Chapter Thirty-eight
Thirty-eight
Ginny
It’s the morning of Sadie and Beckett’s wedding, and everything is a whirl of satin, flowers, and nerves. The cottage smells like fresh eucalyptus and garden roses. I’ve barely slept, but the adrenaline in my veins is doing a decent job of helping me pretend I did.
Ryker and I were up late, sitting in the Armada outside Zach’s apartment. We’d hoped for some sign of him, even just lights turning on inside. But the place was empty. No car. No movement. Just silence. We didn’t talk much. There wasn’t much left to say after everything that happened in block nine.
My stomach twists as I think about facing my grandmother.
Evelyn Dempsey doesn’t just receive bad news.
She weaponizes it. And confirmed sabotage to her prized vines?
She’ll go nuclear. I can already see the storm in her eyes, the way her jaw will tighten before she blames me, not outright, but in that quiet, scathing way that cuts deeper than shouting ever could.
I’ve survived her disappointment before, but this time feels different.
She’s done everything to me it seems like she could, but she could still say or do something horrible that costs me Ryker.
In her mind, I’m sure this all circles back to me choosing him, stepping over the line and siding with the Paradise family. It won’t matter that I had nothing to do with Zach’s actions. To her, loyalty is black and white, and I’ve already picked the wrong side.
Tarryn and Elise have agreed. We aren’t going to ruin this wedding. Sadie deserves this. Beckett too. No family drama, no vineyard sabotage, no betrayal will get airtime during their event. We’ve shelved it until after they’re man and wife.
This morning, Vicky caught us in the hallway on our way to get coffee. She looked tired, her smile more strained than usual.
“Trace didn’t sleep,” she murmured. “Up pacing half the night. He can’t believe, after all the chances we gave Zach, that he would do something like this.”
We know he didn’t do this alone. She didn’t have to say it. None of us trusts Max. And if Trace confronts him, Max will lie. He always does.
Still, there’s no proof it was anyone other than Zach. No confession. Just suspicion and acid churning in my stomach.
Ryker’s fingers brush mine under the table at breakfast, just enough to ground me. He doesn’t say anything, but I know we both were hoping Zach would show up.
I catch a glimpse of Max standing beside Trace, laughing like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
He’s all charm and backslaps, the life of the damn party, and for a second, I wonder…
What if he’s not behind all of this? The sabotage, the well, the vines dying inch by inch?
He doesn’t seem guilty. If anything, he looks smug, completely at ease.
“Where’s Zach?” Ryker asks.
Max scans the room lazily and shrugs. “I haven’t seen him since last night at the rehearsal dinner,” he says with a smirk. “He’s probably shacked up with some girl. Maybe we should be looking for the missing female instead.”
My stomach turns. He’s disgusting.
But now is not the time for that.
Now, I get to help Sadie into her dress. I get to watch her marry the man who loves her fiercely. I get to stand up in front of everyone and pretend, for a few hours, that the world outside doesn’t matter.
I’d really like to believe that.
A little while later, Sadie stands in front of the mirror in her robe, her hair half-pinned and curls tumbling down one shoulder.
She looks beautiful already, even with no makeup on yet.
Outside, it’s the kind of morning you hope for on your wedding day—clear skies, no wind, everything calm. Yet my insides are anything but.
She watches me in the mirror. “Okay, what’s going on?”
I freeze mid–mascara swipe. “What do you mean?”
She turns to face me. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve barely said two words, and you’ve already dropped your brush twice. Something happened. Did you and Ryker have a fight?”
“No,” I say quickly. Then soften. “No, we didn’t fight. I swear.”
“Then what?” she presses. “You look like you haven’t slept.”
I force a smile. “Just wedding stress. You’d be surprised how much work it takes to be a bridesmaid.”
She narrows her eyes. “I don’t buy it.”
Before I can offer another flimsy excuse, there’s a soft knock on the door and Tarryn slips in, cheeks flushed and eyes urgent. “Hey. Can I borrow you for a sec?”
Sadie lifts a brow. “You’re not even trying to be subtle.”
Tarryn waves her off. “You’re minutes away from being the center of attention for the rest of the day. Let me borrow your maid of honor for five.”
Sadie crosses her arms and grins. “Fine. But if she doesn’t come back smiling, I’m dragging Ryker in here and making him explain whatever the hell is going on.”
Tarryn pulls me into the hallway and doesn’t speak until the door clicks closed behind us.
