Their vows were simple. Ethan promised to tell the truth even when fear tempted him to hide behind silence, to give Victoria room to pursue the work she loved, and to build a home in which nobody had to earn affection by being useful. Victoria promised not to treat their lives as a problem to manage, to show up when she said she would, and to listen when she didn't understand what Ethan or Lily needed. Both promised to keep learning, even when the lessons were inconvenient.
When the officiant pronounced them married, Lily rushed forward before anyone could stop her and wrapped both of them in a fierce hug. Laughter rose from the guests, followed by applause. Ethan picked her up with one arm while Victoria put an arm around them both. For a moment he closed his eyes and let himself feel the happiness without searching for a reason it couldn't be trusted.
At the reception, Richard found Ethan near the refreshments and held out a hand. "I promised Victoria I wouldn't make another speech about how right I was," he said.
"Wise decision."
"I do have one thing to say." Richard shook his hand. "Thank you for making room in your life for my daughter. I don't think she knew how much she wanted a home until she found one where she could be herself."
Ethan glanced across the square at Victoria dancing with Lily. "She made room for us too. That's the part that matters."
The evening continued with food, music, and the cheerful disorder of a town celebration. June danced with Walter, who claimed afterward that his injured knee had never felt better. Mara slipped away from a corporate call and turned off her phone. Richard allowed Lily to teach him a complicated series of dance steps, making himself ridiculous with an enthusiasm nobody had expected from him.
Long after the guests began leaving, Ethan and Victoria stood beneath the lights and watched their daughter chase the last few floating petals around the square. Victoria rested against his shoulder. "Do you remember what I said the first time I met you?"
"Unfortunately, I'll probably remember it until I'm ninety."
"My father said you needed a wife," she repeated, laughing softly.
"And I told you I needed time with my daughter and a working tractor."
"Did you get either of those things?"
He looked toward Lily, who had finally stopped running and was talking animatedly to Richard. He thought of all the mornings when he was still tired, all the bills that still had to be paid, and all the ordinary work waiting at the farm. Their life had not become effortless. The difference was that he was no longer living every day as though happiness were an interruption he couldn't afford.
"I got more time," he said. "The tractor still argues with me."
Victoria laughed. "Some things are beyond even my influence."