Chapter 61 #4
Leah, however, wasn’t having any of it. All I did was nudge her waist-sash half an inch and she slapped my arm like a petulant child.
“Maxine, I swear to god—” she hissed, bouquet rattling from the death-grip she had on the stems. “We’re about to walk!”
“But your bow is crooked,” I whispered back. “Croaked bows won’t do. This is a wedding, Leah!”
Leah’s answering smile was one hundred percent teeth, zero percent joy. “Touch it again and I’ll dump these flowers on your head.”
Fair enough. I realigned my own dress instead, smoothing out wrinkles while the piano picked up down the way.
The rooftop aisle stretched ahead of us in glittering fairy-light glory. White runners, rows of chairs, skyline blazing a deep violet behind Hunter, who looked like she was trying not to hyperventilate up front. I offered her a cheery wave—and got a scowl in return.
Our cue came and I hooked my arm through Leah’s.
She tensed like a cat in a bathtub but kept smiling for the guests.
We stepped forward together and the chatter fell to a hush.
It was fun, I liked strutting, and with Leah at my side it felt like we were two models on a runway.
Her steps were a little more ‘stomp’ than ‘strut’ but that was fine.
I slid her a side-eye, took in her strained, wobbly smile and the way her gaze kept dropping to her feet like she was afraid of tripping and falling flat on her face.
Knowing Leah and her questionable coordination, it was likely, but I was there to catch her if that unfortunate occurrence came to pass.
I tugged at her arm slightly, murmuring under my breath. “You’re doing great.”
She glanced back at me, a quick sweep of her eyes before looking dead ahead again. “Everyone’s staring.”
“Well, yeah. Because we look fabulous.” I turned to spread a smile over the crowd of seated guests, then tilted my head to whisper in her ear. “You’re the prettiest person here.”
“You can’t say that when the bride is right behind us!” she was whisper-screaming again, mortification evident despite the smile she kept plastered on her face.
“The smartest too,” I added for good measure. And sure, maybe it was selfish and a little bit conceited, but to me it was true. In my eyes, Leah was perfect, even if she couldn’t wield a makeup brush to save her life.
She was my exact opposite in almost every single way, but our stark differences were perfectly balanced.
If I was sunshine, Leah was the night sky.
If I was a flower, she was the tree. I could go on making up metaphors forever, but nothing could truly describe how it felt to stand beside her. She was my counterpart, my twin flame.
We’d orbited each other for most of our childhood and then drifted apart. But we’d found each other again, and nothing would separate us now. The rest of our lives would only bring us closer together, and I was perfectly content to spend all of that infinite supply of time by her side.
“Hey,” I moved my lips ever so slightly to whisper again. “This is really nice, don’t you think?”
She offered the barest shrug as we inched toward the end of the aisle. “Yeah, it’s actually not too bad.”
“I was thinking…” I shot her another sidelong glance, clutching my bouquet tighter. “We should do a wedding of our own sometime.”
Leah’s smile remained frozen in place but the flower stems in her bouquet creaked abruptly. “Maxine,” she muttered slowly, “you cannot propose to me at your best friend’s wedding. That’s so incredibly disrespectful.”
“Oh, I’m not proposing,” I lied blithely. “Merely floating the concept. You’d look so pretty, though. Besides, I already have our dresses picked. Actually, I’ve got the whole event planned out. Scrapbook, mood boards, the works. I’m thinking ice sculptures—”
“Later,” she hissed, cheeks pinking under her makeup. “We will talk about this later.”
But her pulse thumped faster where my arm brushed hers, and that blush? Priceless. I grinned, facing forward as we neared the altar. Hunter’s eyes were shiny, Addison was seconds from ugly-crying behind us, and beside me, Leah’s heart hammered like a hummingbird, light and fluttery in my ears.
Later, sure. Later I’d ask properly. For now, I tucked the moment away like it was a rare jewel.
Hell yes, was what she’d said without saying it out loud. And me? I marched her the rest of the way down the aisle with a massive smile on my face, already envisioning the ice sculptures.
Leah
Maxine, perfectly in character, had once again left me blindsided.
