Chapter 37 - Beth
Beth
"Zip me," Harper says.
I step across the bridal suite and slowly pull the zipper up. The ivory silk fits her like a glove.
She exhales and looks down at herself in the floor-length mirror, smoothing the fabric over her hips. "I had this insane thought this morning that it wouldn't fit." She lets out another breath. "How do I look?"
"Like someone Ben is very lucky to have." I reach up and carefully tuck a stray curl behind her ear.
She smiles, and the warmth of it settles across her face.
Luna appears in the doorway holding a mascara wand in one hand and a champagne flute in the other. "Maren says the best men are in position. Also, I notice Knox's tie is a tad crooked."
"It's been like that since the fitting," I say, laughing. "I think it might just be part of the design at this point."
Harper laughs too, the bright, unguarded sound instantly melting the last bit of pre-wedding tension hanging in the room.
"Okay." Harper takes a deep breath. She smooths the front of her dress with both hands one last time, her eyes locking onto her reflection. "Let's go get me married."
***
One hundred and forty-eight guests sitting in white folding chairs.
The Arbor House chandeliers are turned low, warm light pooling across the hardwood in long amber rectangles.
My eyes immediately jump to the ceiling, a deep swell of pride hitting my chest as I take in the massive, cascading installations of silver dollar eucalyptus and white ranunculus the wedding crew and I spent all morning hanging along the exposed beams. It looks perfect.
Ben is already under the arch. His jaw is tight, his eyes are glassed over, and his hands are clasped in front of him like he's holding himself together at the seams.
I walk down the aisle between Mason and Arthur, with Knox just ahead of us.
The walk is maybe forty feet. Mason's arm lightly brushes mine.
Arthur's fingers find my elbow to steady me when we slow at the midpoint.
Knox glances back, just for a second, and his eyes catch mine before he faces forward again.
A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my stomach.
I keep my breathing even. I have a job to do right now.
We split at the front. Knox steps in directly beside Ben, and whatever he mutters makes Ben exhale a sudden, shaky laugh.
Mason and Arthur follow him, taking their positions on the groom's side to complete the lineup.
I step away from them, crossing to the opposite side and taking my place at the front of the line right next to Luna and Maren. The music shifts.
Harper appears at the end of the aisle on her father's arm, and Ben immediately slaps a hand over his mouth.
My vision blurs, and Maren passes me a tissue without even looking.
The ceremony is simple. Unhurried. Ben's vows go first—he promises to always let her pick the movie, to never pretend he knows where they're going when he's lost, and to keep showing up, even on the days when showing up is the hardest thing in the world. His voice cracks on that last one.
Harper steadies herself with a breath. She promises to always love his cooking. To never let a fight last past morning. And she promises, her voice thin and bright and barely holding, that she will always, always be there for him. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard.
He says, I didn't know what home was until I moved in with you.
Knox blinks. Twice. Three times, fast. Mason's hand moves to the small of Knox's back, just resting there, steady and quiet. And Arthur is watching me from across the arch. When our eyes meet, something in his expression shifts, and something warm blooms in my chest.
***
The DJ taps the mic and calls for the maid of honor. I stand, smooth my dress, pick up the champagne flute. My fingers are steady. The rest of me is not.
"For those of you who don't know me, I'm Beth. I own a flower shop called Wildflower and Vine, which means Harper has been getting free bouquets for almost two years. That is genuinely the foundation of our friendship."
Laughter. Harper rolls her eyes, already smiling.
"I had just moved to Lakeview. I knew exactly one person in this entire town, and I'd just opened the shop. Boxes everywhere. Dirt on the floor. And this woman walks in, picks up a bunch of peonies, puts them on the counter, and says, 'You look like you need a win.'"
Harper smiles, bright and warm.
"I told her they were on the house. She told me absolutely not. We went back and forth until she just put a twenty on the counter and walked out." I pause. "And then she came back the next morning. And the morning after that. And that was that."
The room is quiet. The good kind.
"That's Harper." I look directly at her.
"She decided I was worth showing up for before I'd even figured that out for myself.
I've been trying to write this toast for three weeks, and every draft sounded like a bad greeting card, so I'm just going to say it plain.
