Chapter Twenty-Three
You’re The Sun To Me
Cheyenne
The last wedding I attended was two summers ago. I didn’t know the bride or the groom because they had been Stephen’s friends (read: acquaintances). The ceremony took place at Holy Name Cathedral, doves were released after, and my steak at the reception was sorely overcooked.
Today’s ceremony is to be held in the plush backyard of The Serendipity Inn with a reception at The Gardens near Palmer’s Park. I don’t know Ember well, but I’ve known Graham since he was born. Between the resplendent sunshine and the idyllic July temperatures, the lovely couple should have the loveliest of days.
The lake house is quiet now as I help Milo get ready. Indi and Colton went up to the inn to get ready with the rest of the wedding party shortly after we had PB something with Colton is off. He joked like normal, but his smile wasn’t quite convincing. I didn’t have the chance to talk to him before he left.
Milo wanted to swim, so we did, and then I managed to get him down for a short nap. The day will be long even with a nap, so I laid down for a little while too, but sleep mostly evaded me. All I could think about was Colton’s confessions on the dock the other night, the tortured rasp of his voice when he said he didn’t know how to love me.
“I told Colt that I wish he was my daddy!”
Milo says this randomly while he’s sitting on the upstairs bathroom counter between my cooled curling wand and the full sink of water where his plastic sailboat bobs. My fingers fumble with the tie I’m trying to knot around his neck.
Maybe Colton’s distractedness had less to do with the wedding or me, and more to do with… that .
“You did?” I feign nonchalance, but my words sound strangled. Overhead, one of the lightbulbs flickers. I make a mental note to ask Colton to replace it.
“Uh-huh!” Milo shrugs his small shoulders and tiptoes his fingers along my shoulder. “Did you know my mom died?”
The way he subject jumps coupled with his lisp makes it difficult to answer. I open my mouth to say that, yes, I know, but he speaks up again.
“Colt slept in my bed last night!” Milo thumps his heel into the wooden cupboard door. “I had a scary dream. They were gonna take you!”
I go completely still this time, no longer bothering with the tie. I look Milo directly in those wide, trusting eyes. “He did?”
Milo frowns. “Huh?”
“Colton slept in your bed?”
“Oh.” His foot starts thumping again. “Yeah!”
Colton slept in Milo’s bed. My mind refuses to wrap around it. The twin mattress is too small for someone my size, so I can’t imagine it would’ve been comfortable for Colton. His knees would’ve had to be curled, or he’d have to hang halfway off.
“Do you have a daddy?” Milo asks, pivoting conversationally yet again.
I swallow. I reach around him for the comb in the medicine cabinet, cupping my hand around the mirror corner so he doesn’t bump his head. “I do.”
“Do I know him?”
“No, sweetheart.” Trying for a smile, I start working the comb gently through his curls. “You don’t know him.”
He quiets. “Can I know him? Is he nice? My dad’s not very nice. But Colt is,” he adds seriously. “That’s why I told him I want him to be my daddy!”
I bite the inside of my lip. “Yes, my dad is very nice.”
“Will he be at the ding today?”
Wedding, I correct silently. I set the comb on the Formica countertop and wrack my brain on how to explain my dad’s situation. “No, he’s…” He’s what? How does one tell a four-year-old that, yes, her dad is still alive, but no, he’s not truly alive ? “You know how you take naps?”
His nose wrinkles. “Yeah…?”
“Well, my dad is kind of taking a really long nap right now,” I say. I honestly have no idea if it’ll make sense, but it’s my best shot. “He got hurt, and the only way for him to get better is to sleep for a while.”
“Oh!” Recognition lights Milo’s features, dimpling his cheeks and creasing his mouth. “Like a coma?”
I blink rapidly, taken aback by the question. “Um, yes. A coma. How… How do you know that word?”
“‘Cause Inni was a coma!”
What?
Shock ricochets through my body, a jolt from my spine to my toes. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he would’ve told me the kitchen came alive at night, Beauty and The Beast style. “Indi was in a coma?”
