Chapter Three Noelle
The air is crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and snow, as if the town itself is dressed for the occasion. Outside the chapel’s stained-glass windows, Maple Ridge is cloaked in white, snowflakes drifting lazily from the heavens like blessings. The streets are silent, the world hushed in anticipation of this moment.
My moment.
In the reflection of the antique mirror, I see myself clutching a bouquet of winter roses and eucalyptus. My fingers tremble slightly, tightening around the stems. The dress is everything I’d imagined—lace and satin, soft and timeless, bridging the gap between tradition and dreams. But none of it matters—not the flowers, the candles, or even the glow that fills the room like a fairy tale.
It’s all about him.
Jacob.
He’s waiting for me at the end of the aisle, just steps away from becoming my forever. My breath catches, and a shiver of anticipation courses through me. Two years ago, that grumpy, infuriating man knocked on my wall and barged into my life, and somehow, he’s still the most breathtaking part of it.
“Ready, sweetheart?” Dad’s voice drifts from the doorway, soft but laced with emotion.
I turn to face him, and my throat tightens at the sight. He’s standing tall in his dark suit, but his eyes—shiny with unshed tears—betray the pride he’s trying to keep in check.
“I think so,” I whisper, though my voice wavers, betraying me.
He steps closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and for a fleeting moment, I’m not a bride—I’m his little girl, holding his hand as we cross the town square on Christmas Eve.
“You’ve got this,” he says, his voice thick and low, the way it gets when he’s trying not to cry. “And if you don’t, I’ll go out there and tell Jacob we’re keeping you.”
A shaky laugh escapes me, watery but comforting. “Thanks, Dad, but I think he’d storm in here and take me himself.”
Dad chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re right. That man wouldn’t let anything stop him from marrying you. He adores you.”
“And I adore him.” My voice is soft, reverent, the truth heavy on my tongue in the best way.
The music swells from the chapel, gentle and full of promise, and my stomach flips. It’s time.
Dad offers his arm, and I loop mine through his, my bouquet trembling slightly as we step into the doorway. The sight takes my breath away. The chapel glows with candlelight, warm and intimate, garlands of pine and white roses adorning the pews. The faint scent of cinnamon lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of the season’s magic.
But my eyes find him.
Jacob.
He stands at the end of the aisle, tall and commanding in a classic black suit. His tie matches the soft green of the pine garlands, bringing out the deep warmth in his dark eyes. But it’s not his suit or his tie that steals my breath—it’s the way he looks at me.
Like I’m the only person in the world.
Our gazes lock, and suddenly, the crowd, the music, even the faint click of my heels against the wooden floor—all of it fades. There’s only him. His lips curve into a soft, rare smile, one he saves just for me, and my chest tightens, my pulse quickening.
When Dad and I reach the altar, Jacob steps forward, his hand outstretched. His touch is warm, steady, grounding me in a way that nothing else could.
“Hi,” I whisper, my voice catching.
“Hi,” he replies, his voice low and filled with awe. “You look beautiful, future Mrs. McCallister.”
Dad clears his throat, his emotions barely contained as he places my hand in Jacob’s. “Take care of her,” he says gruffly.
Jacob nods, his gaze never leaving mine. “Always,” he promises, his voice steady and certain, like a vow in itself.
Dad’s eyes soften as he looks at me. “Take care of each other.”
The officiant begins to speak, but the words blur in my mind. My world narrows to Jacob—the way his thumb brushes over mine, the quiet strength in his touch, the depth in his gaze that says everything he feels without a single word.
When it’s time for the vows, Jacob takes a deep breath, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Noelle,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion. “Before you, I didn’t know what it meant to truly live. You’ve taught me to find joy in the smallest things, to appreciate the beauty in moments I used to overlook. You’re my steadiness when life feels overwhelming, my laughter on the hard days, and the place where I feel most like myself. Today, I promise to love you without hesitation, to stand by you through every season, and to never stop trying to be the man you deserve. You’re my everything, and I’m so damn lucky to call you mine.”
Tears spill down my cheeks, and I draw a shaky breath, barely holding it together as it’s my turn.
“Jacob,” I begin, my voice trembling. “You walked into my life when I wasn’t looking for love, and you became everything I didn’t know I needed. You’ve shown me strength and patience, and you’ve taught me how to love with my whole heart. With you, I’ve found a partner, a best friend, and the kind of love I thought only existed in fairy tales. Today, I promise to stand by you, to laugh with you, and to hold you close when life gets hard. You’re my grumpy, beautiful miracle, and I’m so grateful to be yours.”
Jacob’s hand tightens around mine, his jaw flexing as he fights back his own tears.
When the officiant pronounces us husband and wife, Jacob wastes no time. He pulls me close, his lips capturing mine in a kiss so deep and tender, the world seems to stop spinning.
The chapel erupts in applause and cheers, but all I hear is the steady rhythm of his breath, the warmth of his hand against my cheek, and the unspoken promise in the way he whispers against my lips.
“My wife,” he murmurs, possessive and reverent, before kissing me again, harder this time, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that I am his—and he is mine.