“I’ve been thinking about how to handle Evelyn,” she says, lowering her voice. “We could go with the angle that Elise and Josie discovered the chemical imbalance together. Pretend it was all some unfortunate accident.”
I blink at her. “You want to lie?”
She pauses, like she’s been wrestling with it. “Only to soften the blow. Ease her into it.”
My stomach clenches. “That feels like a mistake. There’s no way vinegar accidentally got into the well. It will just raise more questions.”
Relief flickers across her face. “God, I’m glad you said that. I think so too.”
We both exhale.
“Okay,” she continues, “then maybe Dad and I should go to Evelyn and Sera ourselves. Lay it out honestly—everything we found, no spin. We’ll take full responsibility and offer reparations for the damage Zach caused. Fall on our swords.”
I nod slowly. “I like that idea. A lot.” It feels right—honest, accountable, and most importantly, it keeps me out of the crossfire. “When are you going to do it?”
“Probably during the reception,” she says. “I don’t want to ruin Beckett and Sadie’s day, but we don’t want to delay. The sooner Evelyn hears it from us, the better.”
I nod again. “That’s a good idea. And…thank you. For leaving me out of it.”
Tarryn gives me a faint smile. “You’re Sadie’s maid of honor. You’re not part of the Paradise family. Not officially, anyway,” she adds with a look. “Go be there for her. We’ll handle the mess. But you know some of the blowback may affect you.”
I nod, and for a moment, I have to rest against the wall. “Probably. Or maybe I’m already out, so there’s nothing more she can do. With Evelyn, you never know. Thank you for telling me.”
She touches my arm. “We’ll loop you in later if we need to. But for now, go get Sadie into her dress. Make her day perfect. She deserves that much.”
I nod, swallowing the knot in my throat. For once, I don’t have to play the fixer. I don’t have to explain anything or keep any secrets or stand between two families locked in a centuries-old conflict. I just get to be Sadie’s friend.
The bridal suite transforms the moment the wedding planner arrives—clipboards, timelines, emergency sewing kits, and a flurry of bobby pins.
“Pictures in fifteen,” the planner calls, directing bridesmaids and groomsmen like a general preparing for battle. “We start with the bridal party, then immediate family, then extended!”
Sadie is in her dress now—elegant and classic, all lace and understated glamour. Her veil floats like mist around her shoulders as she turns in the mirror, catching sight of herself with a soft, awed smile.
“I can’t believe this is real,” she whispers.
“It’s real,” I say, my throat tight. No one deserves this joy like Sadie.
Photos begin on the front lawn of the vineyard’s estate house, where wildflowers spill along the stone path and the lake glitters in the background. There are candid and posed shots, laughter and tears, and more than one moment where I think Sadie might smudge her mascara permanently.
When it’s time for the wedding to start, the planner moves us into position.
The music plays, and Kingston steps up to the altar as the officiant in a tailored navy suit, looking surprisingly confident for someone who claimed he was feeling ill an hour ago.
He smiles at Beckett and gestures for the music with a calm, steady hand.
Once I’ve reached my place in front, I turn to watch Caleb walk Sadie down the aisle. The moment he places her hand in Beckett’s, a smile lights up his face. He’s not so much giving her away as passing her into the care of someone he already trusts.
Sadie is radiant, her focus on Beckett like no one else exists. And Beckett… He’s not even pretending to be stoic. He reaches up to wipe away a tear.
Something shifts inside me. All this time, I thought loving someone meant risking myself.
That letting someone in meant giving them the power to leave.
But here, watching Beckett’s hands tremble as he holds Sadie’s, I see something else.
Love isn’t weakness. It’s strength. The kind that keeps you standing when everything else falls apart.
For so long, I thought I had the Paradise family figured out—wealthy, entitled, emotionally distant. But Beckett’s emotion is raw and real. Tarryn’s fierce loyalty, Vicky’s open heart, even Ryker’s tenderness in the quiet moments—they all paint a different picture.
They’re not perfect, but they love hard. They show up. And when they give their heart, they don’t hold anything back.
A breeze moves through the vines, and I close my eyes for half a second, letting it wash over me. When I open them, Ryker’s looking straight at me from the other side of the aisle.
He doesn’t say a word.
Just lifts two fingers and blows me the softest, smallest kiss.
My breath catches. It’s not just the kiss. It’s the look in his eyes. Steady. Unflinching. Like he sees every broken piece of me and still wants in. And I let myself believe that maybe I deserve that. In that moment, I feel like a million bucks.
No matter what storm is coming, I think there’s a place for me here.