Rule No. 1: Don’t be too emotional : Special 5

Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.

The Wizard of Oz. 1939

Engaged! I’m engaged. I’m actually engaged to him! I could practically burst into song. Yes, P’Jane and I are officially engaged. The Western concept of engagement is different from the Thai one; when one person asks and the other says “Yes,” it’s considered complete-no need for witnesses or elaborate ceremonies.

As for the wedding date, we haven’t settled on one yet. I want my entire family from Thailand to be able to join us in America. We aren’t in a rush because we know it’s happening no matter what. I still get a strange, ticklish butterfly feeling every time P’Jane introduces me as his “Fiancé” instead of his “Boyfriend.” I feel the same way.

I never thought I’d use that word so naturally, as my mind usually jumps straight from “dating” to “husbands.” A Note on Titles: In a same-sex union, we don’t usually use “Husband and Wife.” We are both “Husbands.” In the future, P’Jane will be my husband, and I will be his. I’m not his “wife” (since I wasn’t born female).

I trust you’re all smart enough to understand that! I clapped my hands like a happy seal as P’Jane skied down the snow-covered slopes with professional speed. We were at a ski resort in Hockley, Ohio, in January. New Year’s had just passed, and the air was biting cold. He skidded to a stop right in front of me, sending a spray of white snow into the air.

“Well done, JP! Well done!” I shouted. That was fast-faster than anyone else on the hill. He smiled, pushing his goggles up onto his helmet. I ran up to hug him, beaming with pride.

“You were incredible, P’.”

“He was okay. I’m cooler,” a voice interrupted.

“Shut up, James Carter!” P’Jane barked, lunging to kick his brother. Jamie was quick enough to dodge. I’m used to them bickering now; as long as they don’t actually draw blood, I let them at it. This was only my second time skiing, and I loved it. Since moving to America, I haven’t played football (soccer) much because it’s not as popular here. My only exercise was going to the gym with P’Jane, so skiing felt like a wonderful gift.

“Jane, you’re getting good too,” he said, rubbing my head warmly.” For your second time, you’ve improved so much.”

“I still need a lot of practice.”

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, his warmth enough to melt the snow around us.

“I’M HUNGRY! Can we go back to the room yet?” Jamie blurted out, shattering the romantic moment just as we were about to kiss. P’Jane shot his brother a murderous look.

“Come on,” Jamie continued , “You guys are getting married soon anyway.

You have the rest of your lives to be lovey-dovey. Can we just eat now?”

“Why did you even come with us? Why aren’t you with Dad?”” Because I wanted to ski!” The “Ramyeon” Dinner I turned down the fancy dinner P’Jane had booked. Instead, I opted to cook Ramyeon that I’d bought from an Asian market using an electric pot I brought myself. In this weather, I didn’t want steak or burgers; I wanted something hot and spicy. The steam billowed up from the pot. I boiled five packs because l knew once the boys smelled it, they’d want in. I was right. We sat there slurping the spicy Korean noodles happily.

“Better than steak, right?” I asked P’Jane. He smiled, chopsticks in hand.” Much better.”

“This is the best, Lil’ Jane! Even if it is a bit spicy,” Jamie said with his mouth full, struggling to use chopsticks and eventually switching to a fork.

After dinner, Jamie went to his room in our two-bedroom suite. P’Jane went out to the balcony to smoke. I followed him and found him leaning against the railing, exhaling a cloud into the freezing night air.

“I can’t take it,” he muttered.

“Can’t take what?”

“Him being such a third wheel.” He gave a half-joking, half-serious smirk. I laughed.

“Don’t overthink it. Jamie just wanted to hang out with us. He has to go back to school soon anyway.”

“I can’t wait until he has a girlfriend of his own.”

“Why? Are you going to be a third wheel to them as revenge?”” Probably.”

I laughed harder.

“How old will you be by then? You won’t be that childish.” He shrugged.

“You never know.” I pinched both his cheeks.

“Oh, lover boy. Let me kiss you.”

“Do it.” We leaned in, drawn together like magnets. He extinguished his cigarette with that terrifyingly cool flick of his and wrapped his arms around me. I felt myself heating up despite the cold. He slid his hand under my sweater and whispered, “Shall we go to the bed?”

“Mm-hmm… ”

“GUYS! Let’s eat cheesecake! I want dessert!” Jamie slid the balcony door open, holding a plate of cheesecake and a fork. He looked completely innocent and oblivious as P’Jane and I jumped apart.

