Chapter 31 Noelle
Noelle
“I can’t believe you’re wearing a wedding dress and hiking boots,” Shane said, adjusting his tie in the reflection of a food truck window. “And…well, that I’m waiting to walk you down the aisle at a carnival.”
“It’s not a carnival; it’s a cryptid festival,” I said. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not breaking an ankle just to impress your Instagram followers.”
Shane put his hand to his chest in mock offense. “Excuse you. I’m not live-posting. I’m savoring. There’s a difference.”
“Did you do an entire story about the guy in the Mothman outfit who ended up in all our wedding photos?”
Shane sniffed. “That was journalism. I mean…what if it was actually Mothman? You never know around here.”
I rolled my eyes and tugged at the edge of my veil—borrowed from Willow, like half the things I was wearing. The silk clung to my hair like mist, more ethereal than bridal, and it felt exactly right. All of it did, somehow.
We were standing in the park, lights from the Gloaming Festival flickering like fireflies behind the trees. The scent of sweetgrass and woodsmoke drifted through the air, thick with cotton candy and cider. There was festival punch on my lips, sweet and strong.
I turned to him. “You sure you’re okay doing this?”
“Walking you down the aisle like the queerest man in a Hallmark movie? Hell yeah. I’m honored.” His expression shifted—gentler, steadier. “You found your weird. You’re not running anymore.”
“Neither are you,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
“Yeah, well. You always were the brave one.”
My eyes darted around the food truck, where our guests had assembled on the lawn. Festivalgoers looked on, peering at us as if it was all part of the show.
“I don’t know,” I said. “You seemed pretty brave during the rehearsal dinner with Ash.”
Shane flushed, pink blooming up his cheeks. “Okay…he may or may not be planning a trip out to Austin to visit after this is over…”
I grinned so hard it hurt. “You slut.”
“Excuse you,” Shane said primly. “I am a deeply spiritual person who believes in soul connections. Also, have you seen his forearms?”
“I have. You pointed them out during the prayer.”
“Don’t bring God into this,” he whispered, horrified.
“Too late. I already asked Her to bless your hookup.”
The music swelled—Dolly Parton, of course.
Guests turned in their seats.
I swallowed hard. “That’s Dolly,” I said. “Go time.”
“You ready?” Shane asked.
I nodded, unable to get the grin off my face. “I can’t wait.”
He offered me his arm with a flourish, and I looped mine through his. “Let’s go give ‘em a show.”
The music floated through the trees, bright and lilting, and the crowd hushed as we stepped onto the lantern-lit path.
We walked slow, my boots scuffing the grass and his dress shoes catching the glitter of string lights above us.
Somewhere to our left, someone let off a sparkler too early.
To our right, the churro truck was still open for business.
I could smell sugar and cinnamon, hear the rustle of the leaves and the soft hum of insects beyond the lights.
And then I saw him.
Beau Ward.
Standing at the altar, wearing the world’s least formal button-down with the sleeves rolled up, grey slacks, and a look in his eyes that stole the breath right out of my chest.
His jaw ticked.
His throat bobbed.
The whole town could’ve vanished in that moment and I wouldn’t have noticed. All I saw was him.
Shane leaned over just before we reached the first row. “I love you,” he whispered. “And if he hurts you, I will bury him behind the waffle stand.”
I squeezed his arm. “Noted.”
We reached the front.
Beau stepped forward.
Shane kissed my cheek, handed me off, and disappeared with a wink—off to stand beside Delilah, who was already sobbing as if anyone had said a damn word. She had one hand on a bouquet and the other on Milo’s leash, Milo barely holding back the impulse to mug me.
Beau took my hands, his thumbs brushing the backs of my fingers like he needed to remind himself I was real. His mouth curved—barely, softly—and I watched his eyes roam over me like he was seeing sunlight for the first time.
“You’re the prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, voice low and hoarse.
I smiled through the sting in my eyes. “Right back at you.”
June stood beneath a canopy of strung lights, a battered Bible tucked under her arm and a wicked little grin playing at her lips. She was wearing a red dress, the ruby on her finger flickering in the twinkle lights.
She waited until the crowd had settled, then raised her voice—clear, proud, and more grounded than I’d ever heard her. “Welcome,” she said, “to this holy union between a man with more wrenches than social skills and a woman who once tried to make soup in a French press.”
