We’re at an orchard, in Niagara on the Lake. It was Gemma’s idea to have our renewal vows ceremony here. We’re on the Canadian side, near the border. It’s the weekend of Canadian Thanksgiving. “The leaves will be turning, there will be so much beautiful color and we have so much to be thankful for!” As always, she was cheesy without even trying.

All around us, it is indeed a symphony of green, red, orange, yellow and gold.

The “wedding” colors match our natural surroundings. Not to brag, but my wife is a kickass designer.

All of our relatives are here, close friends and colleagues, old family friends—including Andrew, his parents and Andrew’s girlfriend. Both my Mom and my Dad are here. As a couple. Who are dating. So. That’s happening. The only person happier that we’re doing this in Canada than my Dad and my grandmother—is Grandma Kelly (I mean Gemma, not her actual Nana Kelly, who is also here).

That day in Ventura, after the first 5K we ran in together, we eventually took a shower in that hotel and that’s when she told me she thought it could be good for her career, if she eventually had dual citizenship as well. At first I thought she was joking. She wasn’t.

“I mean, say Martin Scorcese decides to do a sequel to The Departed and they shoot it in Toronto, for budget reasons and tax breaks.”

“Sure. And what would that be called?” I poured shower gel onto my hands and then let my hands go wherever they wanted to, all over my wife’s gorgeous wet totally naked body.

“Still Departed After All These Years, Eh? And you know how American productions in Canada get more tax breaks if they hire Canadians? Say it comes down to me and some American dude with the same amount of experience as me.”

“But he’d have less talent, obviously.”

She poured a generous amount of shower gel onto her hand and put her hand exactly where I was hoping she would.

“Yeah, so that guy’s got a penis. Big deal, but what do I have that’s worth more than that?”

“My penis.”

“Which is a huge deal. But also—Canadian citizenship.”

I was no longer capable of participating in the conversation with words, so I kissed her. I would marry her in every country on Earth if she wanted me to.

When we got back to L.A., we stopped by Chloe and Ethan’s to pick up Gemma’s stuff to take back to our house. We ceremoniously burned the unfiled divorce documents in the fireplace, while she rearranged candles, plants and stacks of books on the mantle.

We mutually decided to let people know we were married by changing our relationship statuses on Facebook, and posting pictures of our Santa Barbara courthouse ceremony, without explaining when we got married. It just looked like we’d eloped.

We came up with the idea while we were naked, so it wasn’t completely thought-through. When people contacted us privately, we told them we’d be inviting them to a destination wedding in the near future. We were picky about who we told the whole story to, but it felt really good to tell it. For those we didn’t tell the whole story to—it wasn’t exactly a lie, we just left out the details.

That was Gemma & Theo 4.0.

Today, we update to Gemma & Theo 5.0. This new version has bug fixes, as well as adding new features and improvements that make us faster, more reliable, and somehow—more in love than ever.

I remember telling myself at our “sham” ceremony that I’d let myself cry at my real wedding. I didn’t expect that I actually would, but when the string quartet starts playing an instrumental version of Thank You by Dido, and I see Gemma, in her beautiful wedding gown, arm in arm with her Dad, warm liquid starts to leak from the inner corners of my eyes. Ethan, my best man, nudges me with his elbow and winks, whispering, “I cried at my wedding too, bro. It’s what real men do.”

She’s wearing what I’m told is called a “garland” on the crown of her head. I’m thankful for Gemma Kelly-Walker every day, but when she wears a gown and pretty little flowers in her hair, I’m thankful for everyone and everything that put us on our weird path to this day.

I wouldn’t change a thing, because now I know that the possibilities for renewal in our relationship are endless.

The minister says a few nice words, before letting us get to our vows. We had decided early on that there would be more party than ceremony today.

We had already said so many things to each other over the years, and at our marriage ceremony in Santa Barbara.  Things that were true, things that were almost true, things that we didn't realize were true.  This time, I just want to say as much as I can in as few words as possible, because this time--we both know this is real.  "You're the love of my life," I say.  "I'm all yours. Always."  

She smiles at me, doesn't wait for the minister to tell her it's her turn.  "You're the love of my life," she says.  "You always were. I’ll always be yours.  Good talk."

When I kiss my bride, I know for a fact that we aren’t making a huge mistake by doing this.

I’m married to my best friend.

We’ll go through everything together.

We’ll be great. Things will always be great.

How could they not be?

It’s us.