(just a disclaimer, I've only seen half of the wedding episode, so sorry if something's a little out of canon…)
She'd never doubted anything in her life but somehow, this was different. There was no room for error: the Doctor had shown her that sometimes, there isn't time for regrets or leaving things unspoken. Because he had all of time crammed into the corners of his blue box-because he could be gone at any moment, disappeared, left her behind at her flat again. And Amy had learned to appreciate him, with each second that she got to spend with the raggedy man.
Somehow, as she drifted into her bedroom on the TARDIS, the soft whirring mechanisms a comfort to her ears, she found herself thinking these things about Rory. They had so much and so little time... 2,000 years had gone by for her like none, but so much longer for him. She glanced at her wedding dress, hanging in the corner. He was already asleep, the gentle rhythm of his chest seeming to match up with the noises of the gears and baubles. His mouth was slightly open. She let out a little laugh. Rory, the Roman. Rory, the plastic centurion. Rory, her husband.
Carefully, Amy slipped beneath the covers beside him, the warmth of him filling her up and calming her. The peace of it all made her sleepy, and she curled up close to Rory. He shifted in his sleep and reached for her. She smiled to herself.
She had never doubted anything in her life, except how much time she had left. But if ever she had a choice, Amy would have been the girl who waited all those thousands of years, for Rory.
