Chapter 26 Lena
LENA
I wake up before my alarm, which is kind of disappointing because today is one of the few days in my life where I'm allowed to be tired on purpose.
Jace is sound asleep across the hallway.
The sunshine on my windowsill is like butter and the same shade of soft gold.
I lie there for a minute and stare at the ceiling, letting the reality land.
I'm getting married today.
If you'd told me that a year ago, I would've laughed in your face and then cried in my car for no reason, which is how I processed most emotions back then. Now I just breathe and let it sit in my chest.
I roll onto my side and look at the other half of the bed.
Gabe isn't here. He didn't sleep over, not because we're acting brand-new, but because we agreed we'd do it the old-fashioned way for one night.
He said he wanted to feel that first look again, clean and sharp.
I told him he was being dramatic. He told me to stop smiling if I meant that.
I'm still smiling.
My phone lights up on the nightstand.
Gabe: You awake?
Me: Yes.
Gabe: I'm already dressed. Don't laugh.
Me: I'm going to laugh.
Gabe: If you laugh, I'm kissing you in front of everyone the second I see you.
Me: You act like that's a punishment.
Three dots appear, then vanish, then appear again.
Gabe: I'm serious, Lena.
I stare at the message, and for a second, I see the man he used to be when he first came back. The one who kept everything locked up tight. The one who thought loving someone was the same as giving them a weapon.
He's not that person anymore.
Neither am I.
Me: I won't laugh. I'll save it for later. I love you.
The reply comes fast.
Gabe: I love you more. I'm on my way to pick up Jace in an hour. I promised him donuts. Don't fight me on it.
I type, Fine, then delete it and type, Get him the sprinkle one, because I'm still his mom and I still have standards.
I push out of bed and pull on my robe. My dress is hanging on the closet door in a garment bag. It isn't huge or shiny but it makes me feel like myself, which is the only thing I wanted.
The kitchen smells faintly like coffee because I set the machine last night like an adult who has learned from her own suffering. I pour a mug and stand at the counter, trying to drink without thinking about every choice I ever made that got me here.
That's the thing about life. Everything can go wrong and you'll still keep going.
Your heart can be broken, but you'll still wake up the next morning and pack lunches and answer emails.
You can carry a kid on your hip and shame in your chest at the same time— and you can build a life in bits and pieces, and it'll still be yours and therefore, amazing.
I hear a soft thump from Jace's room, then the familiar little feet.
He appears in the doorway, hair flattened on one side, pajama shirt twisted, eyes half open. He blinks at me like I'm a confusing math problem. "Mom," he says, voice thick with sleep. "Is it wedding day?"
"Yes," I tell him.
He nods like he has been expecting this, then shuffles closer and presses his forehead into my stomach. He's taller now. His head hits higher. Every week, he does something that makes me realize he's leaving babyhood behind, and it still catches me off guard.
"Are you gonna be Mrs. Gabe?" he asks.
I snort. "That's not his name."
He lifts his head, frowning hard. "Then why do you call him Gabe?"
"Because that's his name," I say, and then I pause because I can see his brain working.
He narrows his eyes. "So your name will be Lena Gabe."
"That's not how it works," I say, trying not to laugh.
Jace sighs like I'm the slow one and shakes his head. "Adults make things too hard."
"You're not wrong," I tell him.
He climbs onto a chair and watches me sip my coffee. "Do I have to wear the suit?"
"Yes."
His face collapses. "But it's itchy."
"It's not itchy," I say.
"It is," he insists. "It touches my neck."
I put my mug down. "Buddy, you wore a dinosaur costume for three hours last week and didn't complain once."
"That was different," he says, serious. "I was a dinosaur."
"Today, you're a ring guard," I tell him. "That's important."
His eyes brighten. "Like a security guy?"
"Exactly," I say. "No one gets past you."
He nods, already convinced he's the most powerful person in town.
A knock comes at the door, and my stomach flips even though I know exactly who it is.
Gabe doesn't come in right away. He always knocks at my house, even now.
It's one of those small things that tells me he understands what this home means to me.
It's mine. It's Jace's. He's been invited in, but he still respects the line.
I open the door, and there he is, holding a pink box in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He's in a dark suit that fits him the way it should, but his hair is still a little damp like he washed it and didn't have the patience to wait for it to dry.
He looks at me like he's trying not to stare.
I look at him and fail immediately.
