Head Over Heels Âœ“ 37 / at last

december, age 26

The sun was shining for the first time in days. It wasn’t painfully cold after two weeks of miserably chilly days, the temperature lingering above zero as the weak sun sat low in a pale sky: it was all set to be a mild Christmas, just a week away. The bare trees swayed in the gentle breeze, bony branches scratching the mist that hung in the air like a held breath.

Everything had changed. The past eight months had verged on impossible at times, trawling through each day minute by minute, taking the hours as they came. There had been times that Lucas had put everything on hold to be with Mika, to hold her as she wept and to listen to her as she unloaded everything that crowded her mind until she snapped. Sometimes all she needed was for him to get her out of the house, forcing her to let go of the shackles she had tied herself up in.

The graveyard was silent, empty of life except for the birds that swooped over the pond at the bottom of the slope, the ducks that rippled the calm water when they paddled towards the only person in the cemetery.

Lucas headed towards her too. A scarf wound around his neck, he tucked his chilly hands into his pockets and crunched down the gravel path past the old, crumbling gravestones that surrounded the church. The further he walked, the fresher the graves. Some didn’t have headstones yet; some had only just been dug. The flowers were brighter down there, marking the lost lives of people whose families remembered them like a painful wound that wouldn’t heal.

Mika was standing by the water. She stood as still as the stones, her hat pulled down low and her scarf worn high, her elbows tucked close to her body as though she was trying to take up as little space as possible. She turned a moment before Lucas spoke when she heard a pebble skitter across the path behind her, and his face fell to see the tear tracks down her cheeks that betrayed her smile.

“Hi, Mika,” he said.

“Hi.” She rested her head against his chest when he hugged her, closing her eyes and breathing in his embrace. Over the past eight months, he had been her rock even when she hadn’t asked him to be there for her. She let out a long sigh, holding onto him for a moment longer before she dropped her gloved hands to her sides.

“How’s it going?” Lucas asked. He stood beside her, the two of them watching the ducks that quacked in the water.

“It’s ok.” She slowly nodded and gave him a smile as soft as her gaze. “I’m ok. Just … thinking.” She lowered her head, trying to surreptitiously dry her cheeks. “Sorry. I don’t want to ruin today. I’m happy, really,” she said quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. Her words hardly matched her eyes.

“But?” Lucas rested his hand on her shoulder. The past year had been a crash course in learning how to deal with Mika, figuring out how to help her process her grief and her guilt. Sometimes a single word was all it took to help her untangle her feelings.

“I can’t help but think that maybe the life I planned out just isn’t meant to be.” She clasped her hands in front of herself, watching a solitary bird as it swooped down to the water. “Next Saturday should have been my due date. Now it’ll just be another weekend.” She took a deep breath, the air fogging when she let it out. “Sorry. I know I need to pull myself together.”

“No you don’t,” Lucas said. “You’re allowed to grieve, Mika. Of course you don’t need to pull yourself together. But if you ask me, you’re already the most put-together person I know. And you’re the strongest. I admire you so much.” He smiled down at her, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “You’re a fighter, Mika. You’ve fought so hard. But you don’t need to fight anymore.”

Her sob was muffled by Lucas’s coat, her shoulders shaking beneath his arms for almost a full minute before she pulled away and dropped her hands from her face, shaking off her emotion. “Thanks, Lucas,” she said. “I really couldn’t ask for a better friend than you, you know. You’re incredible.”

“Right back at you,” he said. He had never quite learnt how to take a compliment, even from his closest friends. “Are you going to be ok?”

She nodded. “I’m ok. I just had a bit of a moment,” she said with a sniff. “I’m good, I am. And you’re right. It’ll all work out.” With a more genuine smile she wiggled her left hand. “I can move my fingers again.”

“There we go – progress,” Lucas said, giving her his most supportive smile, and he checked his watch. “Are you coming inside? It’s a bit nippy out here and it’s nearly three.”