“Oh… uh… yeah! Great, Jamie! Go back inside, we’ll be right there,” I stammered, my breath hitching. P’Jane let out a long, frustrated exhale.

“I am going to actually tackle him tonight,” he hissed through his teeth.

“Oh, stop it. He clearly didn’t know.”

“He knew. He’s just a brat.”

“He’s only fourteen!”

“He’s almost fifteen. That’s a man.”

“He’s fourteen. Let’s just go eat the cheesecake.” Our February trip to Europe wasn’t a “Honeymoon”-that’s for after the wedding. For now, it was just a romantic getaway. I was so excited I started packing two weeks early, checking the weather every day and making lists of sights to see. P’Jane, who has been to Europe countless times, wasn’t excited about the locations. He said the only thing making him happy was going with me. Sigh. He’s such a smooth talker, but I love it. I thought my suitcase was big, but P’Jane’s was massive-large enough to hide a person in.

“Are you moving house?” I asked.

“We’re going to Paris and Milan, Jane. Do you really think you aren’t going to shop? When you run out of space, don’t come asking to use my suitcase.”

“I’m not going to shop! I’m not a brand-name addict like some people around here.”

“We’ll see,” P’Jane smirked.

“Remember those words. I’ll be watching.” The morning of the flight, we were all set to leave for the airport. We weren’t taking the private jet this time; we were flying First Class because it was more convenient for the train travel we planned to do within Europe. We ran into Jamie in the lobby, standing next to a huge suitcase and grinning.

“Morning! Are we ready to head to the airport?” P’Jane’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean ‘we’? Me and my fiancé, yes. But you? Why are you here?”

“I’m going with you! I just got here.”

“I didn’t book a ticket or a hotel for you!”

“Don’t worry about it. Dad had your secretary, Emily, book everything for me this morning.”” What?!”

“Yep. I’m coming along.”

“Don’t you have school? This isn’t a holiday!”

” Dad called me out of school,” Jamie said

nonchalantly.

“Where is Dad?”

“He’s staying in the States.”

“Then why are you coming with us?”

“Because I told Dad you were okay with it, and that the only reason you didn’t book my ticket was because you were too busy with work.”

“Jamie… ”

“Come on! Dad already paid for everything. I want to see Europe too! It’s not a big deal, right, Lil’ Jane?”

“Uh… well… I guess… ” I couldn’t say no when he looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes. P’Jane snorted.

“Were you born specifically to ruin the aesthetics of my life?”

“Hey, that’s mean! I’m hurt!” Jamie chirped, looking completely un-hurt and very happy. We started in Italy, then France, Monaco, and finished in Austria. Everything was perfect-the Michelin-starred food, the cafes, the stunning architecture. The only problem was the brothers fighting non-stop.

“FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE, PUMPKIN-HEAD! You are useless! How did you manage to take a photo of the Leaning Tower of Pisa looking perfectly straight?!” P’Jane was yelling as we drove from Pisa to Florence. He had just checked the photos Jamie took of us. Jamie pouted and yelled back.

“I didn’t make it straight!”

“Look at it! It’s as straight as a skyscraper in New York!” P’Jane pointed at the screen. I peeked over and realized Jamie must have tilted the camera at the exact same angle as the tower’s lean, effectively “fixing” it in the photo.

“Why did I even fly to Pisa?!” P’Jane groaned.

“JP, stop complaining!”

“You think it’s not annoying to have a brother who makes the Leaning Tower look like a factory steel beam?!” P’Jane then grabbed his brother’s head and started noogie-ing him ruthlessly. Jamie screamed, “OW! Let go of my hair!”

“If I took a photo of you with the Leaning Tower looking perfectly straight, you’d be whining even more, you little grumbler!”

“I am NOT a grumbler!”

“Enough! Stop fighting this instant, both of you! Separate!” | stepped in to mediate the blood feud.

“P’Jane, let it go. Look at the other photos and see if they’re nice. There has to be at least one where the tower isn’t straight.” P’Jane did as I suggested, but then he spoke up: “Out of ten photos, you made the tower straight in five of them. And why did. it have to be my solo shots? Why is it that in Jane’s photos, the tower is leaning exactly like it’s supposed to?”

