38
I wake up to golden light streaming through the curtains and the sound of Liv breathing softly beside me.
For a moment, I relax and watch her sleep. Her hair is spread across the pillow, and she has that peaceful expression people only get when they’re completely relaxed.
She looks like she belongs here.
Like this is how every morning should start.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand—a text from my cousin reminding all the groomsmen about breakfast at nine.
“I have to go,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She stirs but doesn’t open her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty. Groomsman duties call.”
“Mmm. Have fun getting pretty.”
“I’m already pretty.”
“So modest.”
I kiss her again, on the lips this time, and she smiles without opening her eyes.
“See you at the ceremony?” I ask.
“I’ll be the one in green, trying not to cry at other people’s happiness.”
The groomsmen breakfast has too much food, too much coffee, and way too much shit-talking for nine in the morning.
“West!” my cousin Jake shouts when I walk into the private dining room. “There he is. Mr. Mysterious.”
I scoff. “What’s mysterious about me?”
“Everything. You show up with a gorgeous girlfriend out of nowhere, and now you’re acting all cagey about it.”
I laugh. “I’m not acting cagey.”
“You’re absolutely acting cagey.”
“Jake, can we focus on the fact that you’re getting married today instead of my dating life?” I say.
“My dating life is settled. Yours is the mystery.”
I’m confused by his tone like he knows something I don’t. I say again, “There’s no mystery.”
“There’s definitely a mystery.”
The other groomsmen are two of Jake’s college friends and his brother. They are watching this exchange like it’s entertainment.
“Is she the one?” asks Mike, Jake’s brother.
“The one what?” I ask, annoyance crawling up my spine. What is with all these questions? I technically hired her months ago to avoid questions of being single, and now I’m being drilled about shit like is she the one .
“The one you’re going to marry,” he says.
I answer, “I’m not marrying anyone.”
“Yet,” says Jake with a grin.
I snap, “Not yet. Not ever. We’re taking things slow.”
“How slow?” Mike teases.
I didn’t want to start off this day in a bad mood, but now it’s happening because I think about the very near future where I won’t even be seeing much of Liv anymore. We haven’t made any promises about the future.
“Very slow,” I say.
Mike asks, “Glacial slow or turtle slow?”
“Jesus Christ, dude,” I retort, and they all laugh like they have some inside joke. “What?”
“Nothing,” Jake laughs. “We just love to give you shit.”
They all laugh again, and someone orders whiskey shots even though it’s not even ten AM.
“To Jake,” I say, raising my glass. “For finding someone crazy enough to marry him.”
“To love being crazy enough to make sense,” Jake counters.
“To love being crazy enough to make sense,” we echo, and I think about Liv sleeping in my bed and wonder if crazy is exactly what we need.
Getting ready is a blur of matching tuxedos and cologne and someone’s very strong opinions about pocket squares.
“You clean up nice,” Mike says, adjusting his bow tie in the mirror.
“Thanks. You too.”
“Nervous?”
“About what?”
“About seeing your girlfriend all dressed up. First time she’s seeing you in formal wear, right?”
I blink. What is it with everyone knowing the details of my relationship? “Right.”
“That’s a big moment. Sets the tone for future formal events.”
“Future formal events?” I ask.
“You know. Galas, charity things, your own wedding.”
I inhale, trying to not allow this to get on my nerves. “I’m not having my own wedding.”
“Yet.”
I snap, “Why does everyone keep saying ‘yet’?”
“You’ll see.”
What the hell?
I straighten my bow tie and try not to think about the fact that there’s something going on that I don’t know about.
The ceremony is held in the vineyard, with rows of white chairs arranged between the grapevines and an archway of flowers facing the rolling hills.
It’s stunning. The kind of setting that makes you believe in forever.
I take my place at the altar with the other groomsmen, and when the music starts, I scan the crowd for Liv.
I find her in the second row, wearing that green dress Tessa was talking about, and I swear she’s glowing.
Actually glowing, like she has some kind of internal light source.