" My throat does something inconvenient, thickening with emotion.
"Harper, you changed my life. I am so unbelievably glad you overpaid for those peonies. "
Her eyes are shining, and I can see her lips pressing tightly together as her eyes get wet.
"Ben." I turn to him. "You are one of the kindest, most genuinely good people I've ever met. And I know that because Harper doesn't settle. So the fact that she chose you tells me everything I need to know."
I raise my glass. "To Harper and Ben. May your love be as stubborn as she is."
The room clinks. Harper mouths I love you from across the table and I mouth it back, and when I sit down Knox's hand finds my knee under the table, a quick warm press, there and gone, and I feel it everywhere.
"That was perfect," he murmurs.
"I thought I was about to black out somewhere around the peonies." I set my glass down, my hand now shaking slightly.
He smiles. "Couldn't tell."
Later, the three of them take the mic together, and for a second they just stand there—Knox in the middle, Mason and Arthur on either side—grinning like idiots, like they've been waiting all night for this part.
Knox speaks first. Looks at Ben for a long beat.
Then something about how they met freshman year: a fire alarm, a stolen futon, Knox saying and after that I figured I was stuck with him.
Mason picks it up from there, easy and warm, something about pasta and stubbornness and a road trip where Ben drove eleven hours in the wrong direction and wouldn't admit it until they hit the ocean.
Arthur gets the last bit. He's the loosest of the three, riffing off what they've already said, pulling a laugh from Harper's grandmother that carries across the whole room.
He lands it with something simple "you make the rest of us think maybe it's possible", and raises his glass.
Ben is wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. And I'm watching the three of them walk back from the mic, Knox loosening his tie another inch, Mason clapping Arthur on the shoulder, and something in my chest is so full it aches.
***
The first sign comes around ten o'clock.
I'm on the dance floor with Luna when it starts. A flush that begins somewhere beneath my collarbone and rolls slowly upward.
I stop moving mid-step.
"You okay?" Luna asks, stepping back.
"Just... warm," I say, fanning my neck.
"Yeah, it's easily eighty degrees in here," Luna agrees, reaching up to pull her own hair off her damp neck.
"Right. That's probably it."
I don't think it's it.
In the bathroom, I run freezing cold water over my wrists.
The heavy-duty suppressants I took this morning were supposed to hold through to tomorrow, but it is exactly 10:14 PM, and they are rapidly losing the argument with my biology.
I can feel them doing less and less with each passing minute, like clay going soft in water.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. I am flushed bright pink from the jaw up. My pupils have gone wide enough that I notice, which means the alphas will definitely notice too. I splash cold water on my face and count to ten. The flush backs off a step, maybe two, and holds there, watching me.
Good enough.
By eleven, every single texture has turned up a notch.
The heavy silk of my dress dragging against my thighs.
My own hair brushing across my shoulder.
And the alphas... I've been able to smell them for a few days—that's not new.
What's new is that the volume of their scents has tripled, and my body is starting to stop listening to my brain.
It's actively reaching for them on its own, zeroing in on three distinct points in the room that I can feel without even looking.
Mason is at the bar talking to Harper's uncle. I realize I've been staring at him for several minutes. Arthur is out on the dance floor with someone's grandmother, spinning her, while Knox is leaning against a pillar near the cake table, watching the room.
Our eyes meet, his chin lifts. You okay?
I give him the smallest nod. He doesn't look convinced.
A slow song starts, and suddenly Mason appears at my side, his hand already extended. His sleeves are rolled up to the forearm, and his shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show the hard line of his pecs.
I take his hand and the contact travels everywhere.
We settle into the slow rhythm, his large hand resting on my lower back, mine gripping his shoulder. The physical distance between us is perfectly appropriate for a wedding, and it is nowhere near enough.
"You're burning up," he says. Low. Only for me.
"I know."
"Your heat?"
"The suppressants are losing," I swallow hard. "A lot faster than I thought they would."
His hand presses flat against my spine. One degree firmer. I can physically feel him holding himself back, feel the white-knuckled restraint in his fingers, and god, I just want to press my face into his chest. I want to stay there and let the rest of the room go on without me.