The next few months flew by as Freen and Becky began planning their wedding. What started as an intimate celebration quickly grew into something more extravagant, thanks to the enthusiasm of their friends and family. Freen’s parents insisted on hosting a grand reception at their estate, while Becky’s parents, eager to make amends, offered to handle the catering and floral arrangements.
Jisoo, of course, was the centerpiece of their plans. Freen and Becky agreed she would walk—or rather, toddle—down the aisle as their flower girl. Becky couldn’t stop imagining their baby waddling in a tiny white dress, scattering petals.
---
One sunny afternoon, Becky sat at the dining table, reviewing invitation designs with Nam and Mind while Freen, Faye, and Heng played with Jisoo in the living room.
“Don’t you think this gold trim is too much?” Becky asked, holding up one of the cards.
“Too much? It’s perfect!” Nam countered, grinning. “It screams elegance. Just like you, Becky.”
Becky rolled her eyes, laughing. “Fine, but I’m not sure about the font.”
“You’re overthinking,” Mind said. “It’s a wedding, not a corporate meeting. Besides, knowing Freen, she’s just going to say yes to whatever makes you happy.”
“That’s true,” Becky admitted, smiling softly.
From the living room, a loud laugh erupted as Jisoo squealed in delight. Becky turned to see Freen tossing their daughter into the air, catching her safely as the toddler giggled uncontrollably. Her heart swelled at the sight.
“She’s so good with Jisoo,” Nam remarked, following Becky’s gaze.
“She really is,” Becky said. “It’s hard to believe this is the same Freen from before. She’s changed so much.”
“And it’s because of you,” Mind added. “You gave her a reason to grow up, Becky.”
Becky’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t deny it.
---
As the wedding day drew closer, Freen grew more nervous. Not about marrying Becky—she was certain of that—but about making sure everything was perfect. She wanted this day to be unforgettable, not just for them, but for their families and, one day, for Jisoo to look back on and smile.
The night before the wedding, Freen found herself pacing in their bedroom. Becky watched from the bed, amused.
“Bb, what’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the book she was reading.
“I just… I want tomorrow to be perfect,” Freen admitted, running a hand through her hair.
Becky stood, walking over to her. She placed a hand on Freen’s cheek, forcing the older woman to look at her.
“It doesn’t have to be perfect,” Becky said softly. “It just has to be us. That’s all I need, Freen—you, me, and Jisoo. Everything else is just extra.”
Freen sighed, leaning into Becky’s touch. “How do you always know what to say?”
“Because I know you,” Becky replied, smiling. “Now, stop worrying and get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow.”
---
The morning of the wedding was a whirlwind of activity. Freen and Becky got ready in separate rooms, each surrounded by their closest friends.
“You look stunning,” Jane said as she adjusted Becky’s veil.
"I couldn't agree more," the girl's wife, Janella, seconded.
Becky turned to the mirror, her breath catching. The white lace gown fit her perfectly, and the delicate floral details matched the garden theme of their wedding. She looked every bit the bride she’d dreamed of being.
“Jisoo’s going to upstage me,” Becky joked, wiping away a tear.
“Impossible,” Nam said, stepping in. “You’re glowing, Becky.”
"Freen will drool when she sees you, for sure!" Mind added, making everyone in the room erupt in laughter.
---
At the altar, Freen waited nervously, dressed in a sleek white suit that complemented Becky’s gown. Her hands trembled slightly, but the sight of Jisoo waddling down the aisle with a basket of petals immediately calmed her nerves. The guests cooed and clapped as the toddler stopped halfway, staring at the crowd before Freen’s mother gently guided her forward.
And then, Freen saw Becky.
Time seemed to slow as Becky walked down the aisle, her arm linked with her father’s. Freen’s heart swelled with love, her eyes filling with tears. Becky was breathtaking, and in that moment, Freen knew she was the luckiest woman alive.
When Becky reached her, they exchanged a smile that spoke volumes.
“You’re beautiful,” Freen whispered as they joined hands.
“So are you,” Becky replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
The ceremony was intimate and heartfelt, filled with laughter and tears. As they exchanged vows, both women couldn’t help but glance at Jisoo, who was happily sitting on Mrs. Chankimha’s lap, clapping along with the guests.
“Let me start this off by saying, I was a jerk, an asshole. My life had no direction, and even before, I knew that you were the best thing in my life, that's why I cherished you so much. To me, you were a pure soul that I had to protect. But I also believed that I shouldn't come too close so I won't taint you. I can't believe that because of that, I almost lost you forever. I'm so glad I found you again or that you came back to us, rather. I am so lucky to have found you again. I'm so blessed that you decided to give us another shot, because I honestly couldn't imagine a life without you. I promise to love you, honor you, and stand by you, no matter what life throws at us,” Freen said, her voice steady but full of emotion. “I have done a lot of stupid things to you that I am not proud of, but this time, I'll make everything right. You are my home, Becky, and I’ll spend every day proving it to you and making up for my mistakes.”
“And I promise to love you, to trust you, and to share my life with you,” Becky said, her eyes glistening. “You’ve given me everything I can ever wish for, Freen, your love, our daughter, and a happy life, and I’ll cherish that forever.”
When the officiant pronounced them married, Freen pulled Becky into a deep kiss, the sound of applause and cheers echoing around them.
As they turned to face their guests, Jisoo toddled over to them, arms raised. Freen scooped her up, holding her close as Becky wrapped an arm around them both.
They were a family—a true, united family—and their happily ever after had just begun.
---
The end.
