Epilogue

Ethan

 

A year later. Wedding day.

 

A lot can happen in a year. A year ago today, I was sitting in this very chapel watching two of my friends and fellow Navy SEALs tie the knot. On that day I realized how far the country had come and how open society had become about men like me. Gay men who serve their country. On that day, as I watched them exchange their vows, kiss, and go off to their honeymoon, I had decided it was my turn…for me to come out.

I’d decided to be brave and proud, and announce my sexual orientation at their reception. Little did I know at the time, but it would put me on a road forward that I could never imagine. It would lead me to finding my partner and soulmate...the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And here I am today standing at the altar, waiting for that man…my groom.

I’ve been waiting for him the whole morning, and now I’m just about to see him and what he’s chosen to wear for me today. Me, I’ve chosen to wear a “wedding” version of my Navy Captain’s suit. I’m retired now, but today I proudly wear my medals of honor and distinction, along with the one I’m about to be the most proud of. My wedding ring.

In the pew in front of me, I see all of my friends gathered to support us. No family, no mom or dad. That’s ok though — if they were alive, they still wouldn’t have approved. They would have refused to come, even if they weren’t buried six feet under.

But I decide to turn my thoughts away from that. They don’t need to steal the happiest day of my life from me, not after all I’ve been through. Instead, I turn my attention to the soft music beginning to play.

No pipe organs, but a soothing, ethereal and magical sound. It’s something Frederick was keen on having, since he didn’t want this wedding to be too traditional. And instead of the wedding march, he wanted a sappy love song from one of his favorite female pop artists. It’s called “1000 years,” or something to that effect.

No sooner than that thought arrives, the song begins. The opening notes are enough to tear me up, even more than that is Frederick is about to walk through the chapel doors. I know I’m about to see my soon-to-be husband for the first time in two days. We haven’t seen each other since our two (but separate) bachelor parties.

As the music picks up a bit and the female artist begins to sing in her soft, longing voice, the doors open and Frederick walks into the room. His sister Cameron is walking him down the aisle. An interesting role reversal, but not surprising since she’s been like a mother to him. She and Frederick are slightly teared up, but both are beaming with joy.

Frederick is wearing a beautiful fuchsia suit with a diamond-white tie that he chose himself. He’s wearing a matching set of shoes... fuchsia with bright silky socks. I smile, knowing that it’s his cute, oddball way of paying semi-homage to one of his heroes, Oscar Wilde.

Watching him near the altar, the song has kicked into full swing by now and the pop artist is belting out lines about loving someone for 1000 years— and then loving them for 1000 more. Everybody begins crying, especially when Frederick starts singing it to me on his way up.

Even the officiate of our wedding — a snazzy priest who wears a fedora along with his robe — even he’s having to get his emotions under control, to focus on the bible he’s holding.

Frederick is now standing on stage with me and positions himself to face me. He’s holding my hand all the while still singing to me, although he’s having a little more trouble now. The words are catching in his throat, and all he can do is mouth them.

Thankfully the song ends before I break down completely. But where the song once was is now the unmistakable sound of people crying. One of Frederick’s friends — a guy I don’t think actually serves in the Navy — shouts out.

“We love you, Freddie!” He pauses. “And you, Ethan!” Before this friend can get any more flamboyant, his friends shush him up.

After the ensuing pocket of silence, the officiate— I don’t think he likes being called “Reverend” steps into his place at the front of the altar. A stage on which we’re now gathered, like the rest of the chapel, has been decorated in white silk, feathers and red roses.

“Dearly beloved, and fashionably fabulous friends and family, we are gathered here today” — more celebrating from Frederick’s side of the room, and some from mine — “to watch these two gentlemen in love be brought together in unity. To be married in the eyes of their community, and their loving, tolerant God.” He clears his throat, opening his book.

“I’m not going to read anything much from here, but I will read a passage about love and commitment. About finding love through trials and tribulations, and then I’m going to shut up and let these men say their vows.” He turns to us slightly.

“Don’t think I can’t see how the two of you are looking at each other,” he says playfully, while raising his eyebrows at us.  Then he softly whispers, “Wait until after the reception.” Then he turns back around.

I chuckle, realizing that he’s probably read my mind as well as Frederick’s. Without even meaning to, I’ve already started thinking about places to go with him after this to get some alone time. Even now, I’m thinking about where I could bend him over. Where I could get a taste of him, even if it is between glasses of champagne and slices of wedding cake.