“You probably just stood in the wrong spot yourself!” I was exhausted from trying to stop them from fighting. It looked like this would last the whole trip, so I decided to just accept it now so I wouldn’t end up in a foul mood myself. We traveled to Florence, a city as beautiful as a masterpiece by a world-class painter. We enjoyed the city with the Arno River cutting through its center, cradled by hills. We stayed there for one night before heading to Rome. As for Pisa, we didn’t stay the night; we only stopped for a few hours since there wasn’t much to see besides the Leaning Tower-one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Rome was elegant and packed with so many breathtaking sights that even staying for two nights wasn’t enough to see everything. P’Jane said it was fine because we could always come back. Then we went to Milan, one of the fashion capitals of the world. After Milan, we set off for the place I wanted to visit most: Venice.

If Florence made me happy, Venice made me feel like an excited child. I loved it so much I wanted to stay for a month just to soak in the atmosphere and write a novel. Venice gave me so much inspiration. I think I might write a story set there, or perhaps build a fictional world where citizens only travel by boat and preserve traditional architecture just like this.

The three of us took a gondola ride, feeling cheerful. Throughout this trip, I never stopped uploading photos to Instagram, and my friends were flooding the comments with envy. We stayed at the most famous hotel in Venice for one night, and once we were done with Venice, our business in Italy was concluded.

We headed for France the next day. I think I’ve fallen in love with Europe. First, it was Italy, and now I’ve fallen head-over-heels for France. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Seine, the Palace of Versailles, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Champs-Élysées-everything impressed me endlessly. We stayed in Paris for two nights, and P’Jane and Jamie shopped so much I wondered if the magnetic strips on P’Jane’s credit cards would wear out from being swiped so often.

They spent money without a second thought. Being rich is truly enviable.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” P’Jane asked after buying a new belt at the Hermès shop. I gave a weak smile.

“No, thank you.” I wasn’t about to trade an amount equal to a whole novel’s manuscript fee for a single belt or a handkerchief. P’Jane smiled.

“Come on, I’ll buy it for you.”

“But… ”

“Do a little shopping. You’re in Paris, Jane. Do you want the city to lose its reputation? You didn’t buy a thing in Milan earlier-Milan is probably crying by now.”

“Well, I just don’t want anything… ”

“Nonsense. Madame, peut-il essayer cette ceinture?” (Ma’am, can he try on that belt?) “Bien sûr, Monsieur.” (Of course, sir. ) What did P’Jane just say… ? P’Jane once told me his French was just “so-so.” I think he underestimated himself because he was speaking fluently. It was more impressive than Paris itself. Whether at hotels, restaurants, cafes, or anywhere else, he seemed to have no trouble understanding rapid-fire French. Or maybe he did struggle but just didn’t show it? Jamie whispered to me that besides French, P’Jane can also speak Spanish. Ah… he’s amazing. I mean, the fact that I’ve managed to “own” this man is amazing. In the end, I walked away with tons of stuff from shopping on the Champs-Élysées, all paid for by my fiancé.
I swear I refused, but P’Jane kept insisting. And I have to admit, I enjoyed the shopping spree. I got to laugh, got free stuff (didn’t have to spend a dime)-it’s no wonder people say shopping is a form of therapy. P’Jane said that psychologically, the reason spending money makes us feel better is because it gives us a sense of control. That’s why during disasters or pandemics, even if the government says supermarkets won’t close and food isn’t scarce, people still rush to clear the shelves.

It’s not just fear of hunger; it’s a need for control. After Paris, we went to Disneyland. Naturally, Jamie was more excited than anyone. The next day, after resting from the theme park fatigue, we went to Nice. It’s a coastal city in Southern France with breathtaking views. The sea was a deep blue, the sky was vivid-it looked exactly like the postcards I saw as a kid. It truly deserves its title as the country’s top resort city. After two main cities in France, we traveled to Monte Carlo, Monaco. The landscape of this tiny country is like heaven on earth. In my opinion, it’s somewhat similar to Phuket, but with a much more high-end, luxurious feel. Probably because this is the country with the highest density of billionaires, the most expensive real estate, and the highest cost of living in the world.