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, Lucas. Yes, of course. I don’t want to make you late. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He hugged her again. Seeing how much life could change in the blink of an eye had given him a newfound appreciation of his own, a looser grip on the neuroses that had gripped him his whole life. Rather than taking life even more seriously in the wake of devastation, worsening his paranoia, he had learnt to focus on the people in his life and all the positivity they exuded.

There was a crunch behind them, the scrape of gravel on gravel followed by a voice.

“I was wondering where you two had got to. Is everything ok?”

Mika nodded and smiled, bending down to kiss her husband. She had been outside for long enough that her lips were icy cold against his and he laughed, pulling her onto his lap. She looped her arm around his shoulders, resting her forehead on his cheek. “Sorry,” she said. “I just needed a bit of fresh air. Just had a bit of a moment.”

Tom’s face fell to see his wife’s distress. She never tried to hide her emotions from him, and neither did he shy away from her when all he wanted to do was scream at the world for taking so much from them, but that didn’t make it any easier to see her in pain.

The night they had found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in a bomb blast in the middle of the city when they had been out to celebrate, their lives had been thrown into the air for them to scavenge the pieces. Some were still missing; some would never be found. They had been lucky, or so people tried to tell them. In the days after the blast, the death toll had risen to twenty. For too long, it had looked as though Tom might have been number twenty-one, but he had pulled through right when his family was beginning to lose hope.

He should have died. That was what every doctor had said. When had thrown himself on his wife to protect her from the blast, he had thrown himself right in the path of the shrapnel that had torn through his body. Hours in surgery had put a stop to major internal bleeding that should have killed him; a second surgery had saved him from a near-fatal brain haemorrhage; almost a month in a coma had given his body time to recover. The doctors were some of the best in the country: they had saved his life, and they had saved Mika’s arm, but they couldn’t save her baby.

That had been the icing on the cake. Even after enduring a gruelling ten-hour surgery to save her arm, Mika had worn a brave face, praying for her husband. When they had told her he may never walk again, she had been optimistic about the future. But when her doctor told her that she had miscarried, she had broken down. That night, she had wept against Maddie’s shoulder until she couldn’t keep her head up anymore, sobbing herself to sleep without her husband by her side.

It had been a month before Tom had woken up. It was another three before he had been discharged in a wheelchair with no guarantee that he would ever walk again. But there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t, and he was determined. The accident could have torn him and Mika apart; it could have extinguished their flame, but it had only pushed them closer together. Every hardship, they faced together. Mika was right by her husband’s side for every physiotherapy appointment; he held her every time she wept for the child she had dreamed of.

“I’m ok now,” Mika said. She kissed Tom’s cheek, nuzzling against his warmth. “I just needed a breather.” Looking up at Lucas, she flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry for ruining your day, Lucas. Today of all days. I’m really sorry.”

“You haven’t ruined my day at all,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re both here.” He gripped the handles of Tom’s wheelchair to head back towards the church.

“Do you really think we’d miss your wedding?” Mika laughed, her eyes sparkling once more. Her sunny smile returned as she held onto her husband, draped over him like a blanket. “We’ve been so looking forward to this, Lucas. It’s long overdue.”

“My little nephew, all grown up,” Tom said with a laugh. He tipped his head back to look up at Lucas. “I’m so happy for you Lucas, really. I can’t wait for you to be married. It really is the best thing in the world.” He kissed Mika’s cheek and she beamed, sinking against him, and it warmed Lucas’s heart to see that no matter life threw at them, they always found a way out, holding each other up when they world tried to push them down.

*

The ceremony was due to start at three. At five to, Lucas couldn’t wait to walk down the aisle at last, to finally say the vows he had been practicing for more than twenty years. He wasn’t nervous about how many people sat in the audience, his sprawling family and his friends: all he cared about was standing opposite Asher and proclaiming his love.

“Ready?” Floyd ducked out of the church to join Lucas, followed by Truman.

