At Last

They’d kissed thousands of times. Maybe millions over the span of five decades. At this point, their rings were scuffed and tarnished, despite many cleaning trips to the jeweler. All the fights, all the protests, all the countless disappointments after each legal defeat. The three month prognosis arrived hours before the country chose to acknowledge their love, their commitment. Tears of grief birthing tears of joy. Then back again. His hands trembled, nervous after all these years, and he clasped the withered hands of the man who’d shared his life. The minister proclaimed, signatures signed. Joyous tears crept. Lips met.