On the streets, I saw nothing but supercars driving around. It made my head spin more than walking through P’Jane’s garage. Car brands considered “ultra-luxury” in Thailand are just “entry-level” here, because everyone drives cars worth at least twenty million baht. Seriously, the wealth was blinding. Furthermore, the management in Monaco is excellent. Everywhere is clean and safe, and the roads are top-tier. It’s no wonder the billionaires have so much fun driving their supercars; the regular roads here could easily be used as Formula 1 tracks. Of course, I didn’t miss the chance to update my Instagram. I always study the locations before we go and dress to match the vibe or color palette. P’Jane and Jamie do the same, so the three of us never look out of place. We always “control the tone.” When I post the photos, they look like a beautiful, cohesive set that’s pleasing to the eye. Besides my friends, many of my readers follow and like our trip updates.

“I LOVE MONTE CARLO!” Jamie shouted into the wind from the back seat of the convertible P’Jane had rented.

P’Jane was wearing his new Louis Vuitton sunglasses from Paris, and so was I. The tall man smiled and shouted back over the wind.

“You like it that much, little bro?”

“A lot! This is my favorite place of the whole trip. I want a house here!”

“Then you’d better earn a lot of money, you know?”

“Why don’t you and Dad have a house here?”

“Because we wouldn’t know what to do with one. We don’t exactly want to live here.”

“Just for vacations then!”

“We aren’t free to come here that often.”

“Then can you buy a house in Monte Carlo for me?”

“What?! Are you out of your mind?” P’Jane exclaimed.

“If you want something, you have to buy it yourself, you hear? Don’t think you’re going to mooch off me and Dad for the rest of your life.” Jamie scowled at the answer.

“But you have so much money!”

“It’s not for you to squander!”

“Boys, please! Don’t fight,” I quickly interjected as Jamie looked ready to shout a retort. The younger boy fell silent, turning back to admire the stunning scenery instead.

“I’m going to have a house here someday. I swear it.”

“If you pull it off, I’ll certainly be happy for you. But you know it won’t be easy, right?”

“Shut up, JP.”

Jamie seemed head-over-heels in love with Monte Carlo-even more so than Disneyland Paris. To be honest, I don’t think it’ll be that hard for him to own a home here. His “starting capital” in life is high, and he has a very wealthy father and brother; a portion of the family fortune will inevitably be his.

P’Jane and I don’t plan on adopting children anyway, because we both agreed-without even having to say it-that having Jamie is basically like having a child already. P’Jane’s father is getting older now, too, and health issues are starting to catch up with him. From what P’Jane tells me, the old man was quite the wild card in his youth.

Like father, like son. We eventually flew out of Monte Carlo to our final country: Austria. We started in Vienna, the “Leading Lady” of Europe. We visited many places, but the Baroque-style National Library left the deepest impression on me. It felt ancient, powerful, and magnificent. My “writer’s blood” was pumping; I fell completely in love with that library.

Next was Salzburg, a city packed with precious sights. Europe is truly full of nothing but beautiful cities and exquisite architecture. Perhaps it’s because they’ve been civilized for so long. After Salzburg, we headed to the final highlight of the trip: Hallstatt. We lugged our suitcases onto a high-speed train and then took a boat across to this “Heaven on Earth.” It was breathtaking.

Ever since I stepped foot on this continent, I feel like I’ve overused the words “beautiful” and “gorgeous,” but it really is the truth. Hallstatt is a tiny lakeside town with a river in front and mountains behind. Colorful houses and churches are packed together, making it arguably the most romantic place imaginable-a literal dreamscape.

We had two days and one night here before heading back to New York. As we crossed over to Hallstatt, P’Jane checked us into the most luxurious hotel in town. The view from our two rooms was more miraculous than a piece of art. We decided to go for a walk while the sky was still clear. I breathed in the crisp air, watching swans glide across the water.

It felt like being inside a Disney princess movie. Because of the hilly terrain, we had to walk up and down many slopes, working up a sweat. But I didn’t feel tired; my soul felt replenished and healed. I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t realize I had wandered off. Jamie and P’Jane were nowhere to be seen.

“Are you done yet?”

“Huh!?”

“Could you stop rushing me? Am I the one making the drink? The barista is!”

“You’re so high-maintenance. Why did you suddenly have to have a hot chocolate right now?”

“It’s done! There, let’s go,” Jamie said , grabbing his takeaway hot chocolate and leaving his older brother to settle the bill.

The two walked out of the cafe, bickering as usual.

