth, prepared to create another exaggeration for her to tame her wonders. Emily, from the bathroom, calls out to Sophia, in a tone that both she and I know is not playful. Emily peaks her head out from the bathroom, peering down at our little girl, now sitting on our carpeted floor, playing with my pant leg.

Emily strides over to her, bending over to lift Sophia into her arms and holding her on her hip. She gracefully walks over to the bed, sitting Sophia on top and placing a kiss on her head. I can feel Emily becoming frustrated with her, but she rarely expresses those emotions to Sophia directly.

"Daddy and I were invited to a very fancy wedding, and it is very important that we go alone." She nods, speaking lightly. "You can sit with us while we get ready."

Sophia sighs, slapping her hands on the thick white duvet of our bed. She finally gives in Emily's words and surrenders her fight that she has carried on for days on end.

"Did you and Daddy ever have a wedding?"

Emily pauses for a minute, softly smiling at Sophia as she runs her fingers through her hair. She begins to nod, her smile slightly grows, as I imagine, she is recalling our big day.

"We did." She confirms, "A big beautiful wedding."

"Tell me about it, Daddy!" Sophia claps her hands in excitement, bouncing on the bed. "I want to hear the wedding story!"

❅ ❅ ❅

It was Autumn, the leaves were crisp and altering colours, delicately falling and painting the ground with colours of browns, golds, and oranges. It was a relatively cold and eventful morning. I stayed at a hotel for the night, leaving Emily to stay in the comfort of our own apartment with her crew of Bridesmaids. I did not get much sleep, I was tossing and turning without the love of my life by my side to calm down my nerves. They were not cold feet nerves, they were excited nerves that insisted on pulsating through my body.

The drive to Westminster Abbey was the longest drive I have ever had to encounter, maybe it was the constant questions roaming through my thoughts, or the anticipation of not knowing which gorgeous dress Emily chose to wear. She had given me small hints with the details of her chosen dress, teasing me every time I would ask about the gown and try to work my charm on her. She never gave in and showed me, always leaving me with little detail. She believes in the old wives tale that it is bad luck for the Groom to see the dress before the wedding, just like, it is bad luck for me to see her twenty-four hours before the wedding. I, of course, complied with her wishes, but I will not deny the fact that I did try and scheme my way out of not seeing her this morning. I tried my best to convince her to see me a few minutes before arriving at the church, but, she refused. She was always a determined and adamant lady, something I admired from the moment I met her a few years ago.

Standing at the altar while dressed in the tux daunted me, I did my best not to constantly push my weight from foot to foot, nervously, beginning to wonder if the love of my life is having second thoughts, or if my sister, Gemma, managed to give her the gold bracelet I had bought specifically for this day. My eyes constantly glared around the large seating of the church, spotting different family members and friends, admiring how they all have such blissful smiles.

The moment I heard the orchestrated chords signalling the bridal party was ready, my heart skipped a few beats.

I remember the moment I laid eyes on her, I felt like all my dreams had finally come true. Emily, with her father linked to her arm, appeared in the tall wooden arch, her eyes glued to mine. She was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, her white dress complimenting her figure perfectly, to say she resembled a princess, would be an understatement. She gazed between myself and the floor, taking breaks from our eye contact to prevent an overflow of tears. Her dress was long and followed far behind her as the train swept the floor.

She was glowing.

When she finally reached the steps to the altar, her gold bracelet shone as the lights from the tall ceiling reflected off it. That bracelet would continue to be an object to confirm my love for her, from that day on. The gold and diamond necklace and earrings she wore sparkled to the same intensity, making it impossible to focus on just one aspect of her. She was beautiful as if she were a figment of my imagination. She lifted her dress up, carefully taking her steps to meet me on the alter. I offered her a hand as she came towards me, and when her hand touched mine, although it was soft and gentle, I swear I felt a surge of electricity between us.

Her father gave her away to me, providing me with a firm handshake before kissing Emily's cheek and taking his seat beside his wife. It was finally our moment. Before the priest began his ceremonial speech and commenced our wedding vows, Emily and I just gawked at each other and smiled.

"Are you ready?" I quietly challenged her, nodding in her direction.

Her smile grew wider if that were even possible. "I have been ready since the day I met you."

At that moment, I knew, I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.

The ceremony began and ended in the blink of an eye. The anxiety and shock of it all must have altered my perception of time, but I found my happiness to be at its peak as the ceremony came to a close.

Emily's vows struck me like lightning, leaving me stunned by her simple words. She had never been one to funny express her inner-most feelings, but at that moment, she laid it all on the table for everyone to witness.

"I have never loved anyone, the way I love you," She said, her hands shook as she held her small queue card, her words scribbled on its faint blue lines. "I learned to love myself through loving you, and I hope to continue doing so forever."

Her words left me in pieces. She was minimal in expression, but the words she spoke, so sweetly, made me feel like I had somehow fallen deeper in love with her. With her speech being concluded, it was now my turn to profess my love to her. With a vigorous exhale, my hand dove into my right pocket, then my left. With my folded paper unable to be found in the spot I swore it was placed, I raised a finger to the crowd, causing a light chuckle to escape their lips and echo in the large space surrounding us.

This would obviously happen to me on, probably, the most important day of my life. I turned and I unbuttoned my suit jacket, searching for the last possible place the page I had poured my heart out onto could be. And, of course, it wasn't in their either.