Frederick must be feeling the same way too, because, in place of his tears, he begins to get hot. Almost feverish looking. It’s something that only happens when he’s starting to let his mind wander into the sexy, or explicit realm. He smiles at me, but only as innocently as a devil can. It’s more mischievous than anything, but I love it.

And as it is, we’re barely listening to what the “Reverend” has decided to read from his bible about love and commitment, trials and tribulations. Triumph in love and all that. We don’t need to listen. As I look into his eyes — his adoring face — I know we’ve already been through all of that. We already know what love is. And I know that I would do anything for him. Even if it meant going to court. Even if it meant being put on trial, and possibly thrown away for the rest of my life. If it meant loving and protecting him, I would do it all over again.

I squeeze his hands, seeing that his sister has reappeared with the wedding rings. They’re sitting neatly on a delicate looking little pillow. Something with martini glasses, bows eyes and monocles, embroidered and intertwined with alternating threads of gold and silver. In the center, our rings rest, tied to the pillow by sparkly black threads. She lets us look but not touch.

Vows have to come first.

And that’s exactly what finally happens. After he finishes whatever passage he’s decided to read, from whatever section of the book, he turns to us and says.

“Do you two have your vows ready?”

We say we do.

“Which of you would like to go first?”

Used to being “first” at most things, I almost volunteer myself. But then something surprising happens. Frederick actually speaks over me announcing.

“I will.”

The Reverend gives him the space to do so, stepping quietly behind us, listening and observing.

Frederick begins speaking, but as he does, I notice one thing is very clear: he’s no longer shy nor quiet like he was when I first met him. He’s also no longer looking beat up or harassed. Just calm and collected, strong and noble.

“Ethan,” he says, measuring his words out, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “I’ve loved you for a long time. Even when I didn’t know if you and I were on the same team, or if I just wanted you to be, I knew that I loved you. I knew that I wanted and needed to be with you. Unlike everyone else in my life, something was calling me to you. And after what we’ve been through together, I know what that is now. You were reaching to me because you had the ability to heal me. Because you were the one person who could make me into the man who stands before you today.”

His voice and hands shake even though he has no notes and nothing but me to hold. That’s okay, though. That’s just the way I want it.

“I’m able to be proud and comfortable with myself because of you. I’m able to replace all of my pain and suffering, with love and joy because of you, Ethan. Because you’ve decided to love me back, even with my past, with my tattered edges.” He smiles a little sadly.

“Even with wrongfully accusing you, you’ve decided to love me anyway. Stand by me even when everyone else abandoned me. You had every reason in the world to shun me, and I was fully expecting to live the rest of my life without the man I loved. I’m so blessed to be able to stand in front of you today. To say these words to you.”

He wipes at his eyes, which have begun to leak like open faucets again. His tears turn the color of his bright eyes. Bewitching eyes.

“For a while, I was afraid I might never get to see you. That I might not ever be able to ask you to spend the rest of my life with me. But now I do. I love you, Ethan. I always will. No matter how many years we do or don’t have together, I’m going to cherish and savor them, knowing that we were meant to be together. Destined to be together, even though decades separate us.” He sucks in a breath, some snot and tears, but it’s all adorable.

“Because of this, I believe our love is truly timeless and I know it will continue on, even when you are assigned your heavenly mission.” He chokes up here, and I do too. I don’t want to think about that mission just yet.

“I’m so happy to be able to call myself your husband today and every day forward.” He falls silent, bows his head and gestures to me.

I take a moment to center myself and organize my thoughts. My emotions, along with everyone else’s is in the room, are high— poignant and sentimental. I had the perfect set of vows I wanted to say to him, but now I barely remember any of them. So for a minute I’m frustrated, fighting to get back some of my good ideas— my eloquent observations that I just decide I’m now going to have to ad-lib.

“Freddie,” I say, trying to relax and calm myself by calling him his pet name, “Freddie, my Teddy, you’re always right. Even today, on our wedding day, you’re right. You texted me saying ‘you should really write down your thoughts, you might forget them!’ And here I have. I had all these wonderful things I wanted to say, an eloquent speech I prepared to make in front of you, but now I’m speechless. I can’t think of how to put my love for you into words.”

I fall silent again, deciding to allow my feelings to take the lead and let them speak for themselves, instead of relying on my head. I tap into the warmth in my heart. How much it needs and desires him, not just sexually, but spiritually. Mentally and physically. When I meet his eyes again, I now have tears of my own.