“Good grief! Why do you nag so much? You didn’t used to nag this much. You’ve gotten way worse with age, you know? Especially on this trip.” Jane Patrick raised an eyebrow. His face remained stoic-he rarely shows emotion-but those close to him knew this was his “unpleasant” expression.

“Don’t you think you’re at least part of the reason why?”

“I haven’t done a single thing wrong-OW!” Jamie cried out. He had been so busy arguing with his brother that he didn’t look where he was going. He tripped over something and went tumbling to the ground, his hot chocolate flying out of his hand.

“JAMIE!” P’Jane shouted his brother’s name and rushed to his side. Jamie was groaning on the ground.

“Are you okay? Did the chocolate burn you?”

“No, it flew out of my hand.”

“Lucky for you. Can you get up?” Jamie nodded, bracing his hands on the ground to push himself up.” OW! OWWWWW!”

“Jamie, what is it?” P’Jane knelt down immediately.

“I… I can’t stand up!” The boy’s voice was tight with pain. He hadn’t felt it at first, but the moment he tried to move, he realized he was paralyzed by the ache. P’Jane reached out and touched Jamie’s right ankle. Jamie let out a sharp yelp.

“Looks like a sprain,” P’Jane murmured.

“A sprain? No! I have to practice when I get back to New York!” Jamie was thinking of his athletic career; he had promised his coaches he wouldn’t get injured or sick. He was terrified of their reaction.

“It’s already sprained. Nothing you can do now. It’s definitely going to swell,” P’Jane analyzed quickly.

“Alright, let’s get back to the hotel and get some ice on it.”

“I’m never going to make it back to the hotel,” Jamie said , sounding like he was about to cry.

“Don’t cry. You’re an athlete-a very good one. This is nothing.”

“I can’t imagine how mad the coach is going to be… ” Jamie’s face was pale.

“It was an accident. No one wanted this to happen. And who said I was making you walk, you dummy? I’m going to carry you on my back.”

“Are you crazy? I’m almost fifteen! I’m not getting on your back!” Jamie’s ears turned bright red.

“I don’t think you have a choice, Pumpkin-head. By the way, where’s Jane?” P’Jane finally realized they had lost him in the midst of their arguing.

“We probably got separated when we stopped for chocolate… ”

“Because of your greed. See?”

“I am NOT greedy!”

“Stop yelling. Hang on, let me call him first.” P’Jane called him and discovered they were in different spots, but that he was safe and would meet them back at the hotel for dinner.

“Okay, see you then,” P’Jane said in Thai before tucking his phone away. He turned back to his brother and spoke in English.

“Alright, get on my back, Jamie.” Jamie hesitated but saw his brother was right-there was no other choice. He climbed onto P’Jane’s back. P’Jane stood up to his full height, secured his grip on his brother, and began the trek down the hill.

“Do you need to put on more weight? What does Max say?” P’Jane asked, referring to Jamie’s personal trainer.

“He says I need to build more muscle.”

“That’s good. You’re a bit thin. You probably got Dad’s frame, like l did.” The Palakorn family build was naturally tall and lean, but human effort had triumphed; today, Jane Patrick had a physique as rugged as a professional athlete. He was disciplined enough to have maintained his “chocolate” six-pack for years.

“Then why is Dad so fat now?” Jamie asked .

Both brothers burst into laughter before falling silent again.

“Do you believe that soon everyone is going to be flocking to you for an autograph? A rising star… maybe even number one in the industry.”

“I believe in myself,” Jamie said sharply.

“But I admit the competition is high. I admit it, but I’ll never give up.” Whenever he talked about sports, he sounded older than his years.

“Right. And you live for the competition.”

“Yeah. Bottom line: I can do it. One day I’ll be famous. You just watch.”

“Good. Stay focused like that.” P’Jane was starting to huff a bit because of the steep path and the effort of keeping his brother from slipping. It was no easy task; Jamie wasn’t a little kid anymore. Jamie murmured softly, “Thanks, JP.”

“You’re my brother. But you know you’re a real burden right now, right? A literal piece of luggage.” P’Jane joked, playing on the word for “burden” and “baggage.” Jamie didn’t reply at first, but then he broke the silence.

“You didn’t really want me to come on this trip, did you?”

“Not true. I just didn’t expect it.”

“But you wanted to come with Lil’ Jane alone, right?”

“That was the original plan. But having you along wasn’t bad. You made the trip a lot more fun. But please-when I go on my honeymoon, do NOT tag along like this again.” Jamie laughed , his voice almost sing-song.

