“I know you were,” she whispered.
I took her hands in mine.
“Thank you, Anna, for being my courage. For giving me this chance to learn the truth.
I’m sorry you felt you had to do it like this, but if you’re still willing, let’s go and get married.”
She smiled. ***
Ten minutes later, we were in the small hospital chapel.
It wasn’t fancy.
There were no decorations, and hardly any guests. Mrs. Patterson, the lady I met earlier, handed Anna the white bouquet.
My mother was in a wheelchair parked right at the front.
When Anna started walking toward me, I didn’t see the hospital walls anymore. I saw the person who loved me enough to face my biggest demons for me.
My mother signed the marriage certificate as our witness. Her hand was shaky, but she wrote her name clearly.
When I said my vows, I meant every single syllable.
We walked out of that chapel as husband and wife. My mother was smiling, Anna was beaming, and for the first time in my entire life, I didn’t feel like the kid who was left behind at the orphanage. I didn’t feel like a mistake or a burden.
I felt chosen.
If you could give one piece of advice to anyone in this story, what would it be? Let’s talk about it in the Facebook comments.
