Taking three giant steps, I go to her, taking her away from what's holding her and bringing her to where I was standing. There are words being said, but I hear none of it, only speaking when prompted. I spend the entire ceremony smiling at my bride and whispering to her how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are pink the entire time, embarrassed at being watched by everyone and by my repeated words. I think I say it to her a thousand times, but I just can't stop myself. She's just so incredibly perfect, and I love her more than I ever thought possible.

After the ceremony, I don't let go of her hand. People ask her to dance, but I refuse. It's the one day I can be as selfish as I want, and I won't have her taken an inch from my side. I hold her close as we sway to the music, waiting on the moment when I can take her upstairs. I want her to enjoy her wedding day and have all the moments she's been planning for, but I've had about enough of sharing her.