Chapter 5
5
KATRINA
A ddison and I walk briskly down the aisle together, our heels in perfect sync as we take our places near the front of the chapel on the bride’s side. Technically, we’re both bridesmaids, but Marla asked us to play her down the aisle—and who would say no to that?
Also, I rarely get the chance to play my violin anymore, so I jumped at the opportunity to keep my skills sharp.
My fingers tingle with a familiar excitement as I settle onto my stool, resting my instrument gently against my thigh, the bow clasped in my other hand. I adjust my music stand, my sheet music neatly arranged, though unnecessary. We practiced this week until the notes were second nature. We hold our position in silence, waiting for the signal from Harvey at the back of the chapel.
As I wait, I scan the crowd. Familiar faces smile back at me, including Kingston and Fiona in the front row, the ever-loyal Milly by their side. But there are plenty of unfamiliar faces, too. Jonah and Marla argued for a smaller wedding, but there are just certain obligations a Botsford event must fulfill. The bride’s side is small, with only a few of her friends from work and school. The rest of the chapel is filled with longtime Botsford business associates and extended family.
I briefly meet the gaze of Ian Botsford, Jonah’s cousin from Chicago. He gives me a sly wink, which I accept politely before quickly shifting my focus elsewhere.
“Damn,” Addison mutters teasingly in my ear. “Cutie rich boy has eyes for you.”
“I noticed,” I murmur, uninterested, as I glance over at her.
Addison, ever the inquisitive one, looks back with a raised eyebrow. Her acoustic guitar is slung across her body, held firmly in place by a white leather strap.
“I’m fine, Addison,” I say, cutting off the obvious question in her eyes.
“I didn’t say anything,” she says.
“You were about to.”
“What happened last night?”
“See?”
She doesn’t back down, her eyes trained on mine, unblinking, as if trying to peer inside my head.
“Nothing,” I say, sighing. “Nothing happened. I drank a little too much wine at Marla’s party, stumbled back to my room?—”
“When you ran into Jonah?”
“Maybe.” My lips press together, a hard line. “I don’t really remember.”
“You were crying.”
“I do that when I drink. That’s actually why I don’t like to drink. But somebody kept refilling my glass.” I send her a pointed look.
“Those weren’t drunk-girl tears, Kat.” Her voice softens, but there’s still an edge of concern. “Those were heartbroken-girl tears.”
I say nothing. I can’t.
“Katrina,” she says gently, her tone shifting. “I didn’t know you still had feelings for him.”
I exhale slowly, trying to clear the tension in my chest as Harvey waves at us from the back of the room.
“The show goes on, Addison,” I reply, propping my violin beneath my chin.
Addison wants to say more, but she holds back, her fingers light on her strings.
Seconds later, the room fills with the soft strum of her guitar, and the crowd’s chatter fades into quiet whispers of anticipation. Signaled by the music, Jonah and Knox step out onto the altar, the officiant a step ahead of them: Stella Walsh, the Botsford family lawyer and lifelong family friend.
Always composed, Stella is practically glowing today, her smile as warm as the sun streaming through the stained glass windows above. As the three of them settle near the front, she leans over and whispers something into Jonah’s ear that makes him grin widely. He mouths a silent thank you before accepting a light tap on his clean-shaven cheek.
Before she steps back, Knox leans in and whispers something as well, prompting an instant eye-roll from Stella. She shifts back into place, and Jonah pats my brother’s arm. Knox shrugs before stepping back, the crowd humming with amusement over the mysterious exchange.
All the while, I watch Jonah, my breath tight in my chest. Perfectly coiffed, he looks almost unrecognizable in his black suit. His usual navy blue beanie is absent. A navy blue tie adds a touch of color instead. A golden handkerchief is tucked into his breast pocket, and on the other side, a quarter-note pin—the only visible piece of his music passion—gleams in the light.
Harvey opens the wide double doors behind us, and I ready my bow against the strings. My first notes of Canon in D echo through the room, blending smoothly with Addison’s guitar. A traditional choice, but one I would have chosen myself. It carries through the space, filling the silence with anticipation, setting the stage for everything that comes next.
