Chapter 41
“Abigail?”
Abigail startled to find Ava standing over her, her matching green dress shimmering in the lights of the church conference room that they’d transformed into a dressing room to get ready for Lydia and Liam’s wedding.
“Ready for pictures?” Ava asked, holding up her camera.
“Pictures?” Abigail tried to shake herself out of her thoughts.
“I already did the guys.” Ava fiddled with some buttons on the camera. “We’ll do the girls now and then everyone together after the ceremony.”
“Right. Okay.” Abigail pushed wearily to her feet.
She’d barely slept last night. Her thoughts—of the divorce papers, of Simeon’s pleas for her to understand why he hadn’t told her about the kiss with Wendy, of walking down the aisle next to him for the rehearsal but feeling like he was miles away—had refused to let her rest.
Though she’d stayed far on her side of the bed, rather than snuggling into Simeon’s warm arms as she had every night since they’d gotten home, she was pretty sure he hadn’t slept much either.
Part of her had longed to roll closer to him, to tell him that she understood, to ask him to hold her again. But every time she started to, she pictured Wendy standing in front of her, touching her lips as she talked about Simeon’s kiss.
“Are you okay?” Ava lowered her camera and peered at her.
Between the rehearsal last night and getting ready this morning, she’d been asked the same question more than once by every one of her sisters-in-law.
The truth was, she had no idea if she was okay.
But she answered the same way she had every time. “Of course.”
This was Lydia’s day, and she wasn’t going to ruin it. She swiped a smile onto her face and stood.
The moment her eyes fell on Lydia, she felt her smile become real. Her sister-in-law was glowing from the inside out, her dark hair falling over the shoulders of her elegant bridal gown.
Grace helped her finish fastening the veil, and then Lydia made a slow, graceful turn.
“Wow, you’re gorgeous.” Ireland pressed her hands to her cheeks, her own dress protruding adorably over her baby bump. “I love the way the light catches on the beadwork.”
“Amazing,” Abigail agreed, a genuine surge of joy for Lydia filling her.
“I’ll make sure the coast is clear.” Mia pulled the door open just wide enough to slide her slim body through. A few seconds later, she popped back into the room. “All clear. Uncle Simeon is standing guard so my dad doesn’t try to sneak out to see you.”
The other women all laughed, but Abigail swallowed and gripped the back of the nearest chair. If Simeon was in the hallway, there would be no way to avoid him.
They’d taken separate vehicles this morning, since the women needed more time to get ready than the guys, so other than a quick greeting, they hadn’t really spoken much today.
“Come on.” Mia stood at the door and waved them each through, as if directing a crew of spies.
Abigail’s heart ramped up as if she really were a spy as she stepped into the hallway. But it hit the brakes as her eyes fell on not Simeon but Joseph. He snuck a kiss from his wife and gave the rest of them a thumbs-up as they passed.
“Where’s Simeon?” She didn’t realize she’d spoken the words out loud until Joseph answered.
“He had some sort of wardrobe malfunction.”
Abigail stopped. “What kind of malfunction? Does he need help?”
Joseph smiled gently, and Abigail wondered if he knew about the divorce papers—about everything. “Nah. He’s fine. It was just a button that came off, but it turns out that he has mad sewing skills.”
“He does?” Abigail blinked at Joseph. Was this yet another thing she didn’t know about Simeon?
“No.” Joseph laughed. “But Liam’s mom does. It’s all under control.” He waved after the other women. “You’d better go before my wife comes back and carries you away.”
Abigail hesitated a second, then hurried after the other women.
Pictures took longer than they intended, and when they finally finished, they had to scramble into the hallway to line up for the processional. Abigail squinted toward the lobby, but she already knew she wouldn’t find what she was looking for. The groomsmen were lining up in the front of the church and meeting the bridesmaids halfway down the aisle—so she wouldn’t see Simeon until they were in the church.
The music swelled, and Ava started to walk toward the sanctuary door, just as Pastor Calvano had instructed last night.
But Lydia called “Hold on” from her spot at the back of the line.
They all spun toward her, and Lydia laugh-cried. “I just wanted to tell you all how thankful I am for you. I never could have imagined having a family like this. And—well—just thank you.” She wiped her eyes, and Abigail swiped at her own tears. She knew exactly how Lydia felt. Being part of this family was like . . . like knowing you always had a place you belonged.
But apparently she’d been ready to give that all up once.
If it hadn’t been for the accident, maybe she and Simeon would be divorced already. Her tears came harder, and she gulped to get them under control. Ireland had already entered the church, and Abigail was next.
She crossed slowly through the lobby, and then she was standing in the doorway to the sanctuary, gazing down the aisle toward Simeon. His eyes met hers, and her breath caught. That déjà vu feeling slammed into her more powerfully than it ever had before, and she couldn’t move.
She had done this before—walking down the aisle toward Simeon. Not just last night for the rehearsal, but years ago—for their wedding. She couldn’t picture it, couldn’t remember any details. But she could feel it. Like her heart remembered.
“Abigail, you have to go,” Grace whispered from behind her, giving her a gentle nudge.
