Inside, the justice of the peace was already waiting for them. The simple table was neatly arranged, the marriage license open, stamps beside it, and the formality that filled the light-colored room. It was an administrative ceremony, with no decorations, no excess. Just glances, signatures, and the weight of a commitment that, for them, had existed long before any paper.

“Good morning,” the judge said cordially. “Did you bring rings? Would you like to include them in the ceremony?”

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