The registry office was small, tucked between a solicitor's and a florist in Kensington. There were no flowers, no aisle. Just Jenny, in a cream wrap dress, and Alex, in a simple navy suit, standing before a registrar and a couple of required witnesses — one from HR, one from accounts.

Jenny held his hand with steady fingers. She didn’t need fireworks or violins.

Just him.

"Do you, Jennifer Louise Martin, take Alexander James Bennett,"

“I do,” she said before the registrar even finished.

Alex grinned. “Someone’s impatient.”

“You started it.”

Their vows were short, and their kisses longer. When they signed the register, the clerk smiled politely and said, "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett."

Jenny blinked at the sound of it.

She liked the way it settled in her chest.

Outside, a handful of colleagues gathered with a bottle of prosecco and a camera. Carole stood at the edge, sunglasses on, holding a half-empty plastic flute and watching.

She approached Jenny slowly.

“Congratulations,” she said, voice even.

Jenny turned, eyes cautious.

Carole gave a small smile. “You win.”

Jenny smiled back. “It wasn’t a game.” 

Carole's eyes lingered on Jenny’s hand, the one now wearing a thin gold band. There had been years between them, of shared coffees, sly jokes, late nights at the office that turned into early mornings. For a moment, Jenny thought she saw something more than bitterness in Carole’s gaze. Maybe regret. Maybe grief.

“He was never really mine,” Carole said softly.

Jenny didn't respond. There was nothing left to say. Just two women on opposite ends of a story neither of them had written all the lines to

Carole nodded. “That’s what makes it harder.”

They hugged. It wasn’t warm or cold; it was to keep the peace.

Later that day, they stood at gate 16A, tickets in hand, ready to board.  

Jenny, Mrs Bennet, and His wife.

And just like that, it hit him.

This was real.

No hotels. No office glances. No secret texts or pub exits in secret.

“Jenny?” he said, voice low.

She turned to him, a smile already rising.

“Yes, Mr Bennett?” 

He paused, studying her face, suddenly overcome by the ordinariness of the extraordinary, the fact that this woman, his wife, was beside him with no more obstacles to clear.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “Just… I like the way you say that.”

She nudged him with her shoulder, laughing softly. “Then get used to hearing it.” he would. Every day, if she let him.  

“Shall we board?”

As they walked through the gate, hand in hand, they were met by a sharply dressed senior flight attendant with a warm smile and an accent polished by years in the sky.

“Mr and Mrs Bennett,” she said smoothly, “welcome aboard Singapore Airlines. If you’d come with me, you’ve been upgraded to the Singapore Airlines Suites.”

Jenny raised a brow. “We have?”

The hostess smiled wider, clearly enjoying the surprise. “Compliments of your former senior management and colleagues. There's a bottle of champagne chilling for you, too."

Alex groaned. “I knew letting Neil organise the office whip-round was dangerous.”

Jenny laughed. “We’ll be lucky if they haven’t left an invoice taped to the seat.”

They followed her downstairs to the luxury pods.

She waved a hand, pointed in the direction, and directed them to their seats. "If there is everything you need," she explained.

Alex looked around. " Well, Mrs. Bennet, we have everything here, even a double bed," he said, grinning.  

Jenny sank into her seat with a grin. “So we don’t even need to behave.”

Alex looked sideways at her, and out of the corner of his eye, he said, "I bet you never thought you would join the mile-high club like this."

Jenny raised an eyebrow and licked her lips…

They clinked their glasses of champagne, smug and totally ready for take-off.

The A380 lifted off just after midnight. Jenny stared out the window as the city lights blurred beneath them.

“I didn’t think I’d be nervous,” she said softly.

Alex turned in his seat, brushing a hand against hers. “New beginnings always feel like endings at first.”

She looked at him and smiled. "That sounded philosophical."

“I read it on a menu once.”

She laughed, and the plane climbed up into darkness over Kent.

Their apartment in Singapore was modern and minimalist, with floor—to—ceiling windows high above the city. On their first night, they stood barefoot on the balcony, drinks in hand, watching the sun melt into the horizon in deep golds and lazy pinks.

Jenny leaned against Alex’s chest. “We did it.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Yes, my darling, we did.”

The view was ridiculous,  all glittering skyline and humming traffic below. It was a city pulsing with purpose, and here they were, strangers threading themselves into its rhythm.

Jenny thought about their last morning in London: the empty flat, the farewell coffee with his sister, the way Alex had looked at her like she was already home.

“Feels like we pressed reset on our lives,” she murmured.

“Not reset,” he replied. “Just… finally on the same page.”

They stood there in silence, the humid air clinging to their skin.

“Do you regret it?” she asked quietly.

Alex turned her gently to face him. “Not a single second. Not even the part where Carole nearly murdered me with her eyes.”

Jenny laughed, eyes soft. “I don’t want to lead anymore.”

“You never had to,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “I just wasn’t ready to walk beside you. Until now.”

She kissed him, slow, full of everything they hadn’t said during the chaos of the last week.

Inside, they undressed each other with the ease of lovers and the reverence of something new.

No teasing this time.

No roles to play.

Just Jenny, lying back on crisp white sheets, pulling Alex down with her. His hand slid over her hip, slow and assured. Her breath caught — not from shock, but from the weight of knowing this was real now.

Their bodies moved in sync—not a chase or power play, just rhythm. Heat. A thousand silent promises told in touch.

Jenny whispered his name as he pressed deeper, her hands on his shoulders, her legs wrapped around him like she never meant to let go.

When she climaxed, it was quiet and whole, not a peak, but a release. When Alex followed, his forehead was pressed to hers, his voice low and shaking.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I love you back.”

They lay tangled in sweat and sheets, limbs lazy, hearts still racing.

Outside, the city lit up like a living thing.

Below them, traffic whispered through the veins of Singapore. A siren somewhere in the distance, the low hum of the air conditioning, the creak of unfamiliar walls — it was all new, and yet this quiet between them felt ancient. 

Jenny turned her head toward him.

And just like that, the city faded. It was just them. It always had been 

And inside, in their private world, Mr and Mrs Bennett began again.

Not running.

Not chasing. 

Not leading.

Just walking forward, Side by Side.

Together. 

--------------- The End ------------------