"I do," I say proudly, watching Marcus stare at me trying to hold back the overflow of tears. I have my hair pulled back, my curls full and long now. My dress is pure and lacey, the design perfect for my body. I feel beautiful, and lucky. Marcus stands across from me, clutching my hands with a suit and turquoise tie holding his composure.
"Mr. Marcus Lenter, you may now kiss your lovely bride, Mrs. Vivian Lenter."
He hesitates, just like the first time we hung out. He steps towards me, seemingly nervous. I roll my eyes with a huge smile, tears escaping the corners of his eyes. I reach for his face, my thumbs stroke his cheeks and my fingers gently rap in his hair. I pull him in and we kiss our first kiss, of many more, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as we both shall live.

The reception is filled with friends and family. My sister walks over with her new baby boy, Hunter, and her husband. My sister married years before Marcus and I, and she tells me of how she felt on her wedding day.
Suddenly, the upbeat and rambunctious vibe in the room halts. Everything falls silent. Marcus, who said was going to the restroom, is now in the center of the dance floor.
I hear a microphone tap, "Vivian Ellen Kenders Lenter, could you please come here for a moment?" Marcus beckons me, his hand excitedly waving for me to hurry. I make my way over, everyone with suspicious grins on their faces. I see a second microphone in his hand and he gives it to me.
I cover the mic with my hand, "What's going on?"
"Can I get two mic stands, please? Oh, Viv, there is a stool behind you," he says, ignoring my question entirely. I prop myself on the stool, placing the microphone into the stand.
"Hey, Jake? Could you hit the music please," he says into his mic, queing the DJ. I hear a guitar start to play, and I immediately know what is about to happen. Marcus glances over to me, a wide smile on his face. His body turns towards mine, and he looks at me like it's the last time he ever will. My heart swells as tear come to my eyes, and I start to sing. I choke up a bit, trying to hide my appreciation for his memory. I sing the first verse and chorus by myself, then he begins, almost as gleeful as me. We begin singing together, the last few words of the first song we ever sang together, on the first day we officially met. When the song ends, I jump off my stool and into his arms with tears blurring my vision.
"It's true, you know," he says with a laugh of relief.
"What's true?" My voice caught by my enthusiastic sobs.
"I really was made for loving you."
"Aw, Marcus!" My body pulses with adrenaline and my sobs escalate. He holds me there for a while, people cheering and clapping in every corner.
Once we contain ourselves, I sing a song I dedicated to him, I choose you by Sara Bareilles. He watches me with amazement, mezmerized by my voice and how fenominal it sounds to him as he's told me. After his tears of joy are wiped away, we carry on our first evening together as Mr. and Mrs. Lenter.