Chapter 18 Connor
Connor
The wedding photos had taken longer than expected—Alex’s sister Mallory kept making everyone laugh, which meant retakes, which meant Alex getting progressively more impatient. By the time we were released, cocktail hour was winding down and guests were starting to filter toward their tables.
I scanned the room, looking for that green dress, my whole body on high alert until my gaze landed on her in the hallway near the bathrooms. Her expression looked more thoughtful, but otherwise she looked safe.
The wedding planner was herding people toward the reception room, so I wove through the crowd to her, lacing my fingers through hers to find our table.
As we walked, I caught movement in my peripheral vision—Sebastian, still lingering near the bar, watching as we made our way to our table up front, just feet from the sweetheart table where Alex and Grace would sit. A location that said, ‘these people matter.’
Good. Let him see exactly where she belonged.
Victoria and Cruz had already claimed seats. Kate sat beside Cruz, and Nick had left a chair between himself and Kate—maintaining a respectful distance, but I noticed how she leaned toward him when she laughed.
“Connor!” Cruz stood as we approached. “Thought you got lost in the photo marathon.”
I released Hannah’s hand but stayed close, like I couldn’t quite bring myself to let go. “Hannah, this is Kate Martino.” Kate extended her hand with a warm smile. “And Nick, Alex’s brother.”
Nick’s smile, immediate and genuine, made you understand why cameras loved him. Hannah did her best to not look starstruck. “Victoria has been telling me about your Manhattans. Says they’re the best in Saratoga.”
“She exaggerates,” Hannah said.
“I absolutely do not,” Victoria lifted a low ball glass that looked watery, then gestured to the remaining chairs. “Come, sit.”
Mallory arrived in a whirlwind of sparkly gold fabric, dropping into the chair between Kate and Nick like she was completely oblivious to the sexual tension between them that could power a lightbulb factory. Or maybe that’s why she sat there—to use that juice to light up the sequins on her dress.
“Saw you sitting with our mom,” Mallory directed her loud voice across the table at Hannah. “Fair warning, if she hasn’t cornered you yet about Connor’s love life, she will.”
“She already did,” Hannah said.
Kate laughed. “Helen’s a master at the gentle interrogation. Makes you feel like you’re just chatting, and then suddenly you’ve told her your entire life story.”
“That’s exactly what happened,” Hannah said, and the way she and Kate smiled at each other made something settle in me. Like maybe this could work. Like maybe Hannah could fit here, with these people, in this life.
If I wasn’t leaving tomorrow.
Servers brought out salads and conversation flowed around the table. Hannah fit right in, laughing at Cruz’s jokes, asking Kate about her gallery, holding her own with Victoria’s sharp observations.
I watched her over my water glass and tried not to think about how much I wanted this to be real, something permanent. Something that didn’t end when I went back to New York.
“You’re staring,” Cruz said quietly, leaning close.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are. And it’s sweet, but also kind of pathetic.”
“Thanks.”
“Just saying—if you’re going to look at her like that, maybe tell her instead of brooding about it.”
Before I could respond, Alex and Grace made their entrance to thunderous applause, and Mallory stood to give her Maid of Honor speech. She talked about love and hormones and her brother being less of an asshole because of Grace, and the whole room ate it up.
Then it was Nick’s turn.
He stood, buttoning his suit jacket with practiced ease, and I felt the shift in the room’s energy. Movie star charisma was a real thing, apparently.
He talked about mythology and hero’s journeys, about Alex being an unlikely romantic lead. And then he said something that made my chest tight:
“Mallory said that love didn’t fundamentally change them. I disagree. I think once you experience love—twoo wuv—” he did the voice from The Princess Bride, earning laughs, “—you’re fundamentally different from who you were before. You can’t go back.”
Under the table, Hannah’s hand found mine. I squeezed, wondering if she felt it too—that something had shifted between us, that this was more than some convenient arrangement that we could easily walk away from tomorrow.
Nick raised his glass. “To Grace and Alex.”
We drank. Applauded.
And I tried not to think about how much I wanted what they had.
I saw the burgundy blur before I felt the impact.
“Uncle Connor!” Ruby slammed into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I caught my balance, wrapping my arm over her shoulders.
“Hey kiddo, you did great today. World’s best flower girl.”
“Thanks,” she said, releasing her death grip. “Hey, do you play soccer?”
I shook my head, used to her rapid-fire topic changes. “No, why?”
“Because I heard Alex say that the girl you brought was out of your league,” she said, her voice lifting into a question, “but the only league I know is my soccer team.”
I ran my hand over my mouth to hide my smile and looked across the ballroom, where Alex was busy dancing with Grace. “That’s a grown-up way to say that my girlfriend is prettier than I deserve.”
“Oh,” Ruby said, tilting her head. “If you marry her, can I be your flower girl too?”
“It’s too soon to worry about that,” I said, and when she stared at me for a long beat, I added, “But yes, you’re my first choice flower girl.”