“Maybe there will be no words that I can ever use to describe what I feel for you, Freddie. ‘Love’ seems like a paltry, cheap thing — shallow and brittle — compared to my true feelings. But we say it anyway, as if it can ever sum up the true depth of that feeling. I don’t just love you, Freddie, I adore you. I worship you.” I swallow, unable to imagine rejecting him now. Pushing him away the way I did when we first met.

“When I said I didn’t imagine myself with a man like you, I was a fool. I was inexperienced, but you have taught me that love has no age limit. That it may not make sense. But, you’ve taught me it does.” I smile. “You’ve also led me to the man I was meant to be. Before you, I had never been kissed by another man, or kissed one.” I blush deeply, watching his eyes widen with surprise and desire.

“Not to mention everything else, of every other pleasure you’ve introduced me to since then.” Around the room, there are “ooh’s” to both of these revelations, but I don’t mind. I’ve always enjoyed a little sensationalism if I’m the one who’s at the center and control of it.

“I look forward to the life I get to live with you from today forward, Freddie. One filled with excitement and thrill. Joy and fearless radical love and commitment.” I take a breath, settling some of the thoughts that have started to swirl along with my head.

“I’m the luckiest man alive to be standing here with you today, as your husband and your best friend. When I was your age, this wouldn’t have been possible, and I only hope that we live to see more progress for our community. I hope that our marriage can be a symbol of hope and comfort — courage — for those struggling the way we both have struggled before finding each other.”

I take his hands in mine, having trouble not kissing him right then and there.

“I’ll always love you Frederick. And it’s my honor to accompany you on this journey of you and I together, our future together. Forever.”

I fall silent after this, now feeling complete. Some of the audience has started to say things like, “so beautiful!” and “super sweet!” but it’s what the Reverend has to say next that I’m most interested in.

“I’m not even going to bother asking if there is any shmuck out there who thinks these two adorable boys shouldn’t be married,” he says, closing his bible, and tossing it unceremoniously behind him.

“Get to kissing you two, but save the rest of your plans for later — or the church bathroom.” Laughter engulfs the room. “I don’t care and neither does God.”

With that, Frederick jumps into my arms, wraps his legs around me and kisses the living daylights out of me. And I’m not joking. The force of his kiss, how fast it sucks out air from my lungs, leaves me dizzy... seeing warm sparkly dots at the edge of my vision. But it’s a wonderful kind of breathless. I’ve never been in so much ecstasy from not being able to breathe. I kiss him back, pouring all the love I momentarily fear I wasn’t able to get into my vows, into him.

For what seems like a moment forever captured in time, we remain this way.

That is until Frederick’s sister reminds us that we still haven’t put on our rings.

Only then do we separate, laugh and exchange rings.

To this, the Reverend just rolls his eyes.

“See? I told you these guys had their minds on other things.” He smiles. “They’re already on their honeymoon as far as I’m concerned.”

So we are, I think, remembering that we’re only going to be able to stay at the reception for an hour. Any longer than that, and we will miss our flight. The only thing I want more than a bite of cake, is more than a few bites of Frederick.

We kiss again, putting the rings on each other as we do.

The Reverend, unceremoniously, and rather unnecessarily says.

“I now pronounce you happily wedded. I now present to you Frederick Patterson  and Ethan Gibson, everybody!”

Cheers go up but I don’t really care. I’m too busy nearly kissing Frederick to the floor of the stage, just in front of the altar.

~

The reception is everything Frederick and I had dreamed about for years. White doves are being released as we walk out together from the Chapel, and towards the church ground that’s been transformed into a reception area. White streamers everywhere. Lace, satin and red roses... white too, along with some yellows and purples.

We’ve even ordered a trendy band to play for us hits from the 80s and 90s. They’ve come dressed in line with the decade of the music, even though that was more than 20 years ago. The band plays quietly while people congratulate us and do the usual reception antics— making jokes, giving us marital advice along with gifts. As soon as all of this is done, the band kicks it up a notch, playing music to dance by.

But not before the first dance, which is slow and intended for the groom and groom— my Frederick and I. Frederick begins to tear up as we swoon to the soft beat. They are tears of joy and elation. Both of us are smiling as we stare into each other’s eyes for the entire duration of the song. I don’t think we could take our eyes off each other if we wanted to. After the song ends, the crowd cheers.

Other couples then join us on the floor and the festive music picks up. On the floor is Brad and Lance who take a place next to us. 

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Brad says to Frederick. “Good for you for being able to take up the vacancy left by Stern.” He salutes him. “You’ll be good for those officers.” I beam with pride and kiss Frederick on his forehead.

