Time heals many, if not all, ills and it was little more than a year later when Serapha stood in front of Father Benton’s little church with Michael by her side. The sun was setting in glorious shades of red, gold, and purple, as if even the sky knew what an important occasion it was. The lawn in front of the church was lit with dozens of lanterns, the scent of the first spring flowers was in the air, and the evening was clear, beautiful, and as far as Serapha was concerned, perfect.

“Nervous?” asked Michael, squeezing her hand gently.

“Not a bit,” said Serapha.

Father Benton smiled at them, holding his hand over their joined hands as he spoke a few simple words. Most such ceremonies were held inside the church, and the priest was traditionally supposed to place his hands directly over the couple’s, touching them, but Father Benton had been more than happy to alter the ceremony slightly for his young friend. He did finish with the words, as traditional on Mysteria as on Earth, “You may now kiss the bride.”

Michael did just that, kissing Serapha and wrapping his arms around her while the gathered relatives and friends cheered. She was blushing but smiling when at last he came up for air. And as the new couple were surrounded by well-wishers Serapha took a moment to reflect on the path that had led her to this spot. I guess Dad was right, she thought. If not for all the bad that’s happened, I’d have missed out on a lot of the good. Maybe I would still have done things differently if I’d known where they were going to lead, but… maybe not.

Then Michael caught her up in another hug and she added to herself, If I had to give up this in order to take back the mistakes I made, I guess I’ll keep them.

The End.