She beamed, then grabbed my hand. “Come on, Grace bet that I couldn’t dance with all my uncles before Oma and Opa take me to their house for bedtime.”
I had to hand it to Grace’s clever parenting, keeping Ruby busy with a mission so the newlyweds could actually enjoy their reception. So I let myself be dragged along. “As your favorite uncle, I can’t be the reason you lose.”
“Nah, Elijah’s my favorite, he always sneaks me cookies,” she said, ticking off fingers as we reached the dance floor. She spun to face me, already moving to the music. “And when I danced with Uncle Nick, people took our picture and said it might be in a magazine if Grace says yes!”
“Okay, then I’m happy to help you finish your mission, even if I’m your least favorite.”
“No, that’s Isaac. He makes me go to bed at eight,” she said in disgust, using my arms as a prop to spin. Her chatter continued through the song about how beautiful her twirly-girl dress was, and I made appropriate impressed noises at each demonstration of how the skirt fanned out.
“Can I cut in?” Hannah asked from behind me.
Ruby’s grip tightened. “We need to finish the song, Connor.”
“But don’t you want to meet my girlfriend?”
Ruby paused, then scanned Hannah up and down. “Uncle Connor said you play for a prettier soccer team.” She stuck out her hand like she’d get in trouble if she forgot her manners, adding, “And he said I can be your flower girl when you get married.”
“Ruby!” I hissed, running my hand over my face.
Hannah didn’t miss a beat. “Well you were the best flower girl I’ve ever seen, so it would be my honor.” Ruby’s eyes lit with delight, and she did a lopsided curtsy. “When you’re done, can I have the next dance with Uncle Connor?”
“Of course,” Ruby agreed magnanimously right as the song ended, finally dropping my hand. “Do you see Opa?”
I scanned the ballroom until I found Alex’s dad talking with Mallory near the bar, and pointed Ruby in his direction. She shot off like she’d been launched.
“Fair warning,” I said. “I’m a mediocre dancer at best.”
My hand settled at Hannah’s waist, her hand came to my shoulder, and we fell into an easy rhythm.
“Ruby seemed impressed.”
“I’m very good at standing nearby and holding up my arm for a twirl.” I demonstrated, lifting my arm for Hannah to spin beneath it with a smile.
The song shifted to something slower, and Hannah moved closer, her head near my shoulder.
We swayed together, barely moving, just existing in that small space we’d carved out.
I whispered dry observations about the other guests that made her laugh—Cruz singing directly at Victoria like no one else existed, the Princeton table getting progressively louder, Sebastian still glowering into his drink.
Around us, other couples danced. Alex and Grace, still wrapped in their own world. Victoria and Cruz, moving with elegant grace. And Kate and Nick, maintaining that careful distance they’d had all night, but anyone paying attention could see the loaded glances.
“They’re not very subtle,” Hannah murmured.
I smiled down at her. “Are we?”
She smiled back, soft and a little sad. “The whole point is that we’re not.”
The words settled in my chest, a reminder of our agreement. After tonight, we were done. That’s what we’d said—get through the wedding, and then… what? I’d go back to New York, and we’d pretend tonight hadn’t happened?
I didn’t want that. But I didn’t know how to ask for more without breaking whatever this fragile thing between us was.
The song ended. Another started. We kept dancing until the band announced they were taking a break and other couples started drifting back to their tables. Until there was no good reason to stay on the floor except that neither of us wanted to let go.
“Ready to head home?” I finally asked.
She nodded, and I laced my fingers through hers as we made our way back to the table to grab our things.
I should find Alex, let him know we were leaving. I spotted him near the bar, swaying slightly, deep in conversation with Nick about something that looked serious. Maybe I could just text him later—
“Connor!” Alex’s face lit up when he saw me, and he crossed the distance in three unsteady steps. His hand landed on my shoulder, gripping a little too tight. “You’re not leaving already?”
“We’re pretty tired—”
“But we’ve got the Polaris Suite upstairs for the afterparty.” His words ran together slightly. “You have to come. Please? Just for one drink?”
I held up my hand, still linked with Hannah’s, and tried to telegraph: Dude, I’d rather not watch you get more drunk while I could be taking her home.
He followed my gesture to Hannah, seemed to really see her for the first time, and something in his expression shifted—softer, more vulnerable. “Oh. Right.” He swayed slightly. “I was hoping we could get the gang back together. Like the old days.”
“Another time, I promise,” I said carefully. “Come to New York, we’ll get drinks.”
“I miss you, Connor.” His hand slid from my shoulder, and his eyes were suddenly too bright. Not angry-drunk or sloppy-drunk—just sentimental. “Working with you, yeah, but just… you. My friend. You know?”
“I know, Alex. I miss you too.”
He nodded, looked down at his shoes, then back up with renewed purpose.
“Shots. Let’s do shots before you go.” Before I could object, he was already waving down a server.
“My brother’s tequila. To celebrate that I married the world’s most amazing woman.
” His face softened, all earnest enthusiasm as he wagged a finger in my face.
“You can’t say no to me, it’s my wedding day. ”