I knock softly on the door, opening it just a small bit without peeking inside. “Darling?” I call out gently. “I’m not coming in, don’t worry. I just wanted to come talk to you. How are you feeling?”

I’m silent, practically holding my breath as I wait for your response. I look over at your Maid of Honor, whose watch worriedly, and I give her a reassuring smile before waving her off. It’s probably best if I just talk to you alone for a moment.

8 years ago we met.

2 years ago we got engaged.

Today we’re finally getting married.

It’s been a very long journey, but I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. You’ve been with me through some of the hardest times of my life, and vice versa. You even packed up your things and traveled around on tour with me for two whole years. I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve someone so kind, loving, caring, and supportive, but I’m eternally grateful for it.

I proposed to you after Love on Tour ended, while we were in Italy just relaxing and celebrating. It made perfect sense and I couldn’t imagine a better time.

After two long years of planning and trying to figure out a date between our hectic schedules, it was here. Today. August 29th of 2025.

We booked a beautiful venue called Syon Park in Brentford, just outside of London. There’s violinists, gorgeous flowers, timeless architecture, everything is just perfect.

To be fair, I would’ve married you in our living room while wearing sweatpants and still called it perfect. I don’t care what the wedding looks like, as long as you’re my bride.

But just as I was about to head out of the Groom’s suite for the ceremony starting in less than 30 minutes, your Maid of Honor and best friend showed up.

You were panicking.

Not in a runaway bride way, no. You just get anxious before big events. You’ve always been like this, and honestly, I was mentally prepared for it coming into today.

Although it’s still slightly nerve racking to have someone tell you that your soon-to-be wife is freaking out right before the ceremony starts.

So now I’m outside the door of the Bridal suite, my back against the wood as I speak through the small gap. I just need to calm you down a little, exactly like I know how.

Without seeing your dress, of course.

I’ve waited 8 years for this, I can wait another 30 minutes.

“Darling?” I say again when I don’t hear a response. “Can you hear me, my love?”