Bronson and Jordan walk through the doors first. She looks absolutely stunning in her blue dress, her long hair cascading over one shoulder. Beside her, Bronson looks dapper as all hell in his suit. While she grins, he keeps a straight face, his gaze fixed ahead until he steals a quick glance at her. In that moment, his stoic expression cracks, and love and adoration for her floods his face.
A few feet behind them, Ira and Veronica march in. Veterans of armed forces, they’re no strangers to pageantry and tradition. They walk with heads held high, shoulders square and taut, their steps perfectly synchronized.
Then, the exact opposite. Hayden and Penelope drift in, their movements unsteady as they fight back giggles. Penelope tries to keep her head held high, resisting the urge to glance down at the floor, as if it might disappear beneath her feet. Hayden’s handsome chin pops into the air, an Ira-ribbing grin that sends ripples of laughter through the crowd.
As I watch the procession unfold, a strange sensation prickles at the base of my neck, a feeling as though someone is watching me. I scan the crowd, but everyone’s attention is fixed on the aisle, on the unfolding moments. But the feeling lingers, subtle but insistent. I shake it off, focusing on the next pair stepping down.
Next come Graham and Jennifer. They eloped in this very chapel a few years ago, and it’s written all over their faces as they walk down the aisle together. Their expressions are steady, bright with nostalgia, each step filled with a quiet, shared memory. For a moment, their eyes meet. Graham mouths I love you , and Jennifer’s pink lips curl into a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.
Finally, Angie enters alone, pulling double duty as both the maid of honor and the mother of the bride. Tall and radiant, she practically floats down the aisle, her smile full of pride and joy. Halfway down, she glances toward a late-twenty-something man sitting at the end of a pew; her smile widening as she winks at him. The blush creeping up his neck only makes her smile grow.
When she reaches the front, Jonah steps down to greet her with a quick kiss on the cheek. He whispers something, and she playfully slaps his arm before breaking away to take her place at the front of the line across from him and the groomsmen.
Once they part ways, a soft wave of smiles ripples through the crowd as the twin ring bearers step in—Marla’s little brothers, Scotty and Dave. They look adorable in their matching black suits and navy blue ties, each holding a tiny blue pillow. The bride’s ring rests on Scotty’s, the groom’s on Dave’s, both secured with golden ribbons.
Though they’re seven years old and perfectly capable of walking down the aisle on their own, Harvey follows behind them, just in case.
When they reach the front, Jonah steps forward again, arms wide, to pull them into a brotherly embrace. He adores those boys as much as they adore him.
Knox takes the rings, and the two boys turn around, guided by Harvey to their seats in the front row with Milly. Harvey slips into the pew behind them, settling next to August, Chrissy, and Harmony, who snatches the golden handkerchief from his front pocket to dab her already glistening eyes.
The next moment is met with adoring gasps as little Michelle Botsford, Ira and Veronica’s daughter, enters. She’s a vision in her tiny blue and gold dress, her basket of colorful flower petals in hand. At only four years old, she’s escorted by her nanny, Derrick. He gives her the space to do her important job while staying close enough to whisper, reminding her not to drop too many petals in one place—just like they practiced.
I steal a glance at Ira up front, his bearded face grinning with pride. As Michelle reaches the front, her basket now empty, Jonah and Ira kneel before her. They hug her, praising her for doing such a great job before Derrick guides her away. They quickly take their seats next to Milly and the twins—the two of them more than qualified to wrangle all three of the kids together.
Then, Jonah stands tall at the altar, and a moment of quiet calm settles over the chapel.
As we practiced, Addison and I exchange a look. She gives a subtle nod, and we count down the beats together. At the perfect moment, we seamlessly shift the music to the next song.
Here Comes the Bride.
Everyone rises and turns to face the double doors as they swing open once again.
On Marla.
She stands in the doorway in her white dress, a perfect vision of elegance. Oliver stands beside her, gently cradling one of her arms while she clutches a bouquet of dark blue roses in the other.
For a moment, time stills. No one moves.
