The wedding was held in the garden—your garden—the one where Dooshik knelt beside rose bushes just months ago, where he whispered his truth into the spring air and placed that lilac-stoned ring on your finger.

Now it was summer. Golden light filtered through the trees, the breeze warm and slow. The roses were in full bloom, matching your soft blush and the pale lilac ribbons that trailed from your bouquet.

You stood at the top of the garden steps in a gown made just for you—delicate, girlish, but regal in the way he always saw you. Your mother helped smooth the lace on your sleeves. She kissed your temple, eyes shining.

“You were always meant for him,” she whispered. “And he, for you.”

Then, she stepped aside.

The music began—strings, soft and slow—and the guests stood. But you only saw him.

Dooshik waited at the altar, hands clasped, eyes locked on you like you were his sunrise.

He looked unreal. A tailored black suit, collar undone just slightly in that boyish way you loved. His hair was pushed back, and he wore a small pin on his lapel—your favorite flower in silver.

You stepped toward him, each step quiet, your heart loud.

He didn’t smile wide. No, Dooshik looked reverent. Gentle. Like he was witnessing something holy. Like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to love you in front of the world now.

When you reached him, he took your hands. Big and warm and trembling slightly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

The officiant began to speak, but your mind only focused on him.

Then it was time for vows.

Dooshik looked at you, voice thick with emotion.

“You’ve been mine since the first time you looked at me like I was your whole world. When you were little, I protected you. When you were growing, I held back, waiting. And now that you’re here, I swear, I’ll never take one moment of you for granted again.”

Your eyes blurred.

“My love,” he added, “you are not just my girl. You are my peace. My promise. My forever.”

You said your vows with a trembling voice, your hands in his, your gaze soft and unwavering.

Then the kiss.

It was not rushed. Not fiery.

It was slow. Full. Like a secret kept for years, finally set free under the sun.

Your mother clapped first. The crowd followed.

But it was just you and Dooshik in that moment.

He leaned down, brushing your cheek.

“Run to Daddy if you don’t like it,” he whispered, with a soft grin. “I’m always here.”

You giggled against his lips.

“I don’t want to run from anything ever again.”

And with the lilac sky above, and roses all around, you both stepped into your forever. Together.