“So, you do want to be alone with your fiancé.”

“I’m not going to lie to you.”

“Sigh. I get it, though. It’s totally normal. And… ”

“And what?” Jamie smiled .

“Let’s just say… I’m sorry about that time at the ski resort in January. I really was trying to be a third wheel. It was just too funny! Watching you guys kiss and then spring apart… I could barely keep from laughing. And the Leaning Tower of Pisa thing? I did that on purpose too. Hahaha!”

“I knew it! You’re a little brat, James Carter.”‘” Well, look who my brother is.”

“So, you picked up my ‘wicked’ traits, did you? I suppose I should be proud?” P’Jane asked.

“You should be incredibly proud, bro.”

“I have a confession… I love teasing you until you’re absolutely fuming. I don’t know why, but it’s my favorite form of entertainment.”

“I knew that already! It’s because you’re a psychopath. I’ve been teased by you since I was a kid-I’d have to be stupid not to notice.” The tall man laughed at his younger brother’s huffing.

“I actually thought you’d be mad at me. I was terrified,” Jamie admitted .” About what?”

“About me getting hurt like this. I thought you’d say I was looking for trouble and then just walk away, leaving me sitting here crying, struggling to get back to the hotel on my own.”

“How could I be mad at something like that? It was an accident, Jamie. Being mad at an accident is like being mad that it’s raining-it’s pathetic.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“And you are my only brother. You’re my family. Honestly, you’re not much different from a son to me; everyone thinks we’re father and son anyway.”

“True again.” Jamie realized there were many moments in his life where Jane Patrick really did feel like his father.

“That means you are incredibly precious to me. I would never leave you behind, especially when you’re hurting or weak. No matter what happens, I will always be on your team. I’ll support you in everything.” “… JP.”

“Except for buying that house in Monte Carlo.” Both men burst into laughter again. Jamie wiped away tears of sentimentality and threw his arms around his brother’s neck in a warm embrace.

“Thanks, JP. You know you’re the coolest big brother ever, right?”” Yep. I know it best.” Jamie hummed a Justin Bieber song as he was carried back to the hotel. He watched the swans and the stunning scenery until he heard his brother’s deep voice murmur something faint.

“I love you, Jamie.”

“Wait! What did you say? Did I hear that right? Say it again!” The boy stopped humming, excited.

“I am definitely not saying it a second time, you idiot.” Jamie laughed again, tightening his grip around his brother’s neck.

“Hey, are you trying to strangle me… ?”

“I love you too, JP.” I was nervous beyond belief, practically on the verge of a breakdown, because the day had finally arrived. My wedding day. It was a perfect spring day-not too hot, not too cold. My entire family had flown in from Thailand the week before, and Jamie had no matches scheduled. Everyone was here to witness my big moment with my fiancé. I’d even consulted a fortune-teller friend back in Thailand; she told me today was the perfect auspicious date.

Our warm, intimate wedding was held in a garden in Palm Springs, transformed beautifully by a professional US organizing team. I was grateful P’Jane didn’t make it too high-society; he respected my taste, keeping it warm, romantic, and approachable, while still maintaining the grand beauty he loves. P’Jane had poured a massive budget into this. He was the one who wanted every little detail-from the brand of the chairs to the vintage of the wine and the specific brand of the ribbons. He tasted every dish to ensure it met his standards.

He said our wedding had to be perfect; he wouldn’t accept anything less. I just went along with whatever he wanted, as long as it wasn’t so opulent that the guests felt stiff and uncomfortable. But with Jane Patrick, it’s “Go Big or Go Home.” He truly is a Leo. The venue was adorned with thousands of fresh flowers, highlighting the purple of lilacs. The scent was intoxicating. Someone nearby whispered, “This is so romantic!” P’Jane’s father invited many guests. Although P’Jane always told me he had no true friends, when the time came, all his good friends showed up.

It made me happy to see that my “Satan” actually had people who loved and wished him well outside of his family. My own family was wide-eyed and happy, taking photos everywhere. They planned to tour the US after the wedding. I saw Jean with her camera; she was definitely making a Vlog, and I told her to make sure she captured the best moments of me and P’Jane. I got dressed with the help of hair and makeup artists. I wore a slim-fit white tuxedo with black lapels, black trousers, and black leather shoes. A special detail: the shoes were engraved with the metal letters J& J.

