A silent vow
Pan Qiu gently turned a page of the outline, her voice softening slightly, but a hint of a smile remained in her eyes.
"My next question might be a bit of a 'stylistic shift'."
Ethan chuckled softly, "It's alright, feel free to ask."
Pan Qiu said softly, "I saw on your college's homepage that you've officiated at weddings?"
Ethan smiled and nodded: "Yes, I've hosted a few."
"This is a bit unexpected. How did you get started on this?"
Her tone was slightly relaxed, but not gossipy; rather, it was out of curiosity about "researchers' emotional practices towards people."
Ethan smiled, as if recalling a somewhat chaotic yet surprisingly heartwarming farce: "Well... the first time, it wasn't planned at all."
He chuckled softly, his tone as if he were describing some kind of divinely ordained mission.
“That was my friend’s wedding—or more accurately, she was like a sister to me. We were neighbors who grew up together, and I’m even the godfather of her children.”
He paused for a moment, as if recalling that scene.
"The wedding is all arranged. The outdoor venue is beautiful, decorated with plenty of flowers, and guests are starting to arrive..."
He sighed, a hint of disbelief in his smile:
"As a result—just two hours before the wedding was to begin, the emcee called to say that something had come up and he couldn't make it."
Ethan shrugged, as if recalling the chaotic scene from that time.
"The scene was chaotic. She was crying, and her mother was on the verge of a breakdown. Then her father looked at me and said, 'You're quite calm and speak appropriately, why don't you host the event?'"
He smiled, a hint of helplessness and tenderness appearing in his eyes.
"I thought they were joking. But fifteen minutes later, I was already searching on my phone for 'how to become a legal wedding emcee'."
"Later I found out that it's actually not difficult in our state. You can register online and it only takes about ten minutes."
Panqiu couldn't help but chuckle: "Did you register on the spot? Right at the wedding?"
Ethan nodded, half seriously and half self-deprecatingly:
"Yes. I was sitting on a picnic bench in a suit, filling out forms with intermittent Wi-Fi, while checking that I hadn't misspelled my name."
Pan Qiu laughed out loud: "And what happened next?"
Ethan looked down and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.
"My mind was in complete turmoil. I had never spoken in front of so many people before, and my hands were shaking."
He looked up at Panqiu, his eyes calm:
"But then it suddenly occurred to me—they were even more nervous than I was. It was like a switch had been flipped. If I just stayed calm, they would feel at ease."
He sighed softly, his tone softening:
“What I said wasn’t profound. But when I looked at them, every word I said was sincere. Maybe that’s what put them at ease.”
"It was a wonderful sense of peace. It was like I was helping two people preserve a quiet moment as they were about to embark on some very important commitment. I think that's the feeling I liked."
She listened intently, and the impromptu wedding scene seemed to appear before her eyes.
After he finished speaking, she realized what she was doing and asked, "So... you still often officiated weddings after that?"
Ethan smiled and shrugged:
"Somehow, word got around. A few months later, another friend asked me to host the event. Then it was a cousin of mine, and then even someone I knew from graduate school who I'd hardly ever spoken to."
He shrugged, his tone a mix of sarcasm and helplessness.
He paused, looked out the window, then turned his gaze back:
“Being invited to officiate a wedding is actually a very private experience. You're not just reading vows; you're witnessing two people choosing each other publicly. And at that moment, you also briefly step into their story.”
When he said this, his tone was calm and sincere, without any superfluous rhetoric, which made it even more moving.
"This also made me realize that although psychology tries to explain love, it can't really put it into a box. Commitment is not just a rational decision, it... is also like taking a leap."
Pan Qiu stared at him absentmindedly, then suddenly another question popped into her head:
Have you ever officiated at a student's wedding?
When Ethan heard the question, he didn't answer immediately, but smiled slightly, a smile that was somewhat complicated.
"No. A student once invited me, but I declined."
He paused, then continued:
“I feel… the distance is too close. Not emotionally, but structurally. There’s a power imbalance in the teacher-student relationship in the classroom, even if we pretend it doesn’t exist. I don’t want to bring that kind of relationship into someone else’s wedding.”
He spoke gently, yet his words conveyed a sense of respect for boundaries.
"Besides... marriage is complicated enough. Nobody wants someone who once gave you a grade to stand on your wedding stage."
“I think I just want to separate certain roles. That way, when I’m on stage, that moment belongs only to them, without anything else.”
Pan Qiu nodded gently and did not ask any further questions.
She glanced at her watch; the interview was almost over. She gently turned off the recorder, and the room seemed to fall silent the instant the red light went out.
“Thank you for sharing this,” she said softly, her tone more steady and sincere than before.
"Thank you for asking," Ethan replied with a smile, his tone still gentle.
The maple leaves outside the window swayed slightly, and the sunlight fell on the round table, as if quietly bringing this conversation to a close.
The interview ended just like that, as if it were just a routine classroom assignment in my doctoral studies.
But years later, when she looks back on this moment, she will understand—
That was more than just an interview.
What she didn't know was that many years later, she would also appear at a wedding he officiated.
The sun was shining brightly, and the wind was blowing across the lake. The vows were so soft that they seemed to be carried away by the wind.
He remained calm and gentle, yet even more captivating than I remembered.
The cuffs of his white shirt were slightly rolled up, his bow tie was neat, and the sunlight falling on his shoulders seemed to coat him with a soft glow.
He spoke in a steady tone, with clear and distinct words, and his gaze was focused and almost tender.
It was a rare kind of solemnity, calm and quiet, making one want to hold their breath.
He repeated the vow, "Please take care of each other," in the same tone.
She sat in the audience, holding a bouquet of flowers, listening quietly.
Fate is sometimes like this—it moves slowly and steadily, taking a long detour, and then, in the most unexpected place, it makes two lines quietly intersect.
However, she would remember the light of that afternoon at the wedding—a soft, restrained light that would linger in her memory for a long time.
She would remember his words, "We can start anytime," the temperature of that glass of water, and the shimmering light on the succulent by the window. Those details she thought were insignificant later became the threads that ignited her memories.
At that moment, she knew nothing. She simply closed the door gently, vaguely sensing that something was quietly beginning.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com