Ten minutes later, we stood in the small hospital chapel.
It wasn’t elegant. No decorations, barely any guests. Mrs. Patterson handed Anna the white bouquet.
My mother sat at the front in a wheelchair.
As Anna walked toward me, I no longer saw hospital walls. I saw the woman who loved me enough to face my deepest fears for me.
My mother signed the marriage certificate as our witness. Her hand shook, but her name was steady.
When I spoke my vows, I meant every word.
We walked out of that chapel as husband and wife. My mother was smiling, Anna was glowing, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like the abandoned child from the orphanage.
I didn’t feel like a mistake.
I felt chosen.
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