Intertwined
I see Christian’s composure crack, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he watches his bride approach.
Once Alessia joins Christian at the altar, the priest motions for the bridesmaids and groomsmen to be seated. We file into the front pew.
The priest, a kind-faced man with a gentle voice, begins. He speaks of love not as a fleeting emotion, but as a conscious choice made every day. “Love,” he says, his voice echoing softly in the hallowed space, “is a promise. It is the foundation upon which you build a shared life, a sanctuary against the storms. It is in the grand gestures, yes, but more importantly, it is in the quiet moments—the shared coffee in the morning, the hand that reaches for y
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