Scott
For a second after Harrison leaves, neither of us speaks.
My mom looks at me standing there in my suit like she’s trying to hold onto the moment before it passes too quickly. Then she smiles, and her eyes immediately fill with tears.
“Oh no,” I mutter softly. “Don’t do that. I’m already barely holding it together.”
A shaky laugh leaves her as she presses a hand briefly over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispers, even though she’s clearly not actually sorry.
I feel my own throat tighten watching her. Because for so long, I thought this moment would never happen.
She crosses the room and reaches for my tie, quietly fixing the mess I made of it, her hands trembling slightly as she smooths the fabric into place.
“You used to hate ties,” she says softly.
I let out a soft laugh. “I still hate ties.”
“Your father used to bribe you with pancakes to get you into one at Easter.”
The mention of my father still hurts, but it no longer feels like a wound splitting open.
“Scott…” Her voice catches. “I need you to know how sorry I am.”
My chest tightens. “Mom—”
“No, let me say it.” Tears trail down her cheeks. “When you told us you were in love with Harrison, I was so scared of what it meant to us that I didn’t stop to see what it meant to you.”
I can barely breathe around the emotion climbing into my throat.
“And I know I hurt you,” she whispers. “I know my reaction made you feel like you had to defend something beautiful instead of simply being allowed to love someone.”
I drag a shaky breath into my lungs, but it does nothing to stop the tears from slipping down my face.
“Mom…”
“I don’t fully understand everything yet,” she admits honestly. “I think maybe part of me is still grieving the future I thought you were going to have.”
The words should hurt. Instead, they feel honest.
Human.
“But the past few months,” she says quietly, her voice trembling now, “I watched you with him.”
My throat tightens painfully.
“And Scott…” Her expression crumples completely. “I’ve never seen you look so loved.”
That breaks whatever composure I still had left. I look away fast, dragging a hand over my eyes before I embarrass myself completely.
“Hey,” she says softly, reaching for my face the same way she used to when I was little. “Look at me.”
I do.
“I am so proud of you,” she whispers. “Not because this was easy. Because it wasn’t. But because you chose to live honestly anyway.”
For a second, all I can do is look at her.
My mom.
The woman I spent months terrified of losing. And standing here now, moments before I marry the man who owns my heart, something in me is pieced back together.
“And Harrison…” She smiles shakily through tears. “That man loves you with his whole heart.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “He really does.”
She nods like there was never any doubt in her mind about that part.
Then her expression shifts again, softer this time.
Sadder.
“I’m sorry your father isn’t here.”
The ache of that settles quietly between us.
I swallow hard before shaking my head. “You don’t have to apologize for him.”
Her eyes close briefly. “I just always thought this day would look different.”
“Me too,” I admit honestly.
Silence settles around us for a second. Then I take a breath.
“I still hope one day we fix this,” I say quietly. “Me and Dad.”
Mom reaches for my hand again, squeezing it tightly. “I do too.”
Then, she reaches up, smoothing over my tie one last time before resting her palm briefly against my cheek.
“But today,” she whispers, her voice breaking completely now, “today you marry the man you love.”
The words hit somewhere so deep inside me that for a second, I genuinely can’t speak. Because this is the moment I spent years believing I would never get to have.
My mom pulls me into her arms then, and I hold onto her just as tightly while emotion crashes through me hard enough to hurt.
“I love you, sweetheart,” she whispers.
“I love you too, Mom.”
She pulls back after a moment, then she takes a breath and nods toward the door. “Come on,” she says softly. “Your future husband is waiting.”
The word still hits me somewhere deep in my chest.
Husband.
Mom opens the bedroom door, and the second I step into the hallway, Harrison looks up from where he’s waiting against the wall. His eyes immediately find mine.
My mom notices. I can tell by the way her expression changes as she looks between us. She walks over to Harrison, and for one brief second, he almost looks nervous. Mom reaches for his hand before he can say anything.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
Harrison looks genuinely confused for a second. “For what?”
Her eyes shine again as she looks back at me. “For loving my son the way he deserves to be loved.”
“I always will,” he says softly.
Then, to my complete surprise, she reaches up and presses a soft kiss to Harrison’s cheek. Emotion flashes across his face so fast he can’t hide it.
“Welcome to the family,” she whispers.
That nearly wrecks me.
Harrison glances at me, tears filling his eyes enough that I know he’s barely holding himself together, too.
My mom squeezes his hand one last time before finally turning toward the front of the cottage, leaving the two of us standing there in the quiet.
Harrison’s eyes move over my face like he’s trying to hold onto this version of me forever, standing here moments before I become his husband.
Then he reaches for my hand slowly, threading his fingers through mine.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I look at the man who stood beside me through every terrifying part of becoming honest about who I am, and suddenly, all the fear that used to live inside me feels farther away than it ever has before.
Because six months ago, I thought loving him might cost me everything.
Instead, it led me here.
To a man who never once asked me to become smaller before he loved me.
My throat tightens as I squeeze his hand back. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”
Then Harrison leans down and kisses me softly, and for the first time, the future feels like something I’m walking toward instead of something I’m afraid to lose.