Addison #3
Soft pink. Floaty. Romantic. The kind of dress I used to wear like armor.
Now it just felt pretty. Like something I didn’t have to justify.
Lilly appeared in her robe glowing and anxious and radiant all at once. She grabbed my hands the second she reached me.
“You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” she said. “Because Sawyer is outside and she looks like she’s about to kill someone.”
I blinked. “What?”
Lilly grinned. “I think she’s nervous.”
My heart flipped so hard it almost hurt.
When I finally saw Sawyer waiting in the hallway, suit perfect, hair done in that effortless way that absolutely was not effortless, I stopped breathing.
She looked up.
Her eyes swept over me slowly.
“Jesus,” she murmured.
I laughed, already breathless. “Is that good?”
Sawyer stepped closer, careful not to bump my hair or catch the fabric of my dress. Her gaze dropped to my mouth.
“That’s… really good,” she said.
I swallowed. “You look—”
“Don’t,” she warned softly, her eyes already darkening. “Not right now.”
I laughed, cheeks burning. “Okay.”
Sawyer’s fingers brushed my wrist, subtle and grounding. “You okay?”
I nodded. “You?”
Sawyer let out a breath. “I’m here.”
The ceremony started. The music swelled. I walked down the aisle with my bouquet clutched a little too tightly.
I did my job. I stood beside Lilly. I held her hand when it shook. I smiled at the right moments.
But my eyes kept finding Sawyer.
She sat near the front with her shoulders squared and her hands folded in her lap, her suit sharp against all the softness around her. She looked out of place in the best possible way. Like she had walked into the room and claimed her space without asking.
When her eyes met mine, my chest loosened.
No flinch.
No looking away.
For the first time, there was nothing standing between us except a room full of people who could see exactly what I felt.
After the ceremony, in the swirl of congratulations and photos and flower petals and champagne, my parents approached.
I saw them coming and my body tensed on instinct, some old reflex I hadn’t fully shaken. Sawyer felt it immediately. Her hand slid to the small of my back like an anchor.
My mother smiled, tight at first and then softer. “Addison.”
“Hi,” I said.
My father’s eyes landed on Sawyer and he looked curious. Not cold. Not angry. Just trying to place her in the new story.
“This is Sawyer,” I said, my voice steady. “My girlfriend.”
The word landed clean.
Solid.
Sawyer held out her hand. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
My mother shook it, her expression careful but not cruel. “Nice to meet you too.”
My father followed and shook Sawyer’s hand with a firm grip. “Thank you for being here.”
Sawyer nodded once. “Of course.”
There was no disaster. No explosion.
Just a moment.
And when my mother stepped closer and touched my arm gently, I realized she was trying. Awkwardly. Imperfectly. But trying.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” she said quietly.
I had spent years imagining this conversation. None of those versions had looked like this.
My throat tightened. “I am.”
Her gaze flicked to Sawyer and then back to me. “Okay.”
It wasn’t everything.
But it was something.
And I could work with something.
* * *
At the reception, the lights dimmed, the music rose, and people danced like the world was simple.
Sawyer stayed close. She was still careful with her shoulder, but she didn’t act like she was breakable. She held my hand. Kissed my cheek. Let my friends drag her into photos without complaining once.
And I didn’t flinch.
When I introduced her, I didn’t stumble over the word girlfriend. When someone asked how we met, I didn’t lie.
I watched Sawyer laugh with Lilly. Lilly. And something inside me unclenched that I hadn’t even realized was still holding tight.
Later, when the slow songs started, Sawyer tugged me toward the dance floor with her good hand. “Come here.”
I stepped into her carefully, mindful of her shoulder. Her good hand settled at my waist like it belonged there.
Like it had always belonged there.
We swayed slowly, our bodies close while the room blurred around us in warm light and moving shadows.
Sawyer’s mouth brushed my ear. “You okay?”
I laughed softly. “I keep waiting for something to go wrong.”
Her hand tightened at my waist. “Nothing’s going wrong.”
I swallowed, my eyes burning.
Sawyer tipped her forehead against mine, gentle and sure.
“Look at you,” she murmured. “You’re doing it.”
“I’m doing it,” I whispered back, barely believing it myself.
Her mouth brushed mine. Soft, public, and completely unafraid.
Then she glanced around the room, taking in my friends, my family, and the crowded dance floor before looking back at me.
“I love you,” she whispered like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“I love you too.”
The words felt like a promise.
Her smile softened into something that felt like home. “Good.”
We kept swaying, slow and steady, surrounded by people, music, and light.
For the first time in my life, being seen didn’t feel like danger.
It just felt like breathing.
* * *