With no notes, and barely any memory of the words I had subconsciously written, slight panic set in, but didn't set me back in any form. I knew why I wanted to marry Emily, and that was something I could profess, unscripted.

"Alright, so, I definitely forgot my vows in my hotel room." Emily began to laugh at my distress, followed by all of the witnesses before us. "Emily, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You are the woman my Mother and Father hoped for me to find, and the woman my sister has been waiting to call her 'sister in law,' you are the woman that I want to wake up to every morning. I want to walk the rest of my life with you by my side... I promise to love you for eternity until death does us part, I promise to hold your best interests at heart, to love, cherish, and protect you. I promise to walk to the ends of the earth just to see you smile, I will do what it takes to keep our love sealed. I love you, Emily." I stutter through my vows, trying to do my best to express my thoughts to her, the thoughts that I had previously written perfectly. She smiled at me, her eyes shining the same gorgeous shade I fell in love with when we first met, a few tears shedding as she continues to grin at me.

After stuttering through my vows, making my soon to be wife shed a few tears, and causing our guests to chuckle at my forgetfulness, I hear the priest say the words that I have been waiting all my life to hear.

"Do you, Harry, take Emily to be your lawfully wedded wife?" He asked me, a wide smile on my face as I look at my wife,

"I do," I nodded, watching as she smiles back at me, melting my heart with her elegant charm and a sweet grin full of love.

"Do you, Emily, take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest looked towards Emily, his question seeming to drag on as I was eager to hear her say the words I had been waiting on for a while. I gently squeezed her hand the moment her voice fluttered my heart, her voice being a sweet melody to my ears.

"I do," Emily announced proudly, my nerves wanting to kiss her now and proclaim our love, but I did my best to wait for the go-ahead from the Priest, the Priest that took his sweet damn time in announcing whether he declared as us married or not.

The moment I heard him telling me to kiss my bride, I did not think twice, I stepped closer and kissed her in the sweetest, yet mildly passionate way. I felt whole; I had everything I could have possibly ever requested, the woman of my dreams now becoming my wife.

❅ ❅ ❅

Sophia glances at me with nothing but pure joy. The story of the love shared between her mother and I seems to have rid her from the disapproval of us leaving her for a couple of days and replaced those fatigued feelings with excitement.

My gaze shifts from Sophia, to Emily, who now stands in the corner of the room before her jewellery box. She is already dressed, in a long and fitted crimson coloured gown, complimenting a pair of jet-black heels. She has yet to release the waterfall of curls which have settled on top of her head, and although she isn't completely ready yet, she still looks darling — even from behind. She unobtrusively rummages through the mass amount of jewels she possesses, most purchased by me for her, to show my appreciation.

There was one set that she kept hidden from the rest, at the very bottom of the chest, in a royal blue box. The precious stones from our wedding. I knew, by sounds of exploring, that she was bringing them into the light again.

"Sophia," I call down to her, pulling her eyes from her mother. "How about you go play in your room for a few minutes, while Mummy and I finish getting dressed."

Without fuss, she stands from her seated spot on the bed, her feet sink deeper into the fluffy duvet. With exaggerated movements, she leaps down, landing on her knees before jumping up and bouncing out of the room.

I follow her, shutting the door of our room before turning back to Emily. The story of our wedding shows how drastically we had changed, as a couple.

It is now more obvious than ever that we are falling out of love, what was once shared between us is nothing but a distant memory. I don't remember the last time I saw Emily's beautiful eyes flow with the same love they once did. As she holds her wedding jewellery in her soft hands, the diamonds dripping down over her delicate fingers, I apprehend that we are holding on to the fragments of our remaining love — so tightly that our hands are bleeding before us.

"Emily," My words are tender, and she immediately turns to meet my gaze.

Her hands holding the blue box.

"I love that story," She confesses, dusting off the box before opening it. "These are so important to me, they remind me how lucky I am."

"Wear them." I insist, walking before her and holding her hands under the box.

"Harry."

I cut her off by gently taking the necklace from its confinement. I glance at it for a moment, the diamonds appear as stunning as they did the day we were married. I step to the side, going behind Emily and placing the necklace over her head and onto her neck. With a simple clip, the necklace is on, and I adjust it to fall perfectly over her chest.

Emily turns towards the large mirror, viewing herself fully before taking the bracelet and earrings out of the box. She slips them on, an easy task, as she has done numerous times before. As she closes the box and sets it onto our dresser, I step beside her, looking at her through the mirror. She pays me no mind as she focuses on herself. I observe as she shakily inhales, rubbing her arm as she looks on at herself, now with blurred vision from her tears.

"Don't cry," I hush her, offering an arm around her. "You look just as perfectly gorgeous as the day I married you."

She quickly collects herself, sniffling and dabbing at her cheek where a tear left its tracks. She runs her hands down her sides and over her hips, but it is still obvious that seeing herself in this jewellery has triggered her.

"Go put a shirt on," Emily finally says, turning to meet my gaze.

I don't disobey her command, I sigh and step away, grabbing my button-down and sliding it over my arms, hiding the many tattoos I covered my arms within my younger days.

I can't help but keep my eyes on Emily, the way she glows in her crimson dress brings me to my knees, so effortlessly perfect — she always has been, at least to me she has. I want to wander over to her and tell her just how much I love her; I want to show her how perfect she is to me, but I can't — I just can't — she'd never believed me.