Chapter 20
Grace's wedding dress was finally ready.
The boutique called on Thursday morning, and for the first time in weeks, the excitement in her voice wasn't forced. "It's here?"
"It's beautiful," Anya said warmly. "I think you're going to cry."
"I don't cry."
Anya laughed. "That's what every bride says."
Grace hung up smiling. She texted Paige.
Dress pickup Saturday at eleven. Lunch after?
Her sister answered almost immediately.
Wouldn't miss it.
A second message followed.
Just us?
Grace looked at the screen for a moment before replying.
Just us.
No explanation. None was needed.
Saturday morning dawned bright and unexpectedly warm.
The boutique wrapped the gown in layers of tissue before sliding it carefully into a long garment bag embroidered with the store's logo.
Anya zipped it closed and held it out with both hands.
"There she is."
Grace accepted it almost reverently. "It suddenly feels real."
"It usually does around now." Anya smiled. "The planning is almost over."
Grace laughed softly. "And then comes the marriage."
"The important part."
Grace thanked her, balancing the dress carefully over one arm as Paige held the boutique door open. The October air smelled of fallen leaves and distant woodsmoke.
Paige looked at the garment bag. "Want me to carry it?"
Grace hugged it closer. "Absolutely not."
"I figured."
Lunch was exactly what Grace needed. Just sandwiches, soup, and her sister making increasingly outrageous predictions about what married life would actually be like.
"I give Luke three weeks before he starts alphabetizing your pantry."
"He already alphabetized my spices."
Paige stopped chewing. "You're kidding."
"I wish I were."
"My condolences."
Grace laughed so hard she nearly spilled her iced tea.
As they left the restaurant, Paige slipped her arm through Grace's. "You trust him now."
Grace didn't have to ask who she meant.
"I always trusted Luke."
"You know what I mean."
Grace nodded. "I trust us." There was a difference. A month ago, she'd felt as though she was constantly competing with an invisible version of Luke's past.
Now… Now Luke was building something new with her.
Choosing her, deliberately.
Every day.
When Grace pulled into her driveway an hour later, Luke's truck was already there. He climbed out the moment he saw the garment bag. "That's cheating."
Grace grinned. "You can't see it."
"I can see the outline."
"You absolutely cannot."
He reached for the bag. "I'm carrying it."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You promise not to peek?"
He placed one hand dramatically over his heart. "I swear."
She handed it over.
Luke carried it into the house with exaggerated care.
"If anything happens to this dress..."
Grace smiled.
"I know."
"...I'll have to fake my own death."
She laughed. "You really are taking this seriously."
"I am." He carried the dress into the spare bedroom and hung it carefully in the closet before closing the door.
"There." He dusted off his hands.
"I didn't look."
"I'm proud of you."
"I deserve a medal."
They were halfway through doing dishes when Luke's phone buzzed.
He glanced down automatically.
Brooklyn.
Grace saw the name. She looked away just as automatically.
Luke frowned. "It's a text."
"You don't have to tell me."
"I know."
He opened it. His expression didn't change, he simply read it once. Then handed the phone to Grace.
She looked at him. "You don't have to show me."
"I want to."
Grace took the phone.
Brooklyn: Hi. I wanted you both to know that I accepted a position chairing the state fundraising committee next year.
It's going to keep me incredibly busy, so I won’t have so much time to help with the wedding.
I know all the work is almost done anyway.
I think that's probably a good thing. I also wanted to thank you for being honest with me, even when it wasn't easy to hear.
I hope your wedding is everything you want it to be.
Grace read it twice.
Then handed the phone back.
"That's..."
She searched for the word. "Nice."
Luke nodded slowly. "It is."
"You should congratulate her."
"I was thinking the same thing." He typed a short reply.
Congratulations. You'll be great at it.
He looked at Grace. "Anything else?"
Grace thought for a moment. Then shook her head.
"No."
His reply remained exactly that.
Nothing more.
That night, Grace lay with her head against Luke's shoulder while they watched an old movie neither of them was really paying attention to.
Halfway through, Luke muted the television.
"What?"
He looked thoughtful.
"I've been thinking about Brooklyn's text."
Grace waited.
"I think..." He smiled a little. "...I think she's finally moving on."
Grace wanted to believe that.
She really did. "I hope so."
Luke kissed the top of her head. "I do too."
Outside, rain began tapping softly against the windows.
Inside, Grace allowed herself, for the first time in months, to imagine walking down the aisle without wondering whether another woman would somehow find a way to stand between them.
Neither of them knew that, earlier that evening, Brooklyn had received a voicemail.
She listened to it twice before calling back.
"Hello?"
A cheerful female voice answered.
"Brooklyn! Thank goodness. I wasn't sure this was still your number."
Brooklyn frowned.
"It is."
"I'm calling from the alumni committee."
"Oh."
"We're finalizing next month's Distinguished Alumni dinner."
Brooklyn smiled politely.
"How can I help?"
"We're hoping Luke Moretti might agree to present the Community Leadership Award, but we don’t have a current number for him."
The dinner was the week before the wedding. She closed her eyes for just a second. When she opened them again, her expression was composed. "I'd be happy to reach out."
She ended the call. The phone remained in her hand.
Luke had asked for boundaries. She had promised she would respect them. There were at least five other people who could contact him about the award.
Five.
Brooklyn looked at the phone for a long time.
Then, very deliberately...
...she set it down without dialing.
For almost thirty seconds.
Then she picked it up again.
She found Luke's number.
And pressed call.