She catches my eye and smiles, and something in my chest loosens.
She’s here. She came. She’s wearing the dress that makes her eyes look like emeralds, and she’s smiling at me like I’m someone worth smiling at.
The processional begins, and I watch Jake’s face as the bridesmaids walk down the aisle. He’s nervous but happy, the kind of nervous that comes from excitement rather than doubt.
Then the bride appears, and the entire crowd goes silent.
Sarah looks beautiful and radiant in the way brides are supposed to look.
But I’m not really watching Sarah.
I’m watching Jake’s face as he sees her for the first time, the way his expression shifts from nervous anticipation to pure joy.
I’m watching him mouth “wow” and tear up without even realizing it.
I’m watching him fall in love all over again in front of fifty people.
And I feel my own eyes getting watery, because this is what it looks like when someone sees their future walking toward them.
I glance back at the crowd and find Liv watching me instead of the bride.
She’s not crying yet, but I can see it coming. Her eyes are bright, and she’s got that soft expression people get when they’re witnessing something beautiful.
When she realizes I’m looking at her, she mouths “you okay?” and I nod.
More than okay.
Perfect, actually.
The vows are personal and raw and exactly the kind of thing that destroys people like Liv at weddings.
Jake talks about finding someone who makes him want to be better. Sarah talks about finding someone who makes her feel like home.
They’re both crying by the end, and so is half the crowd, and when they kiss, everyone erupts in cheers.
Including me.
Including Liv, who’s definitely crying now.
The reception is a blur of congratulations and wine and speeches that range from hilarious to deeply moving.
My parents corner Liv during cocktail hour, and I watch from across the terrace as my mom asks her a million questions and my dad tells her embarrassing stories about my childhood.
She laughs at all the right moments and looks genuinely interested in whatever they’re saying, and I fall a little bit more in love with her.
Which is becoming a problem, because I’m pretty sure I’m already completely gone.
“She fits,” my mom says when she finds me later.
“What?”
“Liv. She fits. With us, with you, with this whole family chaos.”
“Mom.”
“I’m just saying. I never thought about it as a whole before, but now I approve.”
I shake my head. “Mom, it’s complicated.”
She shakes her head at me, talking in a serious tone, “It’s not complicated. You love her, she loves you, you’re both too stubborn to admit it. Very simple.”
“How do you know she loves me?”
“Because I have eyes. And because she told me.”
I scan the crowd for Liv and say, “She told you?”
“Not in so many words. But yes, she told me.”
My mom has a way of misconstruing things, so I ask, “What exactly did she say?”
“That’s between me and her. But trust me on this one.”
Dinner is served family-style at long tables under string lights, and I end up sitting next to Liv with our families clustered around us.
It feels natural. Right. Like this is how every family dinner should be.
“Having fun?” I ask her as we’re finishing the main course.
“The best. Your cousin knows how to throw a wedding.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“The vows were beautiful.”
“They were.”
We’re interrupted by the band starting up, and Jake and Sarah take the floor for their first dance.
It’s sweet and intimate and exactly the kind of moment that makes you believe in love stories.
“Dance with me?” I ask when the song ends, and other couples start joining them on the floor.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She fits perfectly in my arms, like she was designed to be there.
“You look incredible tonight,” I tell her as we sway to something slow and romantic.
“You clean up pretty well yourself.”
“Thanks.”
We dance through three songs, and I spin her around like we’re the only people on the floor.
Like we’re already married.
Like this is our wedding and our song and our beginning.
The band shifts to something upbeat, and suddenly we’re surrounded by the entire party, including my parents and Tessa and David with the girls.
It’s chaotic and fun and exactly the kind of moment I want to remember forever.
“Such a good wedding,” she says over the music.
“Really good wedding.”
She looks over my shoulder. “Your cousin looks so happy.”
I look over at him, and Jake nods at me. I nod back.
I think about how much I don’t want this night to end. How much I don’t want any of this to end.
Maybe tonight’s the night.
Maybe tonight’s the night we start being honest about what this is.