The two stood facing each other, one on each side of the priest.
The priest stood between them and opened a yellowed, old scripture. He had specially learned Chinese for this wedding.
He didn't know the couple's story, didn't know why they had no guests, no family or friends—just each other and a child.
He only knew that the man had found him a few days ago and said in fluent English, "We need a wedding. No one else, just God and ourselves."
He had agreed.
Then he had opened his Chinese textbook and, syllable by syllable, clumsily but earnestly committed everything he needed to say at the wedding to memory.
Now, he took a deep breath, his aged voice echoing slowly under the church's vaulted ceiling.
"Mr. Zane Patterson, are you willing to give the rest of your life to Ms. Annelise Valentine?