“Uh-huh! But I don’t know it.”
And that’s that. Milo reaches out to touch the diamond pendant resting on my collarbone like he didn’t just drop a complete bombshell and then counteract himself. Justin gave me this necklace before my wedding, and while I prefer not to think about that day, I love the necklace and I love my brother.
I don’t love feeling like there’s a lot more to Indigo Del Ray than I know. More than her brothers and her father know.
And she doesn’t trust any of us enough to explain it.
Sunlight dances mesmerizingly over the shimmering blue lake, bathing Ember’s bare shoulders in golden light and highlighting Graham’s clean-shaven jawline. A soft breeze rustles the flowers tucked artfully into the handcrafted wooden arch, carrying with it their fragrance. Sweat collects under the satin of my dress, especially where Milo sits on my lap, and I tipped my sunglasses on after John walked his daughter down the aisle.
The perspiration, however, might also be because Colton keeps looking over at me.
The man looks devastating today. He stands tall beside Graham, his hands are clasped, his shoulders broad, and feet braced apart. He’s classy in tailored navy slacks and a white dress shirt, but playful in the sailboat tie that matches Milo’s. His dark curls are styled with product, but the breeze twists them in a way that makes me want to comb my fingers through his thick hair. Every time he looks at me, the corner of his mouth curves up.
That amused mouth is one that I would very much like to kiss again. But for real this time . Since our conversation on the dock, we haven’t kissed. Which is mostly okay—if he needs time to decide how much he wants us , that’s what I want, too.
It doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered what it would be like to be good and truly kissed by this version of Colton. The one who wears suits to work, and who swims with Milo even when he’s tired, and who tries with everything in him to put his feelings into words.
A tug on my arm steals my attention away from the best man.
“Annie, look!” Milo points toward the row of chairs across the rose petal dotted aisle. “It’s that guy who said he’d take me on his sailing boat!”
I follow where he points. Clad in suit and tie, Grayson Adair sits with two well-dressed people who must be his parents. I gently lower Milo’s hand and quiet my voice. “It is, buddy. Let’s try not to point, though, okay?”
He arches his back off my lap and peers up at me. “How much longer ? I’m hungry.”
“Only a little while,” I assure him, leaning forward to grab my tote. “How about you sit on your chair and have a little snack? Ember and Graham are going to exchange their vows, so we need to be quiet and listen.”
Those words have little relevance to a four-year-old boy who would rather jump off the dock than sit still. I can’t blame him for that—I wouldn’t expect his attention span to last long. But I will continually nurture the manners Indi has already instilled in him.
Indi .
Just thinking about her makes my chest twinge uncomfortably.
“How about this,” I say, squeezing his knee. Partly out of affection and partly to secure his attention. “Let’s sit still until they start walking back down the aisle. Then we’ll get a bottle of bubbles, and you can blow them. Does that sound good?”
Milo looks unconvinced, but he slides off my lap and grabs the toy sailboat he dropped. He kneels by his empty chair and zooms the boat around on the padded white seat, chin propped on his palm. I hold out a Ziploc bag of goldfish, but he shakes his head. He blows wind noises through his lips while he coasts the boat across my lap, but I steer him back to the seat when he tries to sail it along a woman’s shoulders in the row before us.
“The bride and groom have written their own vows, so it is now that we ask them to share them with us,” the officiant, Mayor Leonard Mason, says. “Graham, take it away.”
I have to toggle my attention between Milo and the ceremony, but I still smile as Graham accepts the microphone. I never could have pictured a more perfect match for Graham than Ember. Her bubbling personality softens his sharp edges, and his no-nonsense life outlook seems to ground her a little. They also make a striking couple appearance-wise, especially today; Graham, in his sharp blue suit with a pink rose boutonniere, and Ember, in a flowy white gown with a floral crown nestled into her dark curls.