The crowd burst out laughing.
Beau squeezed my fingers, and I didn’t even try to hide the tears in my eyes.
June smiled at us like she meant it.
“I promised Beau I’d keep this short,” she went on, “because y’all know he doesn’t love a fuss.
But I also promised Noelle I’d make it weird enough to be memorable, so here we are.
Between the churro truck and the Mothman cosplayer, under a sky that’s seen more than its share of hauntings, miracles, and moonshine. ”
Laughter again…gentle, happy.
“This marriage,” June said, her tone shifting, “isn’t a new story.
It’s the continuation of one. The joining of two people who already found each other in the mess.
The fastest fall I think I’ve ever seen—but if you know them, it makes sense, doesn’t it?
Because these two…they’re in perfect balance.
Sun and moon, dark and light…golden retriever and black cat. ”
June’s smile softened, her voice dipping lower as the laughter faded. “But even the best matches need their own words. So I’ll step aside now and let them speak for themselves. Noelle?”
I reached back blindly, and Shane handed me my phone like he’d choreographed it like that. My hand was shaking when I pulled it up, already sniffling.
“Sorry…I was going to write these down in real life, but it just…”
“You’re good, baby,” Beau said. “I’ve got you.”
“Shut up or you’re going to make me cry more,” I laughed.
Then I looked at my phone.
And I did my best to put on my radio voice and not cry.
“Beau Ward,” I began, “I don’t know how to tell you everything you’ve meant to me without sounding like I’m already halfway through an episode of Whispers in the Dark.
But you came into my life like some cosmic joke—this good-natured smalltown mechanic who thought Bigfoot was overrated and that I was probably insane.
And maybe I was. Still am. But you made me feel like maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. ”
I glanced up. His eyes were glassy.
“You didn’t try to fix me. You didn’t ask me to explain why the woods make me want to run or why I flinch when I feel safe.
You just…stayed. With your dog and your shop coffee and your steady, quiet heart.
You saw the worst parts of me and called them something worth loving.
You made me believe this town could be home. That I could be home.”
I paused to wipe my cheek. My mascara was running. I didn’t care.
“I vow to keep finding you in the weirdest places—behind the garage, in the sound of wind through trees, in the way my body feels when your hand is on my hip. I vow to say yes, even when I’m scared. I vow to follow you into the wild if you’ll keep walking beside me, even when I get us lost.”
Beau took a breath like it punched him.
June gave him the softest nod.
And then it was his turn.
He didn’t have anything written down. Of course he didn’t. He just looked at me with that slow, aching love in his eyes and started speaking like it was the only thing that mattered.
“Noelle,” he said, voice low and gravel-warm, “I used to think I was meant to live quiet. Fix cars. Keep my head down. Take care of the people who needed me and let the rest of the world pass by. I thought that was enough.”
He reached up and tucked a curl behind my ear.
“Then you showed up like a goddamn lightning storm, and suddenly nothing about my life felt small anymore. You made it feel like living meant something. Like there was still wonder in the world. And I wanted to be worthy of it.”
His throat worked around the next words.
“I don’t know what brought you here. Fate, magic, dumb luck.
But I know what kept you here. We chose each other.
And I’m gonna keep choosing you. Every day.
I vow to be your anchor when you need it and your biggest believer when you don’t.
I vow to hold your hand when it shakes, and your body when it doesn’t.
And I vow to love you like it’s the only thing I was ever made for. ”
The crowd sniffled. Delilah flat-out sobbed.
Even Shane was discreetly dabbing at his eyes with his pocket square.
June, wiping under one eye, cleared her throat. “Well, hell. That was beautiful. Okay then—by the power vested in me by God, community, and the state of Georgia—which, frankly, has no idea what to do with this—I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
She stepped back, her voice softening.
“You may kiss your bride.”
Beau didn’t wait. He caught my face in both hands and kissed me like he’d never stop. Like the night, the town, the trees, the band swelling behind us—all of it was just window dressing for the only thing that mattered.
Us.
And when we finally came up for air, the whole park burst into applause. The bluegrass band hit their first wild note. Lights flared overhead.
And I looked to the edge of the woods, half-expecting to see a shadow I’d been running from for years.
There was nothing.
Just the trees.
Still and quiet.
Like they were letting me go.
Like maybe, for the first time, I was finally safe.