“I’m ready,” Lucas said with a wide smile for the two men who had spent their lives proving what it was to be a good father. When it had come to the ceremony, Lucas couldn’t bear the thought of his stepfather not being a part of it when he had been as much a father to him as Floyd had, so a couple of months ago he had asked them both out a drink and put the question to them. Would they both walk down the aisle with him? Truman had been so moved by the question, too choked up to answer: Floyd had answered on his behalf. Of course.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening,” Floyd said, pulling Lucas into a hug. “I can still remember when you were four and you told me you were going to marry Asher. You were so determined.”

“I got my own way,” Lucas said. He couldn’t shake the grin from his lips. He didn’t want to.

“I still can’t believe my little Lucas is getting married.” Floyd’s voice cracked a little. He was on the edge of tears, wrought with the emotions of seeing his oldest child taking such a huge step, years after he had helped him take his first step. “I used to be so worried you were going to get your heart broken but you were always so determined. That’s my boy: you know what you want and you go for it.” He squeezed Lucas’s shoulder and beamed, blinking a few times. “God, look at me. Hasn’t even started yet and I’m hardly keeping it together.”

Truman chuckled and patted Floyd’s back. “There’s nothing quite like seeing your child getting married,” he said. Despite his insistence that he could make it through Audrie’s wedding without shedding a tear, he had failed before she had finished saying her vows. “At least you’ll only have to do it three times!”

Floyd laughed. “Oh, shit. You might still have six more to get through.”

Lucas couldn’t imagine his siblings getting married. He didn’t want to: he wanted them to stay young forever, for them to always be his innocent brothers and sisters. He struggled to imagine going home one day and not having three boisterous boys running about, but three sullen teenagers, or the inevitable day that the last of his brothers flew the nest.

“We’re so proud of you, Lucas,” Truman said as he adjusted Lucas’s tie, brushing a speck of fluff off his lapel. “You deserve this. You deserve everything you want from life.” He gave in to his emotions, pulling his stepson in for a hug. “I love you, Lucas.”

“I love you too,” Lucas said before turning to his father, hugging him once more. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you more, Lucas. I can’t possibly explain how much,” Floyd said. “When you’re a father, you’ll know. It’s the most mind-boggling feeling, watching you grow up and make your own life. You’ll see.”

He would. He and Asher had reached the final stage of the adoption process. All they were waiting for now was the final confirmation, the call that would make them parents, and Lucas was glad they had chosen to start the process before their wedding: the waiting was killing him, but preparing for the wedding had helped.

Truman checked his watch. “Twelve o’clock,” he said. He held out his arm to Lucas. “Ready?”

Lucas looped one arm with Truman’s, the other with Floyd’s. “I always have been.”

*

The church was full. Lucas had always imagined a small wedding but that was impossible with a family as large as his, a veritable swarm from his mother’s side before he even counted what seemed like hundreds of cousins and aunts and uncles from his father’s side of the family. Asher’s was paltry in comparison, an aunt on his mother’s side and three on his father’s, though only two had been invited, and he had no grandparents to speak of.

Mira and Mawar were sitting in the row behind Sarah, filming the whole procession. Lucas smiled for the camera, too excited to shy away from the lens, from his friends who had travelled four thousand miles to be there for his wedding day. They were making a holiday of it, spending three weeks in Farnleigh over Christmas with Mawar’s family. Mawar gave Lucas a thumbs up as he passed, sitting on the edge of her seat as though she couldn’t get close enough.

He was the second to walk down the aisle, bookended by his fathers, and when he passed his friends, he beamed at his mother who was already shiny-eyed in the front row, surrounded by her children. He hardly noticed anybody else, his eyes trained on the front of the church where Asher stood grinning with his hands clasped in front of himself. Lucas couldn’t tear his eyes from him, drinking in the sight that threatened to turn his knees to jelly before he made it to the front.

“Hi,” Asher whispered.

“Hi.” He reached for Asher’s hands, desperate to pull him closer and hold him tight. But that would have to wait. The next time they hugged, they would be married. Their next kiss would be as spouses.