Considering our history and how often she’d left me stunned and speechless with her antics in the past, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise at all that she would indirectly propose to me while we were walking down the aisle at someone else's wedding.
It was actually incredibly on brand for her.
Thankfully, I made it to the end of the aisle without exploding.
We took our places on the side of the altar while Ethan guided Addison along behind us. He pecked a small, parting kiss to her cheek before slipping off to the side, and Addison stepped up to stand before Hunter, already sniveling before either of them had spoken a word.
It was beautiful, it was touching, but Maxine had thrown a wrench in my concentration and I fought to keep myself from flushing a brighter shade of red than the one I was currently presenting.
Maxine herself was grinning like the Cheshire cat, and when she met my eyes I had to look away because it did nothing to help soothe the blushing.
Internally, my head was spinning, and my heart was soaring because of course.
Of course I’d marry her. I’d do it in a heartbeat.
But I could also fucking kick her for daring to bring it up when we were supposed to be celebrating someone else tying the knot.
But whatever, fine. Either way, the answer was yes.
The answer was always going to be yes—and she obviously knew that considering the smug smile stretched wide on her face.
I swiftly looked away and made a mental note to force her to re-propose on a date that wasn’t already taken.
By the time I’d come down from the unexpected high, Hunter and Addison had reached their vows.
I watched Hunter’s eyes widen when Addison pulled out what looked like a stained receipt paper, recognition flickering there before they began to water in earnest. Addison’s vows were eloquent, heart-wrenching declarations of love, and Hunter’s weren’t too bad either.
By the time they were done there was not a dry eye on that rooftop, save for the twins who were too busy tormenting Ursula to really pay attention to the monumental moment happening up at the altar.
Caden dashed a hand across his face, bulky shoulder bending slightly like he was appalled to be caught bawling in public. Ethan watched from the sidelines with his bottom lip clenched between his teeth, fighting back emotion while two of his dearest friends tie the knot.
In the crowd, I spotted River and Laurie, both of them watching with tender smiles on their faces and their hands tightly clasped.
Dylan and Amara were seated near the front—Amara openly grinning in delight and Dylan discreetly scrubbing a finger under her eye, catching what I was sure she’d argue was definitely not a teardrop.
Jordan and Sky looked on proudly from the back row, and Sky dipped her head to rest tenderly on the redhead’s shoulder.
Even my grandfather—who scored a complimentary invite because everybody adored him, obviously—was blowing on a hanky like it was his own children up there getting married.
When the vows were finished, Hunter and Addison stood beaming, both of them smiling like someone who’d just been promised the world—or just got everything they ever wanted. Everything they could possibly wish for.
They kissed gently and everybody cheered, and even the twins joined in, whooping and clapping, excited by the sudden commotion.
I met Maxine’s eyes and she smiled back at me.
The sight of it sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach, my heart thumping wild and lively in my chest. I was happy for Hunter and Addison, thrilled that they got their happily ever after, but in that moment, there was only one thought crossing my mind.
I looked at Maxine, matching her smile, and I couldn’t wait to marry that annoying, beautiful, wonderful woman.
Dylan
The reception was lovely up until a point; until the crowds and the chatter proved a little too overwhelming. After speeches and laughter and plenty of clinking drinks, I slipped away to the balcony, watching the festivities from the sidelines.
A quiet presence sidled up beside me, and I didn’t need to turn to know it was Amara.
I could feel her presence like a sixth sense.
My internal compass pointed directly toward her, no matter where I was or how far she was from me.
I knew her by the beat of her heart and her slight intake of breath.
I knew her by scent, by touch, by something deeper.
She stepped into my line of sight with a smile that told me she understood the sudden departure. She knew me too. Better than anyone, sometimes better than I knew myself. She knew me by the shape of my shadows, by the brush of my hand on her cheek.
I leaned an elbow on the railing, looking down at her while she reached out to adjust the flower pinned to my suit.
Tiny white petals, from a cluster of plants we’d grown together, tended to delicately in our rooftop garden.
The garden was in full bloom now, flourishing wild and unruly, spilling over the edge of the roof.
There were so many plants up there, you could barely see the floor. But we liked it that way.