I loved weddings. Had ever since I was four years old and my Aunt Cherise got married. I was the ring bearer, and I’d taken my duty very seriously. Aunt Cherise had been the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen, the flowers made everything seem magical, and I knew, right then and there, that I’d wanted to be in her place.
Not wearing a dress—I wasn’t the sort of man who could rock a ball gown—but holding pretty flowers and marrying the man of my dreams. My mother, God rest her, had told me later that I’d gushed about the wedding for weeks afterward, and that I told her I was going to make weddings happen when I grew up. And she didn’t even bat an eye when I told her I wanted to marry a man.
“I’ll be honored to walk you down the aisle someday, West.” She kissed my forehead and handed me my f
