“Only in the winter. And you would have plenty of warm things to wear.”
“Your Papi likes spoiling you,” she comforted, stroking the girl’s cheek. “He spoils both of us, silly man.”
The little church was empty; there were no guests—not even a best man or a maid of honor. Save for the groom standing at the altar, one might not have known it was a wedding at all. But Phillip and Christine had agreed that they did not need anything fancy—only each other and God. They were, after all, already married in the eyes of the law. So even if she had no one to impress with her lovely white gown and her carefully-pinned curls, Christine felt like a queen. She knew she would take his breath away. She knew she would cry.
That was enough. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the antechamber and into the aisle, her fingers trembling around her white roses. The church was warm against the winter cold, and lit beautifully with votive candles. And Phillip. Phillip was waiting for her. She grinned at him from beneath the lace of the veil, willing herself to take measured steps and not to run to him.
Behind Phillip was a smiling Father Madeline in his best robes—he wore purple, the color of the advent season—and she was somehow almost as pleased to see his sweet face as she was Phillip’s. Even in an empty sanctuary, theirs would be the loveliest wedding there ever was.
He smiled a bit. ”Maybe. Maybe I’m just a fool.” He shrugged and leaned back in the water. ”But Regina…If she ever calls you, tell me, alright?”
"Yeah, of course." She smoothed some damp hair out of his eyes and kissed his forehead. "Come on, handsome, let’s get out of here before we end up prunes…"
"He’s the one that brought me here."
They bathed again in a long silence before he broke it again: “You know why I trust Mr. Gold, right Chrissy?”
"No, you never talk about him unless you can help it…"
"I’m not fond of…really big bodies of water."
"Shh, it’s okay." She stole a kiss and began to lather her hands with shampoo, running it through his thick hair.
He hesitated then
"Or not," she amended quickly. "Whatever you want, babe."
“Yes. A big backyard, with a garden and trees.”
"Maybe a view of the lake…"
“It would be cheaper.” He cupped her face. ”Even if we when to Paris, we would not see beyond the hotel room.”
"Is that so?" She smirked and began to lather the cloth, running it slowly across his chest. "Well, we’d best pick a nice house, then."