“Jenalee, my dear boy, are you alright? You’re freezing! Want me to fix you a drink?” asked Gabriel, my stylist-a flamboyant Frenchman who had lived in the States for seven years.

“I’m just incredibly nervous, Gabriel. You know how it is on a wedding day.”

“Of course! Especially when your husband-to-be is that devastatingly handsome. I’d love to spend one night with that ‘Lover Boy’ myself,” Gabriel said while tying my bowtie.

“Hey, easy there, Gabriel. That man is going to be my husband in a few hours,” I said with a smile.

“Oops! Pardon. I lose myself sometimes; I feel like handsome men belong to the public. God must really love you, Jenalee, to grant you someone so handsome and rich.” I laughed.

“Maybe. But want to know a secret?”

“Tell me!” Gabriel shifted his shoulders expectantly.

“The secret is: I’m Buddhist, and Big Jane… well, he’s an atheist.”

I really wanted to say that my fiancé belongs to the “Religion of Jane Patrick,” where he is his own God, but I didn’t want to freak out lovely Gabriel.

“Oh, I see! Even more of a perfect match. Now, hold still.” Gabriel pinned a small bunch of lilacs to my left lapel and gave my bowtie one last meticulous adjustment.

“Everything is ready. Put on your shoes, mon amour. You look magnificent!” I walked out of the hotel room, my heart hammering as I headed to the ceremony site. Since we were two men, we didn’t have to follow traditional “bride” rules; I could have mingled with guests beforehand, but I chose to hide away. I wanted P’Jane to see me for the first time as I walked down the aisle with my dad. I wanted to see his face.

“Ready, Jane?” my dad asked, checking the time.

“Are you ready, dad?”

“I’ve been ready since we were in Bangkok!” he made me laugh, calming my nerves. I took his arm.

“Dad… ”

“What? You’re making me nervous! Your hands are shaking.”” Don’t let me fall.” He laughed softly.

“I haven’t let you fall since you were a child. I’m certainly not going to let you fall on your wedding day, my boy.” Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to say so much, but my throat was tight.

“It’s time. You may enter.” The melody of a love song I had hand-picked began to play-live music and a soulful vocalist. I stepped onto the aisle. Every eye was on us.

Purple, white, and pink wisteria hung in dense clusters from the ceiling frames. We could leave the Christmas lights up ’til January And this is our place, we make the rules… Lover-Taylor Swift My heart was thundering so hard I might have collapsed if my dad wasn’t holding me. I looked straight toward the altar.

There stood a tall man in a black tuxedo, hands behind his back. He had a lilac boutonnière and the same “J& J” engraved shoes. Behind him stood Tom, the owner of Club The Groove 666, who was acting as our officiant today. The expression on Jane Patrick’s face was one of indescribable joy. A small, beautiful smile graced his sharp features.

He looked so incredibly handsome in his full dress that I wish I could explain to those not here just how good he looked. And he was looking only at me. Not a single glance for anyone else. My dad handed me over to P’Jane. On our left ring fingers sat matching Cartier rings-symbols of our belonging to one another.

I felt like I was under a spell. His dark eyes calmed me, making me forget everything else. I forgot to look for Jamie, Mr. Chuck Tarry, Jean, Jet, or even my mother in the front row. I only saw him. Until I heard Tom speak the final words: “Jane Patrick Tarry Palakorn, do you take Jenalee Thanaphatphibun to be your husband?

Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honor him all the days of your life?” The tall man’s lips curled into a stunning smile.

“I do.”

Tom turned to me.

“Jenalee Thanaphatphibun, do you take Jane Patrick Tarry Palakorn to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honor him all the days of your life?” I looked into his eyes-eyes overflowing with love. Everything we had ever done together flashed through my mind, right back to the first moment our eyes met: me on the football field, and him in the stands. That memory made the answer easy.

“I do.”

“I now pronounce you husband and husband. JP, you may kiss Jane.” P’Jane pulled me in for a kiss immediately. The guests erupted in cheers and applause. Jamie’s whistling and the shouts of Jean and Jet were louder than anyone else’s. When I was a kid, I used to imagine “eternal love,” but it felt so far away I couldn’t even picture it. But now… I think I know what eternal love looks like. Darling, you’re my, my, my, my… Lover.

THE END