“You look fantastic.”

“So do you,” Lucas said, drinking in the sight of Asher in a suit. It wasn’t often that he dressed up but when he did, he did it well. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you too.” He looked over at the minister. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Lucas struggled to focus on the minister’s words as he made his opening remarks, addressing the congregation. All he could think about was the vows that he kept rewriting in his mind. He hadn’t tried to memorise anything. He didn’t want to stumble over his words, trying to remember something he had penned. Instead, he and Asher had agreed to say what they were feeling. That was all that mattered, after all. He was brought back to reality when he heard his name.

“Lucas Langley Flores, will you take Asher Hari Knight to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

He held Asher’s gaze as he said, “I will.”

The minister turned to Asher. “Asher Hari Knight, will you take Lucas Langley Flores to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him for as long as you both shall live?”

“I will,” Asher said. No hesitation. The words had been on the tip of his tongue.

“And now,” the minister said, “the couple have written their own vows.”

Lucas took a deep breath. He pushed his glasses up and lost himself in Asher’s eyes, his hands signing on autopilot. Charlotte was sitting in the front row, devouring every movement as she watched her big brother get married.

“I love you,” he said. He could have stopped there: that summed up everything he could ever say. “I’ve always loved you. Before I knew what love was; before I knew who I was. I have always been half of a whole. You have always been the other half. You’re everything to me and you always will be: I don’t know myself without you. I don’t want to.”

He felt his throat tighten and he swallowed hard, his smile growing as his vision began to blur behind his lenses. “Somebody once told me that you should marry your best friend, that you should make promises to last a lifetime. You’re my best friend, Asher, and I promise that you always will be. I promise to love you now and forever as I always have.” Taking a shaky breath, he added, “I promise to hug you. And I promise to share my books, and my crayons.”

Asher’s grin widened when he heard the familiar words, if that was possible when his beam was bright enough to light the room already.

“I promise to share my life with you,” Lucas said, “for better, for worse, forever.”

Asher blinked a couple of times. He was going to cry. Lucas gritted his jaw to stop himself from succumbing to his emotions first, and he refused to tear his eyes from Asher.

“I … I promise to play with you forever,” Asher said. He remembered. “I promise to play house with you, even when we’re old. I promise to love you forever, Lucas. I already do. I promise to give you everything, to be your everything, to make you happy. I promise never to let you down.”

He dropped his hands to Lucas’s, their fingers finding each other’s. Asher closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, running his thumb over his fiancé’s knuckles. “I promise to share my Haribos with you. Even the squishy eggs and the hearts.”

Lucas laughed. He couldn’t help it, his heart so full of love that it had to burst out somehow, and his laughter brought a tear. From his pocket, he took out a simple silver band. Asher did the same, and he held Lucas’s hand.

“With this ring,” he said, slipping it onto his finger, “I thee wed.”

Lucas’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the ring on his hand, the mark of his marriage. He took Asher’s hand in his own. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he repeated, pushing the ring onto his finger. He didn’t let go of his hand. He couldn’t bear to. He looked over at the minister, who smiled.

“I now pronounce you married.”

With those words, Lucas felt as though his heart might burst out of his chest. His grip on Asher’s hands tightened and he pulled him close, holding onto him as they kissed for the first time as husbands.

There was a cheer from the audience, followed by a chorus of laughter. Lucas didn’t have to look to know it was Ishaana who had whooped as they kissed. No doubt she had just made a little extra money. She had been on his side for as long as he had, right by his side every step of the way as he had pined for her son; she had built up his confidence with her support, always there to offer her ear and a sage word of advice.

“I love you so much,” Asher murmured against Lucas’s lips. “I love you, Lucas. I love you more than any vows can explain.”

Lucas couldn’t speak. His throat was thick with unwept tears, the lump that he had kept down until now. Instead, he gripped Asher, holding onto him as though his life depended on it. The service was over, with only the signing of the register to go, but he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move from that moment of perfection, standing at the front of the church with his husband. He didn’t want to let the moment go.

