I'm told it's your birthday, so here's a dedication for you Viola :-) Happy birthday!

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"Please stand for the arrival of the bride."

Waiting behind the wooden doors of the church, I take a deep breath. I hadn't expected to feel this nervous, yet standing here, with layers of white satin grazing the floor beneath me, a pristine veil cascading down my back, I feel about ready to pass out. I take one last look down at my dress, smoothing the skirt. After hours of scouring bridal stores, I had taken one look at this dress and knew it was the one. Strapless with a sweetheart neckline, it has embroidered detailing on the bodice, which flows into a ruffled skirt. With my hair swept into an updo, a white flower tucked behind my ear and dainty heels somewhere beneath the waterfall of fabric, it's perfect.

In front of me, the first of the bridal party begins to make their way into the church. There's my seven-year-old niece, Emily, who seems to share my curly hair gene (except in a shade of dark brown), clutching a basket of flower petals. Ava, who stands behind the other two bridesmaids, wearing a pretty lilac dress, turns around and shoots me a last grin. This is it.

I feel a light squeeze on my arm, and turn my head to see Dad smiling at me. In eight years, he hasn't aged much, although his once blonde hair is now peppered with gray. "You okay?"

I nod. "Yeah."

Suddenly, it's time. Gripping my bouquet a little tighter, I take a deep breath and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. A few seconds later, I've already passed through the church's arch and am making my way up the aisle, my steps subconsciously matching the rhythm of the string quartet's slow tune.

My gaze locks with Connor at the front of the room. His eyes widen for a moment, in an almost disbelieving manner, and his open mouth forms a miniature O. I smile, feeling oddly self-conscious, especially as it's clear he can't take his eyes off me. For a moment, it's as if we're the only two people in the room – locked inside our own little bubble, even if only momentarily.

As I take my place at the altar across from Connor, passing my bouquet to Ava, I feel the knots in my stomach loosen slightly. At least I've made it up the aisle without slipping on a rogue petal. One thing to cross off the list, right?

I steal a glance at the rest of the room, where all our friends and family are squeezed onto pews, smiling warmly at us. What seems like the entire town has turned out to watch Connor and I tie the knot. My mom and Julie are on the front row, misty-eyed with a box of tissues between them. I'm pretty sure they're already making a dent in the country's supply of Kleenex, and the wedding has yet to start. In the second row, I notice Brandon, who has his arm slung around Macy. At eight months pregnant, she looks ready to pop out Emily's newest sibling right there on the church floor. I just hope, for the sake of the cleaning bill, she doesn't.

I turn my attention forwards again, and consequently catch the eye of the blonde-haired best man, who gives me a reassuring smile. As I return it, I can't help but think how it'll only be a short time before he's standing where Connor is. Ava had called me up a couple of weeks ago, squealing, to announce that Nathan had finally proposed. I've already been appointed maid of honor, although getting through my own wedding is my goal before I move onto anyone else's.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Connor Murphy and Georgie Howard."

Inhaling deeply, I do my best to concentrate on the priest's words. I hadn't realized just how nerve-racking it'd be, standing in front of what feels like an audience of five thousand. I can feel every pair of eyes in the room trained on me, but the only ones I'm focused on are the chocolate brown pair inches away from my face.

"If anyone present knows of any lawful reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

At the mention of his words, a funny flashback hits me. My mind has zoned in on the memory from our childhood; it's hard to believe sixteen years have passed since we stood in Connor's backyard, promising to love each other forever. A practice run for when the day came.

And the day is right here, right now.

The thought is almost surreal.

The first part of the ceremony is over in what seems like the blink of an eye; before I even realize it, it's time for the vows. Connor takes my hand in his, his eyes boring into mine.

"I, Connor Murphy," he begins, "take Georgie Howard to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish... till death do us part."

Blinking back at him, my heart flutters unexpectedly. There's some sort of raw sincerity written plainly across his features that takes me aback. I had known, of course, all my life that my best friend would one day say these words to me for real. But what I hadn't expected was for his expression to be an exact replica of the one he wore sixteen years ago.

