I knew we were going to have sex. That’s what you did on your wedding night. But that wasn’t what was important. The important thing was that we, Andy and I, were married; we were one. I thought back to last year after the accident, when I couldn’t perform sexually. It hadn’t changed one thing, not one single thing. He had loved me and I had loved him. The love was there without the sex. I knew that as the years went by sex would become less prominent in our lives. He was fifteen years my junior but I trusted that when the time came for him to understand, he would. I had no fear of what was to come. I knew that he loved me, that he would never leave me and that as age took its toll, he would be there. Tears welled up and rolled down my cheeks.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”
God, you did this for me: moonlight, the ocean, tuxedos. Wedding rings. Jerry Falwell, eat your heart out.