*

The glass in Ishaana’s hand clearly wasn’t her first when she swept across the reception to Lucas and Asher, a tipsy twinkle in her eye as she looped her arm around Lucas’s shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Welcome to the family, hun,” she said, hugging him tightly with one arm. “It’s about fucking time!”

“Thanks, Ishy,” he said with a grin, his second glass of Prosecco in his hand. He and Asher had yet to spend a moment apart as they milled around their friends and family, occasionally sloping off hand in hand for a moment of peace. “I couldn’t ask for a better mother-in-law.”

She clutched her hand over her chest, a weepy smile on her face. “I know you have plenty of parents already, but you’ve always been a son to me, Lucas. There’s always been a place for you, in my home and in my heart.”

“And your bets,” he joked. Ishaana grinned. She couldn’t deny it. Without Lucas in her life, her bets would have been fewer and farther between.

“You know it, hun. Speaking of, I’m sure Bishop owes me something now … I always knew you two would get married.” She cupped his cheek. “I was always rooting for you. Twenty-two years, I’ve been waiting for this day. And I am so glad it happened. Such a beautiful day. You’re such a handsome couple.” She pulled Asher over and kissed his cheek. “My baby boy just got married. I can’t believe it.”

Asher wiggled his left hand, the ring on his finger catching the light. “You’d better believe it, Mum. I’m a married man.” He slipped his hand into Lucas’s and squeezed. “It won’t be long before Sadie’s getting married.”

“Oh, God, don’t even joke,” she said, despair crossing her features as she scanned the room for her daughter: she was hanging out across the room with Charlotte, the two of them signing away in the corner. Twelve-year-old Sadie was growing up fast, and Ishaana sometimes had remind herself of that, loosening the reigns with her little girl when she found herself being a little too protective. “I need her to stay a child for the next ten years, I think.”

Bishop joined his wife, slipping his arm around her waist and chuckling at her. “Congratulations, boys,” he said, hugging his son first and then Lucas. “About time, eh?”

“At last,” Asher said with a grin.

Bishop nudged his wife. “Another son married … we did something right, hun.”

“They couldn’t wait to escape us!” She finished off her wine, setting the empty glass down on the closest table. “I’m so happy for you. God, I can’t explain how fucking exhilarated I am for you. This … this is all I’ve wanted for so fucking long.”

Lucas looked up at Asher and then at his in-laws. “Me too.”

*

Although the church was only a few miles away from home, Lucas and Asher had booked a hotel for a couple of nights, a little bit of luxury before they headed back home for Christmas. They hadn’t planned a honeymoon, choosing instead to spend their first couple of married weeks relaxing at home for the holidays, and Lucas couldn’t wait. Nothing had changed, not really: he and Asher had already lived together for five years. Now, their love was legal, and all he wanted was to slip back into the comfortable life they had built for themselves.

After hours at the reception, wining and dining with the people they loved most, they were tired and tipsy when they tripped into their hotel room with a laugh. Asher dramatically flopped onto the bed, wrestling his tie with clumsy fingers until he gave up. Lucas shrugged off his jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair before he slipped out of his shoes and sat next to his husband, dropping back with a sigh.

Asher reached over, feeling for his cheek, and he rolled over to face Lucas. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Have I … have I told you lately that I love you?” He shuffled closer to kiss him, propping himself up on his elbow to loom over Lucas.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Lucas said, leaning into the kiss. He could never hear those words too much, the confirmation that he had everything he had ever wanted. He had Asher. He had married Asher.

Asher kissed his cheek and his jaw, tasting wine on his tongue. “Well, I do.” He dropped back onto the mattress, a loopy grin on his lips. “We did it.”

“We did it.” He turned his cheek against the cool duvet.

“Come here.”

He shifted over. Asher wrapped his arms around him.

“I have a confession to make.”

“What?”