The priest turns to me, and I realize it's my turn. My stomach erupts with butterflies and I pray desperately I won't stutter.

"I, Georgie Howard" – I hear my mom sniff in the front row, just as the tissue box clatters to the floor – "take Connor Murphy to be my wedded husband." First sentence down. So far, so good. "To have and to hold from this day forward..."

Connor and I are finger painting at the kitchen table, making a huge mess, aged seven.

"For better or worse..."

We're screaming at each other in an argument that ends with us melting into each other's arms, aged seventeen.

"For richer or poorer..."

We're standing on the porch, posing for photos on the night of our senior prom, aged eighteen.

"In sickness and in health..."

We're both teary-eyed and saying goodbye to friends at our high school graduation, aged eighteen.

"To love and to cherish..."

We're curled up together on the couch in our apartment, aged twenty.

"Till death do us part."

We're standing here right now.

"Can we have the rings, please?"

Nathan steps forward, bearing two gold rings. He passes them to the priest, who then transfers the first over to Connor. Doing my best to keep my hand – which has an overpowering urge to shake – still, I hold my breath as it is slipped tenderly onto my finger, whilst his lips utter the words, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment to you."

I take the second ring and slowly slide it onto Connor's own finger, repeating the same words.

We catch each other's eye and I can't help but grin, a feeling of elation spreading through me. "It gives me great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife," the priest says, smiling warmly between the both of us. "You may now kiss the bride."

Connor's not one for disobeying instructions. In a matter of seconds, he's leaned in and our lips are pressed together, the same way they have been countless times since we were sixteen. Yet in all those years, there's been no hint of the novelty wearing off. Being so close to him leaves me as breathless as ever, and right now – knowing that our bond is finally official, that we're bound together for life – the effect is only increased.

We're married.

We break apart only to be greeted by a round of wild applause from everyone in the room, and as we link hands and set off back down the aisle, I feel the happiest I've ever been in my life.

Fifteen minutes later, we're out of the church and wedged into the backseat of the small wedding car. My dress, which proved awkward to squeeze through the car door and even more awkward to sit down in, is ballooned around me, giving off the slightly strange feeling that I'm sat in the middle of a satin marshmallow. Connor doesn't seem to mind, though; the smile has barely left his face since we departed from the church, and it only widens when he turns to me and digs in his tux pocket.

"I've got something for you," he says quietly.

I frown. "What?"

However, an answer is unnecessary once I catch sight of what he's holding in his hand. A look of surprise is succeeded by an infectious smile that creeps onto my face. Lying in his outstretched palm are two orange-red Haribo rings, glinting in the sunlight streaming through the car window. "You remembered?" I say disbelievingly.

"Of course I did," he replies, sliding one onto my finger so it resides just above my wedding ring. After I take the second and repeat his action, he holds his hand up to the light and smiles. "Nice, huh?"

"Must've cost you a fortune," I respond, grinning.

"Well, you know, nothing's too good for my wife."

The word sounds foreign to my ears. I stare up at Connor, whose features have remained strikingly consistent all the time I've known him. The freckles on his nose are so familiar I could probably map them all out, whilst his soft lips always seem to be able to mold to mine perfectly. "We're married," I say. "Can you believe that?"

"Not really." His voice is quiet, and he reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "I love you, Georgie."

"Good job, really, seeing as you're stuck with me for the rest of your life," I joke. Then I reach over and squeeze his hand. "But it's okay, because I love you too."

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So, that's it. This story is over and there won't be a sequel. I'm sorry :( Thank you for sticking with it all this time, and I hope you liked it!

BUT... what I didn't tell you guys is I've been planning to write one chapter (and one chapter only) in Connor's POV. And I'm letting you pick which one I do. Voting is now finished and the most popular choice was Chapter 14. That should be uploaded soon!

Yes, I'm also doing a one-shot competition - more details on that in a couple of weeks. Thank you all!