24. Chapter 24 Harper Wedding #2
I press a hand over my mouth, trying and failing to hold back the smile spreading across my face. Because this is exactly what this wedding was always going to be. Not flawless. Not polished. Real.
Finally, after what feels like an entire lifetime but is probably less than thirty seconds, Smokey decides he’s done making rounds and trots back toward the aisle like nothing happened.
Straight toward Cole.
He sits. Panting proudly. Like he nailed it.
Cole just stares down at him for a second. Then shakes his head, a laugh breaking through his usually controlled expression as he crouches and retrieves the pouch from Smokey’s collar. “Good job,” he mutters dryly.
Smokey barks once in response, clearly pleased with himself.
The crowd chuckles, the tension completely gone now.
And just like that… So are my nerves.
Because if this moment can survive that.
If we can stand here, surrounded by laughter and chaos and people who love us enough to show up exactly as they are. Then we’re going to be okay.
I take a steadying breath, my heart still racing, but for a completely different reason now. Not fear. Joy.
And as Smokey finally settles at the edge of the aisle like the world’s most unreliable ring bearer… I step forward. Ready.
The music shifts softer now, slower, and the world narrows to a single path in front of me. The aisle. For a second, my feet don’t move. Not because I’m unsure. Because I feel everything all at once.
The lights overhead glow warm and steady, brushing gold across the rows of faces turned toward me. I catch flashes of Mrs. Langley dabbing at her eyes, kids leaning forward in their seats, Jett already grinning like he’s about to make a comment he shouldn’t.
And then… I see him. Cole.
Standing at the end of the aisle, as the world has finally given him something he doesn’t want to fight.
He looks like himself, broad shoulders, steady stance, that controlled calm he carries into every fire he walks into.
Except it’s not quite the same. Because when his eyes find mine.
His smile cracks. Not all at once. Not dramatically. Just enough. Enough that I see it. The emotion he doesn’t show anyone else. The disbelief. Something softer underneath all that strength.
And suddenly… I can breathe again.
I take my first step.
The gravel shifts under my shoes, the sound grounding me in the moment. Then another.
Each step pulls me forward, through the light, through the music, through the life I’ve been building piece by piece without fully realizing it.
I won't look down again. I don’t need to. Because my focus is locked on him.
Halfway down the aisle, the nerves try to come back. A flicker and a whisper of all the things that could go wrong.
What if this is too much? What if I don’t deserve this? What if…
No.
I press my hand lightly to my stomach as I walk, grounding myself again.
We’re not doing that. Not today. Because this isn’t about fear. It’s about choice, and I chose him with every step closer.
The music fades just slightly, like even it knows this moment belongs to something quieter, something deeper.
When I reach the front, everything slows. The world softens at the edges until it’s just him. Just us.
Cole exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.
“Hi,” he says, low enough that only I hear it. My lips curve despite everything. “Hi.”
His gaze drops for a fraction of a second to my stomach, then back to my eyes, and the look there…
It undoes me. Not because it’s intense. Because it’s certain.
Like he never doubted this for a second. Like I’ve always been standing here. Waiting for him.
“You’re…” He trails off, shaking his head slightly, like the words aren’t cooperating.
“Late?” I offer softly.
A huff of breath escapes him, half laugh, half disbelief. “Perfect,” he corrects.
The word lands somewhere deep in my chest, settling there like it belongs.
I don’t cry. I expect to. But instead, I feel… steady.
Like everything that’s happened, every mistake, every fear, every moment I thought I had to do this alone has led me exactly here. To him. To this.
The officiant clears his throat gently, pulling the world back into place around us.
But I don’t look away. I don’t let go of the moment. Because I know what it means. I know how hard we fought to get here. For the first time in a long time… I don’t feel like I’m bracing for something to fall apart. I feel like I’m stepping into something that’s finally strong enough to hold.
The officiant opens his mouth.
And then…
“BWA-KAAAW!”
The sound splits the air so suddenly I flinch.
A blur of feathers launches from somewhere near the fence line, wings beating wildly as General Tso storms into the ceremony like he owns it.
“Oh my” someone gasps.
He lands hard on the top rail of the fence just off to the side of the aisle, claws scraping wood, chest puffed out like he’s been personally invited to announce this moment.
And then he does it again.
“BWA-KAAAW!”
Louder. Prouder. Absolutely unhinged.
For one second, everything freezes. The officiant. The crowd. Even me, and then laughter explodes.
It rolls through the guests in waves, people leaning into each other, wiping their eyes, completely undone by the absurdity of it.
Jett bends over, clutching his stomach. “Of course, the rooster shows up,” he wheezes.
“Perfect timing,” Beau and Holly mutter dryly.
Nash and Tammy just shake their heads like they saw this coming and aren’t surprised.
I press my lips together, trying not to laugh and failing. Because General Tso is still there.
Still crowing like he’s announcing us to the entire county. Still completely committed to whatever role he thinks he has in this wedding.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, my shoulders shaking.
Cole exhales beside me, and when I glance at him, he’s laughing. Not the quiet, controlled version. Not the restrained, barely-there smirk he usually gives. Full, open, and unfiltered. Something about that breaks whatever last bit of tension was left inside me.
Because this is us. This is our life. It's a little chaotic, a little unpredictable, and somehow… perfect anyway.
General Tso flaps his wings again, hopping slightly on the rail like he’s trying to get a better view.
“Someone get him down,” the officiant murmurs, though there’s laughter in his voice now, too.
“Nope,” Jett calls. “He’s part of the ceremony now.”
More laughter. The kind that settles instead of disrupts. The kind that makes everything feel lighter and easier.
Cole leans slightly closer, his voice low just for me. “Think he wants to give a speech?”
I snort softly. “He probably has one prepared.” “Great,” he mutters. “I’m being upstaged by a rooster.”
“You’re handling it well,” I whisper back.