Jonah inhales sharply, his mouth slackening as Marla takes her first trembling steps forward. Knox places a steady hand on his shoulder, but it does little to ease the shimmer of tears in Jonah’s eyes.
Even my romance novel-loving heart lurches at the sight. To be apart for so long, to finally see each other again like this—it’s a raw, beautiful thing. I can only imagine the flood of emotion they must be feeling, how the love between them is practically bursting in the air.
My fingers tremble slightly. I sit straighter on my stool, focusing all my energy on the task at hand, not missing a note. The music fills the chapel; the melody flowing like a river as Marla and Oliver move forward, their steps stretching out like a dream. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, her cheeks already wet with tears, visible through the veil.
Unable to remain still a second longer, Jonah steps forward to meet her before she reaches the altar. Marla breaks away from Oliver’s steady hands and rushes into his open arms, almost collapsing into him, inspiring a wave of shouts and applause throughout the chapel.
Oliver takes his time catching up, not wanting to interrupt the moment. When he finally arrives, he rests a gentle hand on Jonah’s shoulder. Jonah lifts his head, but his arms stay locked around Marla, unwilling to let her go just yet. She chuckles softly, her words lost beneath the music, but whatever she says makes him smile. He nods and reluctantly releases her, shifting back with her to stand together.
Oliver steps in, straightening Jonah’s lapel and adjusting Marla’s crumpled veil with careful hands. Jonah and Marla mouth their thanks, and he flashes them a perfect smile before stepping back to stand with the groomsmen.
Together, Jonah and Marla approach the altar. Addison gives me another nudging look, and with an easy nod, we seamlessly transition into the final notes of the song. The sound lingers in the air, echoing softly as we place our instruments back on their stands.
We scoop up the flower bouquets sitting beside them and walk to join the other bridesmaids.
I stand last in line, far from the happy couple, and hold my breath.
“Dearly beloved,” Stella begins, her authoritative voice carrying through the room. “Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Marla Gorchinsky and Jonah Botsford.”
I go numb.
Love.
Honor.
Cherish.
It hurts. It really hurts.
Still, I watch, feeling the weight of it all more deeply than I expected. I knew this moment would come. I’ve known for so long. I helped plan it, I kept my promises, and tried to stifle the hope inside me that maybe—just maybe—something would change. That Jonah would look up, see me, really see me. Not just his best friend’s little sister, not the silly, broken girl who needed saving, who needed help setting up a bank account and buying her own clothes after running away from the only home she ever knew.
The girl who didn’t know how to do anything. Not even kiss.
Until the night she asked her brother’s best friend to teach her how.
But a kiss is just a kiss.
It was never going to be me.
Because I was never his muse.
I take a deep breath, forcing some of the numbness from my chest, exhaling slowly.
Jonah was there for me. I’ll be here for him now.
For a few blissful moments, the heartache fades, and I watch as one of my oldest friends marries his muse.
I watch as they repeat their vows with trembling voices. As Knox jokingly pretends to have misplaced the rings before passing them off with a wink and a grin. As Jonah rolls back Marla’s veil, exposing her beautiful face, their eyes full of love.
“I do,” they say.
And I hold my peace.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Stella says, smiling, blinking away tears. “Jonah… eh, you know what to do.”
A ripple of laughter flows through the crowd as Jonah cups Marla’s face, kissing her softly. The applause erupts, even from me. But as Jonah tries to pull away, Marla grips his tie and pulls him back for a deeper kiss.
Addison turns around, quickly dabbing her eyes before nodding at me—our final cue. We step back from the line and return to our instruments.
I settle on my stool, my violin resting comfortably under my chin.
3-2-1…
The chapel fills with the sound of music again, with a song familiar to all Criminal Records fans.
Marla’s head swivels in our direction. She gasps, her laughter ringing out, bright and full of joy, as we play a somewhat refined version of her favorite song.
Down down baby, all the way.
Down down baby, whadya say?
Jonah takes her hand, and together they hop down the aisle, breaking into a happy run.
Husband and wife.
‘Til death do they part.