“Hmm? Oh.”
Simeon was almost to the spot in the aisle where they were supposed to meet, his gaze meeting hers in concern.
Abigail started forward, slowly at first but then picking up speed until she was at his side.
He gave her a tentative but tender smile and tucked her hand against his arm, leading her toward the front of the church.
“Are you okay?” he leaned close to whisper, his fresh scent reinforcing that feeling of déjà vu.
She managed to nod. “I just got that feeling again,” she murmured. “Was it real?”
“Oh, it was real.” Simeon pulled her in closer, his voice thick with emotion.
They’d reached the front of the church, but Simeon didn’t release her arm. Instead he turned her toward him and kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.
“Excuse me,” Levi whispered from right behind them, and Abigail startled. She’d forgotten they weren’t alone.
“I think you’re supposed to keep going.” Levi gestured with his head for Simeon to make his way to the other groomsmen.
Simeon gave Abigail a look that made her heart quiver, then let go and turned toward the groomsmen. Abigail made her way to the line of bridesmaids, Grace and then Mia close behind her.
The moment she was in position, Abigail’s eyes strayed across the church to Simeon. His gaze was locked on hers.
She was barely aware of the change in the music, barely aware of the rustle that went through the church as everyone stood, barely aware of anything or anyone but Simeon, until Liam stepped toward the aisle with an audible “wow” as Lydia approached on Pastor Calvano’s arm.
Abigail laughed along with the rest of the congregation, her eyes traveling from Lydia, radiant in her flowing dress, to Liam, beaming as he took her arm. Abigail looked again to Simeon, whose face shone with joy for his friend and his sister.
As Pastor Calvano stepped into place to begin the ceremony, Abigail forced her attention to her friends. Today was about them, not about her and Simeon.
“The passage Liam and Lydia have chosen for their wedding day is 1 Corinthians 13:4-8,” Pastor Calvano said. He opened the Bible in his hands and read: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”
Pastor Calvano looked from Liam to Lydia. “You know, I must have preached a hundred wedding sermons on these verses over the years. Which doesn’t mean I’m old—just seasoned.” The congregation chuckled, and Abigail’s heart warmed. Pastor Calvano had such a way of setting people at ease.
“The thing that amazes me,” Pastor Calvano continued, “is that every single time I preach on these verses, God shows me something new about them. This time, it’s how unnatural all these attributes of love are. Patience. Kindness. Forgiveness. Humility. Trust. Hope. Those words go against everything in our sinful human nature. Every part of us wants to rebel against them. So how can these verses tell us everything love is—everything we know we’re not—and then go on to say, ‘Love never fails’? I can see it in my own life. I’m sure you can see it in yours. Love fails all the time.”
Abigail’s heart crunched, her eyes skipping to Simeon, whose Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. Was that what had happened to them? Their love had failed?
“So how can Paul tell the Corinthians that love never fails?” Pastor Calvano’s question pulled Abigail’s gaze back to him. “How can I tell you—” He looked at Lydia and Liam. “That love never fails?”
His somber expression transformed into a smile. “You already know the answer. Because there is One love that never fails—God’s love. The One who is the very definition of love sent his only Son into this world to live in perfect love for us. To die in perfect love for us. To forgive our sins. To forgive us for all the times our love has failed. All the times it will fail, including in our marriages. And to give us the strength to forgive one another—to love one another—even through those failures.”
Pastor Calvano’s eyes traveled down the row of groomsmen and then the bridesmaids, and Abigail felt as if they rested right on her. “These verses show us that love isn’t passive. It isn’t something we fall into and out of on a whim. It’s not something that just happens to us. Love is active. It takes work. It takes patience and kindness. It takes forgiveness and perseverance. It takes trust and hope.”
Pastor Calvano faced Lydia and Liam, but Abigail felt herself leaning in to catch every last word.
“I’m not saying it’s always going to be easy.” Pastor Calvano chuckled wryly. “Sometimes it’s going to seem downright impossible. But it’s not. Because God is love. And his perfect love will always be there to sustain us, to grow us, to love us—with a love that never fails. Amen.”
As Pastor Calvano directed Lydia and Liam to exchange rings, Abigail’s eyes sought out Simeon. He was already watching her, his gaze full of earnestness and longing.
Full of love.
Abigail pressed a hand to her chest as she realized: All those things Pastor Calvano had said about love—Simeon had shown every one of them to her. He’d been patient and kind. He’d put her needs ahead of his own, even when it hurt him. And, oh, how had it never occurred to her how much it must have hurt him to receive those divorce papers after the accident? Yet his only concern had been to protect her.
Applause broke out in the church, and Abigail realized that Pastor Calvano had introduced Lydia and Liam as husband and wife.
They started down the aisle, and Abigail waited impatiently for her turn to walk with Simeon.
When they were finally standing face to face, she threw her arms around him. He let out a surprised breath and then his arms were holding her tight.
When he finally let go and they started down the aisle, Abigail couldn’t stop smiling. Love didn’t just happen. Love took work.
And she wanted to do the work—with Simeon.