"Hi," he says.
"Hi," I reply, and my eyes mist over just a little.
Jace pops up behind me and beams at his dad. "Donuts?"
Gabe's mouth twitches. "In the bag. But you gotta brush your teeth after."
Jace grabs the bag like it contains gold and bolts down the hallway.
Gabe steps closer, lowering his voice. "You okay?"
I nod, but my eyes sting anyway. "I'm okay. I'm just… it's a lot."
He reaches out like he's going to touch my cheek, then stops himself, because we agreed. No soft cheating before the ceremony.
So he lowers his hand and does something even worse.
He smiles.
"I'll be there," he murmurs. "All day. You don't have to manage everyone. You don't have to carry the mood. You don't have to smile at anyone you don't want to."
I give him a look. "Are you telling me I can be rude on my wedding day?"
"I'm telling you it's your wedding day," he says, with that crooked little grin that makes my heart skip a beat. "If anyone has a problem, they can talk to me."
Jace runs back in with a donut in his hand and powdered sugar on his chin already. "Mom, can I have two?"
I lift a brow. "No."
Gabe says, "Maybe…"
I turn to him slowly. "Don't start."
He shrugs, innocent. "It's a special day."
Jace grins like he just won. I'm about to argue when another car pulls up outside. I look through the window and see my dad step out.
A year ago, that would've pulled something tight in my chest. The old part of me would've braced for criticism before he even opened his mouth. I would've watched his eyes to see where they landed, and I would've tried to get ahead of the judgment.
Today, I just breathe and open the door.
He walks up the path with a small box in his hand and a stiff posture that tells me he's still learning how to do this. He stops on the porch and looks at Gabe first.
The first time my dad saw Gabe in my living room, he looked like his brain couldn't find the right file to open. He wasn't angry at first. He was confused. Then he got angry because confusion is not something my father used to tolerate.
Now he just nods at Gabe.
"Morning," Dad says.
"Morning to you too," Gabe replies. In the last few months, these two men have rebuilt part of their relationship. Since getting to know Gabe is actually Jace's dad, my father has reconciled with the idea of us in some ways, not so much in some others. It's better than nothing, though.
Dad looks at me next. His eyes soften a little, and that still surprises me. "You ready?"
I shrug. "No. Yes. I don't know."
He gives a short laugh. "That's normal."
I stare at him because I'm still not used to hearing him call anything I do normal.
He clears his throat and holds out the box. "I brought something."
I take it carefully and open it. Inside is a thin gold bracelet with a small charm, nothing flashy. Simple. It's something I can wear every day without feeling like I'm putting on a costume.
"I saw it and thought of you," he says.
There are a lot of things my dad has never said out loud, and I don't expect him to become a new man overnight. But he's been trying. He's been showing up. He's apologized, more than once, and the first time he did it, he looked like it physically hurt.
He has also stopped commenting on my body. He slips sometimes, and when he does, I correct him. He doesn't argue back anymore. He looks embarrassed, then he fixes it.
That's what repair looks like. It's not perfect, because nothing worth trying to fix ever is. "Thank you," I say, voice thick.
He nods once, then looks past me into the house. "Where's Jace?"
"Here," Jace yells, sprinting in with powdered sugar everywhere. "I'm ring security."
Dad blinks. "Ring what?"
"Security," Jace repeats. "Nobody gets the rings."
Dad glances at me like he's asking if this is a real job title.
"It is," I confirm.
Dad exhales through his nose, almost smiling. "Okay, then."
Gabe checks his watch and straightens his cuffs. "I should go. They're waiting on me."
My pulse jumps. This is the part where the day starts moving too fast.
He turns to Jace. "Suit time, buddy."
Jace groans like he's about to go to war.
Gabe crouches and speaks to him quietly, then stands again and meets my eyes.
He holds my gaze for a beat, and I can see everything in it.
The last year. The nights we talked. The day we went to court and watched Tom get sentenced because he couldn't control himself even after that night at the restaurant.
The way Gabe kept his hand on my back when I felt sick from the whole thing.
The restraining order. The fact that Tom tried one last stunt, and it didn't work because Gabe had already locked the doors on him with evidence, witnesses, and a paper trail that couldn't be talked away.
Tom is behind bars now, and I haven't heard his voice in months.
The silence is a gift.
Gabe's voice drops. "I'll see you in a bit."
I nod. "Go."