“Yes,” I say, “Captain Patterson has a nice ring to it.” I chuckle at the way he’s blushing.

“Congratulations on your retirement, and with good standing and honors,” says Lance, beginning to cuddle into Brad and sway to the music. Then without thinking, I do the same and bring Frederick closer to me.

 “Thank you,” I murmur, making eye contact with Brad. “And to think this all started by me attending your wedding last year.”

“Unbelievable, right?” Brad says.

I notice Riley, who’s taken a dancing space on our other side with Jensen.

“What a difference a year and a little love can make,” muses Jensen, while Riley rests her chin on his shoulder in various angles.

I nod, noticing that Harlow and his wife Whitney have taken up a dancing spot behind us. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time with either of them. But after the experiences both Frederick and I had in the Navy— in fighting people in power, who were abusing that power— I have a feeling that Freddie might want to get involved in that kind of work more formally. We could give talks on our experiences. It sounds great, but right now I’m just ready to be in my own little world with Frederick.

It’s taken long enough to get here and now all I want to do is savor it. Freeze it in my memory forever.

So we continue to dance, waltz and sway into each other’s hearts and souls. It doesn’t take long, but soon we’re moving as one...in a kind of trance-like state…without talking, just being with each other. With the beats of our hearts and the caress of one another’s breath. After what seems like endless waltzing eternity, Frederick does break the silence...the meditation I’ve had going on with him. But all he says is,

“I want a baby, Ethan.”

Initially, I don’t think I’ve heard him right. I think he said something like, “I want some cake with you” or something like that, so I say to him.

“What?”

Frederick doesn’t move his head from its position on my shoulder. The place that’s cuddled under my chin.

“I want a baby,” he says again. This time he doesn’t pause. He continues with, “I want us to look for a surrogate. I want to have a baby with you.” He sighs. “I know you might not want to actually do the deed with the surrogate, but I’d really like to have a little bundle who looks like you. Who has your beautiful smile, deliciously sweet nose, and ridiculously striking eyes, my hubby.”

I remain silent for a moment. A baby is something I had never thought much about. I knew I wasn’t into women, not to mention I wasn’t really the type to raise a child with the demands of my career. But now that I’m retired… it might not be so bad.

“I don’t mind a baby, Freddie. I think that would be wonderful.” I kiss him on the lips as he raises his head to mine. “Besides, my mother always said I would make beautiful babies. I’m kinda curious to see whether she’s right.”

Frederick laughs, and calls me a dummy. A geek, but I don’t mind. I just kiss him again. Harder this time and more deeply.

When our lips part I say, “But I really don’t mind. And it really isn’t just out of curiosity, I really don’t mind having a little one. Giving you a piece of myself.” 

“Besides, I have too much free time these days. I need a little one to keep me busy, keep me young. They say if you don’t, retirement will kill you.” I laugh, though I know it’s not really in the best taste. “I’ll be happy to look into the process and our options after our honeymoon, sweetheart.” I then kiss his forehead while stroking his hair. “What do you say we get out of here now? Go for a ride across an ocean?”

With this, I lead him off the dance floor and onto the pathway leading out of the church grounds, and toward the parking lot, where I know our ride is waiting for us. We haven’t had any wedding cake, but I don’t mind. I’ve already asked Riley to take it home and freeze it for us so we can have it later.

When people ask us where we’re going to, it’s the same answer. “Airport. Honeymoon.”

Everyone seems happy to let us go, though George and Wisely seem overly concerned that the cake hasn’t been cut or eaten by us. It’s as if they believe this is super bad luck for newlyweds, but I don’t have the time or appetite for anything else but my husband.

Frederick seems to agree, as he’s the one who starts hustling me out of the grounds and toward the parking lot to the limo he spots with “Just Married” written across the back window.

The driver climbs out of the car at the moment he sees us running, hand in hand toward the vehicle. He opens a door for us, and we pile in. We don’t bother to buckle up but instead go right for the champagne. Frederick finds little cupcake “pops” in a cooler. Now we’re ready— the driver starts up and heads for the airport.

For the rest of the ride I think about getting on the plane and to our destination — a destination I hope is the perfect place for our honeymoon. One that will be a paradise of sorts and create for us lasting, unforgettable memories. But any place on earth will be a paradise as long as I’m with the love of my life. As long as I’m with him, any place will be heaven.

That much I know.

THE END

 

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Can’t get enough Ethan and Frederick?

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