Joe leaned against the railing, watching the city lights flicker on, and spoke more softly than usual.
“Nelly… look around us. Our lives aren’t just one story, one tribe. We’ve got friends from everywhere—black, white, brown… Muslim, Christian, Jewish. Real people, real lives. That’s the truth of it.”
Nelly crossed her arms, but she was listening.
Joe continued, “If we’re gonna stand up there and say vows, it can’t just be for show. It’s gotta mean something. All of them should be there. Not just the polished ones either—the ones doing well. I mean everyone.”
“Everyone?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Even the people most folks pretend not to see. The guys out in Surrey, sleeping rough. The ones people walk past like they don’t exist. I gave one guy a dollar once—American bill. He laughed and called it the ‘mark of the beast.’ But you know what? He still smiled. Still human.”
He paused, then added with a sharper edge, “And honestly? No billionaires. Not even Mark Zuckerberg—unless they’re ready to actually share what they’ve got. Not for show, not for headlines. I mean really help the people at the bottom… the ones grinding, the ones forgotten, everywhere.”
Nelly raised an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty strict guest list.”
“It’s a real one,” Joe said. “This isn’t about status. It’s about the salt of the earth—people who carry the weight and don’t get the spotlight.”
She looked out at the skyline, thinking it over.
“That kind of wedding,” she said slowly, “people won’t forget.”
Joe nodded. “Good. Maybe they’ll remember why it matters too.”
