Chapter 22
JULES
The church doors swing open to a wash of sunlight spilling over ribbons, roses, and every nervous, shining face.
At the back, Maddie catches my arm just as I’m about to slip into the bridesmaids’ line.
“You’re with Calvin,” she says, like it’s a secret she’s been saving for years.
Before I can protest, I’m swept beside him.
“Guess we’re walking together,” he says, calm but unreadable.
His suit is impeccably tailored, but it’s his presence that anchors me. A whisper of cologne. The glint of his watch. The electricity of old history and new ache bristling between our arms.
“Try not to step on my dress,” I murmur, half teasing, half warning, because humor’s still my safest armor.
We wait. The music swells faintly from inside. My mind drifts to late-night dares on the football field, hands brushing in a dark movie theater, the vow I once whispered into his hoodie.
Our arms brush, so lightly it might’ve been nothing. But it isn’t nothing. The air shifts, and my pulse keeps time with the music.
The doors open wider, and we step forward, arms linked and perfectly in sync. Rows of faces watch us. Faces that remember too much. Mrs. Dorsey clutches a handkerchief. Cara is already in place. Riot rocks on his heels beside the minister.
Faith catches my eye from the front pew as we approach the altar, mist already shining in hers. She claps softly, lips shaping a quiet you’ve got this, like I’m still one of her own kids.
At the front, Calvin peels away to join the groomsmen. He glances back, just for a second, like he’s making sure I made it to my spot. I pretend not to notice, but the glance lingers anyway.
The music shifts. On cue, Maddie appears in the doorway, radiant, her arm hooked through her father’s. The wildflower bouquet trembles just slightly in her hands.
As the first chords rise for her walk, my gaze drifts down the rows. And there he is. Evan.
Relief flickers through me, quick and certain. Like proof I’m not imagining him, not exaggerating our place in each other’s lives. He’s here, polished in his suit, that gentle smile in place.
This is the man who knows my coffee order, my laugh when I’m tired, the way I daydream mid-sentence.
For a moment, the sight of him relieves me. Reminds me why we said yes to us.
But even as my chest warms, a hollowness tries to thread its way through it.
The minister’s words wash past in a blur of music and scripture until the vows arrive. Maddie’s cheeks are wet; Riot’s jaw trembles, tears already shining.
“I thought I knew what love was,” Riot begins, voice catching. “A good laugh, a cold beer, a late-night pizza after a long day, someone who rubs your back when you’re not feeling well. But then you walked in, Maddie, and made all of that incomparable.”
He grins toward the front row, his voice wavering. “Except you, Mom.” He laughs through it, wiping at one cheek. “You’re still the first woman I ever loved.”
The crowd chuckles softly, some awe, with laughter rippling through the tears.
“You made me want to be a better version of me, for you. So I promise to love you every day of your life, to hold you through the storms, and to never complain about your endless shelf-color changes.”
He says more, words only she needs, words I’ll never know, but the shape of them is clear in the way the crowd leans closer.
And then, voice breaking and stumbling to the end, Riot says, “You’re my home, Maddie.”
Maddie smiles through her tears, bouquet trembling in her hands. She draws a breath, then begins her vows.
“You’ve always thought you had to be bigger than your mistakes, Riot. But you don’t. I don’t love you because you’re perfect. I love you because you’re messy, and brave, and kind. And because you make my life the kind of adventure I never thought I’d get to live.”
Her voice steadies as she continues.
“I promise to be your calm in all your chaos. To be your partner in every storm. And yes, to keep changing the shelf colors until I finally find the perfect one.”
Laughter ripples through the room. Her voice softens.
“I thank God you chose me. And I’m beyond grateful I get to keep choosing you.”
She says more, but it isn’t the words that stay with me. It’s the way Riot’s eyes shine when he hears them.
The feeling ripples through me, tender and relentless. Not perfect. Not polished. But raw and true. These vows sound less like promises and more like the kind of home you choose.
Across the aisle, Calvin’s gaze brushes mine, saying too many things I’m in no position to hear. I force my eyes back to Evan. He’s sitting in the pews, smiling at me like I’m the only one in the room.
Like I’ve already been chosen.
The crowd erupts as Maddie and Riot seal their vows with a kiss. In Evan’s eyes I catch myself thinking, maybe this is enough.
Maybe this is what choosing someone actually looks like.