“From the moment I saw you five years ago, Ember Lauren Bryant, I knew my life would never be the same.” Graham pauses to smile softly, and he reaches up to tuck a curl behind Ember’s ear. “When I say that you have completely turned my life upside down, I mean that in the most epic, incredible, plot twist kind of way.”
Of course , he would write something bookish. The consideration that went into his vows turns me into a mush.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it for the rest of my life, but you are the sun to me, Lou Lou. The one who makes me smile, the beautiful woman my world orbits around, and the reason my life is so warm. To quote your book—the one all of you should read,” he adds with a pointed look at the attendees. Everyone laughs. “Your love, Ember, is patient, and timeless, and endlessly good. I don’t know how I ever deserved you in the first place, my love, but I promise to spend the rest of my days standing within your beautiful rays.” He pauses to accept the ring from Ember’s nephew, and he kisses her finger after he slips it on. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Well,” Mayor Mason teases, clapping Graham on the shoulder, “that set the bar high for all future grooms, I have to say.”
Merriment murmurs through the chairs, through people young and old, and Graham’s cheeks flush pink as the mic is passed to his bride.
“I was told by my sister, who’s also my matron of honor, that I have to start my vows off by apologizing,” Ember says. Her fingers clasp the mic so tightly they’re white, and her voice wobbles, but she beams up at Graham. “I have to apologize for insulting the project that put us together, but I will never apologize for where it’s led. And I promise I will continue to write love stories almost as incredible as ours.”
Graham’s shoulders shake with laughter, and Ember pauses to turn the page in her tiny pink notebook.
“You, Graham Alexander Del Ray, have shown me the true definition of love,” she continues. She pauses when her lips quiver, and her head tilts to the side as her eyes well up. Graham brushes the pad of his thumb tenderly across her cheek, leaving his hand to cup her jawline, and it must give her the courage she needed. “You are kind, you are gentle, and you are incredibly selfless. You’re also ridiculously handsome. But beyond that, you are the one who constantly supports me and who pushes me to be the best version of myself that I can be. You are my best friend, my business partner, and most of all, you are the man I love, and I vow to love you for the rest of my life.”
She hands the mic back to Mayor Mason. Her sister, Sarah, helps her son hand Ember Graham’s titanium wedding band. Ember’s hand trembles as she slides the ring over Graham’s knuckle, and I sense the way he grounds her when he squeezes her hand.
Mayor Mason brushes at the wrinkled skin beneath his eyes. “The kids these days, am I right? They learn all the mushy gushy stuff from us old geezers, and then they still make it their own.” He shakes his head, winks at the bride and groom, and then sobers. “Well, I guess this means we’re to the part Graham has been waiting for since Ember walked down the aisle, aren’t we?”
Pink that is decidedly not from the hot July sun creeps into Graham’s neck. He laughs, and Ember’s cheeks turn rosy.
It takes significant effort to keep my gaze from wandering to the best man.
“By the power vested in me,” Mayor Mason booms, “I pronounce you as husband and wife. Graham, please kiss your lovely bride.”
The youngest Del Ray brother doesn’t waste a single breath before he slips his ring-adorned hand into the curve of Ember’s waist. His other hand supports the delicate arch of her neck, and he dips her with practiced ease. His slacks-clad thigh presses into the satin of her dress, her hand rests daintily on his forearm, and his dazzling kiss elicits whoops and whistles. His grin twinkles and her cheeks are pinker than the roses in her bouquet when he straightens her, his hand never leaving her lower back.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mayor Mason says cheerfully, “for the first time, and certainly not the last, it is my great honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Graham Del Ray!”
Colton whistles with his fingers, Jordan whoops into cupped hands, Jolene twirls in her blush pink dress, and Sam’s smile is one of undeniable fatherly pride. Milo holds his arms up for me to lift him, and he claps his hands together. When he sees how Colton’s whistling, he tries to imitate it, even though only air puffs through his lips.
I love him.
That truth burning in my chest, I watch Colton escort Sarah Bryant Taylor down the aisle. He turns his head just long enough to blow a kiss in our direction, and my heart somersaults with another truth.
I love him, too.