The wedding was small, intimate, deliberately private.
No press, no spectacle, no performance for the public. Just family—Eleanor Thorne, surprisingly warm; Nancy's mother, recovered and radiant; Maya, maid of honor and fierce protector—and friends who'd earned their trust through trial.
"I object to this venue," Adrian whispered as they stood before the officiant, the Brooklyn Botanic Garden blooming around them.
"You chose it," Nancy whispered back.
"I chose it because you love it. But it's outdoors. There are bees."
"Adrian."
"And pollen. I'm probably allergic."
"Adrian."
"Also, I forgot my vows. Can we reschedule?"
"Adrian Thorne, if you don't marry me right now, I'll dissolve the merger."
He grinned, all nerves vanishing. "There's my girl. Threatening me at the altar."
"Always." Nancy squeezed his hands. "Now say your vows before I change my mind and elope with the florist."
The ceremony was brief, beautiful, full of laughter and tears. Adrian's vows were not forgotten—he'd written them at 3 AM, revised them seventeen times, and finally settled on simplicity: "I choose you. Today, tomorrow, every day. Not because you're perfect, but because you're perfectly mine, and I'm perfectly yours."
Nancy's were briefer: "You were my boss, my lover, my enemy, my partner. Now be my husband. And try not to be too annoying about it."
They kissed to applause, to Eleanor's surprisingly emotional sniffle, to Maya's whoop of celebration. And as they walked back down the aisle, husband and wife, Nancy felt the last of her walls crumble.
She was loved. Completely. For herself, not her utility. And she loved in return, not from need but from choice.
The reception was joyous, champagne-fueled, full of dancing that Adrian endured with long-suffering patience. During a quiet moment, Eleanor cornered Nancy alone.
"You've changed him," Eleanor said, not unkindly. "Made him human. I wasn't sure that was possible."
"He was always human," Nancy replied. "He just needed permission to show it."
"And you? What did you need?"
Nancy considered. "Permission to be powerful without apology. He gave me that. By respecting my work, my boundaries, my autonomy." She smiled at her new husband across the room, who was currently being lectured by Nancy's mother about grandchildren. "We gave each other what we needed. That's what partnership is."
Eleanor nodded, approving. "Then welcome to the family, Nancy Thorne. Try not to let him drive you completely mad."
"Too late," Nancy laughed. "But I'm learning to manage him."
"That's all any of us can do."