Six weeks after Bastien and I arrived home from Bali, was the day of our wedding. Gay marriage was not condoned in the Jewish religion, but Izzy had a friend who was a struck off rabbi, and he’d agreed to perform a little ceremony under a chuppah, after the registry office. I wasn’t privy as to his fall from grace, but Adam had disclosed that the rabbi was a sub at Izzy’s club. I suppose one of his congregants discovered their pious leader was calling out to God in an entirely illicit manner, unbecoming of a holy man. Once that vision had taken root, it was the only thing I could think of every time we met with him. Chained and restrained while reciting his prayers in Hebrew. It was a little disconcerting to say the least. Especially as he was an orthodox guy; long beard, black hat and all. The hypocrisy was off the scale; not only was the entire proceeding redundant but it cost me two fucking grand to have him there. Ultimately, I knew it would make my parents happy to see us blessed in the traditional manner, which was the only reason I’d agreed to go along with such a fiasco.

Bastien and I had spent a phenomenal year abroad. We’d visited exotic places and experienced amazing things. We’d met beautiful people along the way and made friends from all around this crazy world of ours. It was cathartic and precisely what we needed before settling down. We were still in my apartment while the new house we had found was being re-modelled and decorated. I’d decided to keep the flat and rent it out for the time being.

I had met with several fellow brokers since I’d been home but had decided to stay on my own because I wanted the freedom to pick and choose who I worked for with probably more caution than a partner would tolerate. Davey still had a few months to go with Jason, then he promised to come back and work for me. We were both excited to create something new. In the meantime, I was networking and spending time managing our renovation project.

Bastien was busy with Myer. He was a natural and had even surprised me by making our wedding suits. The old man had taken him under his wing willingly, treating Bastien much the same as his several grandchildren. Myer had hinted that none of his children or grandchildren were interested in taking over his tailoring services when he retired, which meant he was pretty much grooming Bastien for the role. It was plainly evident that my husband-to-be relished being indulged by Myer, who he worshipped and adored. It made me unbelievably happy and grateful to see him so enthused and relaxed.

So here I stood, under the white silk chuppah canopy, with soft music playing in the background. My heart was thumping in my chest and I felt giddy with excitement. I had convinced myself I was doing this for my parents, but if I was honest, I couldn’t wait to see Bas walk down the aisle towards me. We were inside a top London hotel in their sprauntzy ballroom. My mother had the time of her life organising the entire do and I was relieved to note there was not one rainbow or unicorn in sight. It was a classy affair; not so different to my sister’s wedding.

The music changed. A wedding singer sang a familiar traditional Jewish song in Hebrew rendering the guests still and silent. Everyone knew it was time for the proceedings to begin. My parents were under the chuppah with me, and Bas had chosen Adam and Angel to stand for him. Myer was to give him away. Izzy stood by my side as best man, plus we’d asked Jason, Davey and the Twins to be ushers. I felt blessed to have so many wonderful people around me.

Izzy nudged me. I turned to him to see him tip his chin to the far side of the room. The door opened to reveal my groom. He held a small bouquet of white roses in one hand with the other threaded though Myer’s crooked arm. I held my breath as he made his entrance. Tears sprang to my eyes as he made his way towards me beside a beaming Myer. My Bastien looked stunning.

“Hey,” I mouthed to him. He smiled back at me. His beautiful amber eyes shone in his gorgeous face. His hair was styled, by Ron, into a trendy quiff and he’d never looked more handsome. We both wore black tuxedos, but where mine was more of a classic fit, Bastien’s was much tighter and had fancy accents. The lapels of the jacket and the front of his waistcoat were adorned with a brocade dotted with tiny diamantes that sparkled as they hit the light. His tie was more of a cravat style as opposed to my bow tie, and it was white to match his shirt. His trousers finished at his ankles and he wore patent Gucci loafers with no socks. He was quite simply breath taking. Bas was glowing with happiness, and I couldn’t wait to make him my husband.

We said our vows, exchanged rings, and received the blessings from the rabbi. I smashed a glass under my foot, as was the tradition for a Jewish groom, and cries of ‘mazal tov’ and ‘congratulations’ rang around the room. My parents kissed us both and promised to love and support us always, causing tears to sting my eyes once more. Bastien gripped my hand. He leaned his head on my shoulder and I kissed the side of his head. I noticed he’d worn a yarmulke which touched me deeply. His respect for my traditions ran deep and I suspected Myer had also been counselling him on the many quirks of Jewish life.

“Ladies and Gentlemen.” The rabbi’s booming voice startled people into silence. “Mr and Mr Roth are about to leave and take a few moments for themselves. Mr and Mrs Roth senior, would like you all to make your way to the reception hall for food and drink.”

I led my new husband to a small room behind the function suite. There was a chintzy love seat and a small table laid with champagne and canapes. We stood in the middle of the room each holding a crystal flute filled with bubbly, and toasted ourselves.

“Bastien Roth,” Bas whispered with a note of awe in his voice. “I like the sound of that.”

“It’s a sexy name befitting of its owner,” I teased. “But you know, I would never insist you take my surname.”

He looked at me with a serious expression. “It is a wonderful name that allows me to shed all of my past identity and start a new life as who I want to be. Your husband first of all.”

“I don’t want you to change, Bas,” I implored.

“Only to be a better person and more deserving of the name I have taken.” He took my hands in his. “Thank you, Tally, for giving me hope. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you do not regret it.”

I gasped. My chest felt tight and I sank to my knees before him. I buried my head in his lap. “It is I who should be thanking you, baby boy. You have saved me in so many ways. I’ve finally learnt to grow up and value the people in my life, because of you.” I nuzzled his groin. “I will forever be in your debt.”

Bastien pulled me back up to my feet. “How about we just enjoy our wedding and leave all the heavy stuff behind us for now. Your mother will give us hell for staying away too long.” He crooked his arm so that I could link mine through his, and as equals, we left the room to greet our guests and start the rest of our lives. Together.

The book ends on chapter number 18. In Hebrew, the number 18 stands for ‘chai’ which means life.

L’chaim to Tal and Bas – to life!