“There’re two reasons I wanted a winter wedding,” Asher said.

“Because it’s when we got together?”

“That’s one.”

“What’s the other?”

Asher grinned. “Because it gets cold,” he said. “It’s going to get really cold tonight. We should snuggle for warmth.” He winked, as well as he could with several glasses of bubbling wine popping through his body. “Not that I need an excuse to cuddle you, baby.” He kissed Lucas’s neck and sighed against his skin. “God, I’m shattered.”

“Me too,” Lucas said. “I know this is incredibly unromantic, and not very wedding night-ish, but what do you say to tucking up with a film?” He yawned and covered his mouth, though he had already set Asher off.

“You just read my mind. I prescribe … a cup of tea and a romcom.”

“I definitely married the right person,” Lucas said with a tired laugh. He rolled off the bed and got to his feet, a little shakily, to find the remote and change into something more comfortable than his wedding suit. It was an effort when he had imbibed more than he usually liked to drink around his family, but after a full three minutes of wrestling with his clothes, he wore a pair of fleecy flannel pyjamas that were a little too big.

“Oh. My. God,” Asher said, his hand over his chest.

“What?”

“You … you’re so fucking cute, oh my God. I’m going to die.” His eyes creased as he laughed, stumbling and falling onto the bed as he tried to get changed. It was easier said than done when he could hardly keep himself upright, desperate to lie down next to the man he loved.

Lucas laughed as he watched Asher’s struggles to get ready for bed and he found the remote, squinting at the buttons as he tried to navigate the hotel’s television. It always seemed so much harder than at home, but he found his way to the selection of films and he dropped back onto the bed, ready to tuck under the covers.

On the bedside table, his phone buzzed. He had hardly touched it all day. With a sigh, he reached over and winced at the brightness of his screen but he snapped to attention when he saw that he had a missed call and a voicemail.

“No phones,” Asher said, pawing at his arm, but Lucas ignored him. He sat up straight, dialling his answerphone.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear as he listened intently to the message. Asher watched him with a faint frown, wondering what could have stolen his attention. Successfully changed, he kicked away his trousers and peeled off his socks, burrowing under the covers.

“Lucas,” he said, but Lucas just held up his hand for a couple of seconds. “Hey. What’s up? Is something wrong?”

The message came to an end. He put his phone back on the table and slowly, he turned around to face Asher. His cheeks had paled, his eyes wide as though he couldn’t think of a word to say.

“Lucas? Oh my God, what’s happened?” Asher sat up, suddenly sobering, but Lucas shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing bad.” Then he grinned and leant across the gap to kiss Asher, holding his face in his hands.

“Who was that? What was that message?” Asher asked. Lucas rested his hands on his husband’s neck, their faces hardly an inch apart.

“How would you feel about being a dad?” he murmured, only just loud enough for Asher to hear him.

“What?” He straightened, his eyes popping. “Wait, what? Seriously? Lucas? Oh my God, are we getting a child? Are we going to be parents?”

Lucas nodded and grinned, tears springing to his eyes as he held Asher, and a moment passed before he broke down, sinking into the mattress with the weight of the most incredible day. “We’re going to be parents. Oh my goodness. We’re getting a child.”

“Holy fuck. Oh my God. Oh my God. You’re sure?” He clapped his hand over his mouth, emotion rushing through him when Lucas nodded. “Holy shit. Best day of my life, doubled.” He laughed abruptly, wrapping Lucas in a tight hug. “We’re going to be dads.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” Lucas whispered, the words taking his breath away before Asher stole it with a kiss.

“No,” he said. “You’re going to be a daddy.”

+ – + – +

the one we’ve all been waiting for! as of a couple of weeks ago, this was supposed to be the final chapter but i brought the total up to forty. only three more to go now! hard to believe, but i’m so thrilled with how this book has gone. thank you guys!

confession time: i left my planning book in england and i can’t remember lucas’s middle name, if i ever gave him one. i’m sure i did as his sisters have them … oops.