36. Lucy #3
"I am aware."
She inhaled through her nose again.
Ty stepped forward. "It was my fault."
"No, it wasn't," I jumped in.
Vivienne touched two fingers to her headset. "Bring the sculpture in through service. Place it behind the linen screen until Bea's entrance. Keep the broken ear chilled. We will angle the damaged side toward the greenery."
One of Arlo's staff nodded like he had just received military orders.
Vivienne's gaze returned to me. "You need to change."
"I have clothes in Arlo's office."
"Go."
Ty moved toward the truck bed, reaching for my hand. He helped me down carefully. My ruined heel hit the pavement, slipped slightly, and his other hand came to my waist.
The service door closed behind Vivienne and the staff, leaving us alone beside Betsy in the warm evening light.
Water dripped from the hem of my dress onto the pavement. Somewhere inside North Line, someone laughed. The rehearsal dinner waited with flowers and candles and people who had no idea that my life had just rearranged itself in the back of an old pickup.
Ty's thumb brushed once over my knuckles. "Lucy.”
Whatever he saw in my face made his expression change. The humor softened. The caution stayed, but beneath it was something else. Hope, maybe. Want. The kind of ache a person carried carefully because they had learned what happened when they handled love like it could not break.
He moved first. Just a tilt toward me. A question made of inches.
My heart answered before my fear could.
His eyes dropped to my mouth.
My breath caught.
For once, I did not step back.
The door behind us flew open.
"Guys!" Bobby shouted, wild-eyed and out of breath. "Vivienne says if you miss entrances, she is going to kill you both with her bare hands and I think she means it."
Ty's eyes closed.
I stepped back so fast my wet heel squeaked against the pavement.
Bobby blinked between us. "Did I interrupt something?"
"No." Ty cleared his throat. "Just finished the Frozen Bento crisis."
"Right." Bobby nodded. "Great. Love that. Lucy, Bea is asking why everyone keeps saying the word ear. Buzz, Alois is pacing."
Ty looked at me again.
The almost-kiss still hung there, unfinished and alive.
"You should go," Ty muttered.
Neither of us moved.
Bobby pointed toward the door. "I am begging, as a man with no power here."
I gathered what remained of my dignity, which was mostly damp and making a sloshing sound in one shoe, and hurried inside.
Arlo's office had become louder in my absence.
Bea was standing now, one hand on her belly, the other braced against Lo's arm while Freya tried to block her view of the hallway with her body.
"Why are you wet?" Bea demanded the second I entered.
"I had a disagreement with art."
Micah's eyes went wide. "Oh my God."
Lo put a hand over her mouth.
Freya stared at my dress. "That was a beautiful outfit."
"Lucy." Bea looked me up and down, then narrowed her eyes. "What happened? You look like you were baptized by a cocktail luge."
"That is not far off."
Lo stepped forward, already reaching for the garment bag on the sofa. "Emergency clothes?"
"My sweats and tank are in Arlo's bathroom from earlier."
"You are wearing sweats to the rehearsal dinner?" Micah asked.
I shrugged. "At least it’s dry."
I changed as quickly as a woman could change while damp, emotionally unstable, and operating under the knowledge that she had nearly kissed the love of her life next to a truck after transporting a one-eared ice cat across town.
The black dress peeled off with a tragic sound.
My tights were beyond rescue. My heels sat on the tile like beautiful casualties.
I scrubbed beneath my eyes with a towel, gave up on fully fixing my makeup, and pulled on the soft gray sweatpants and black tank top I had worn to North Line that morning before changing for dinner.
My hair was still half-curled, half-wrecked, and drying into something that suggested I had fought weather and lost.
I looked in the mirror.
For a second, I expected to feel embarrassed.
I looked ridiculous.
I also looked like I had done something. Saved something. Chosen something.
When I stepped back into Arlo's office, the room went quiet.
Then Bea's mouth trembled.
"Do not cry," I warned.
"I am pregnant and you look like you were attacked by my wedding."
"Accurate."
Lo wiped at her own eyes, though hers were from mirth. "You look adorable."
Vivienne appeared in the doorway. "It is time."
Bea straightened, and every woman in the room changed with her. Lo smoothed her dress. Freya checked Bea's hair. Micah lifted the hem of Bea's gown away from the floor. Vivienne gave one sharp nod, satisfied.
The private mezzanine at North Line glowed when we reached it.
Arlo had outdone himself. Warm light spilled over long tables dressed in soft linens and low flowers.
Candles flickered against exposed brick.
The bar gleamed in the background. The room smelled like rosemary, butter, citrus, and something rich from the kitchen that made my stomach remember I had not eaten since breakfast.
Everyone was gathered near the entrance for the wedding-party arrivals.
Ezra stood beside Lo's empty place, wearing a dark suit and the expression of a man pretending he was not emotional because his family had learned to weaponize observation.
Rafa stood near the front, hands clasped, eyes already bright.
Alois was impossible to miss, tall and still and visibly holding himself together through sheer force of will.
The Frosthawks filled one side of the room with various degrees of inappropriate anticipation.
Ty stood near Bobby. His tie was on now, badly.
Then, before anyone else could decide how to react, he gave a sharp, playful whistle.
The room turned.
I stopped in the doorway in my sweatpants and tank top, lifted one hand like a pageant queen, and said, "You're welcome."
For half a second, silence held. Then the room erupted.
Someone clapped. Someone else wolf-whistled. Bobby shouted, "Hero behavior!" from the groomsmen line. A Frosthawk I could not see yelled, "Formal sweats!" and another answered, "That's fashion!"
My father stared at me, then closed his eyes like he was counting to ten.
Arlo, standing near the bar, laughed so hard he had to brace a hand on the counter.
Lo stepped in behind me, radiant and unhelpful. "She saved the day."
"I saved part of the day," I corrected.
Vivienne's voice cut through, whisper-yelling, "Places."
The staff pulled the linen screen away. Frozen Bento stood in the corner beneath soft light and greenery, massive and clear and absurdly majestic.
The side with the missing ear had been angled away, the broken piece tucked discreetly into an ice tray at the base like a secret only the guilty could see.
Bea saw him. Her hands flew to her mouth.
Alois turned toward her instantly, alert to any possible distress.
But Bea laughed, wet, stunned, and delighted. "Oh my God," she whispered. "They got the scowl exactly right."
Rafa covered his mouth with one hand.
Bea looked at him. "Pai."
He tried to smile and failed beautifully. "I thought it would make you happy."
"It does." Her voice broke. "It's ridiculous."
"Yes," Rafa chuckled, tears shining in his eyes. "But he is your ridiculous cat."
Alois put one careful hand on Bea's back, his own face wrecked in that quiet way of his, like watching someone love Bea well cost him every defense he had.
Rafa turned then, found me near the doorway, and crossed the room. The teasing quieted. I straightened automatically, suddenly aware again that I was wearing sweats in a room full of formalwear.
Rafa took my hands in both of his. They were warm. His eyes were not steady. "Thank you," he said.
My throat tightened. "It was not just me."
"I know." His grip held. "But you brought it here."
I smiled. "Bento gave us some trouble."
The room warmed around the mess.
No one looked at me like I had ruined anything. No one looked at Frozen Bento like it was less beautiful because it had arrived damaged and melting. If anything, the room loved it more. Loved the story more. Loved Bea's laugh, Rafa's tears, Ty's terrible whistle, my ridiculous entrance.
For so long, I had believed the mess was the thing to hide.
The wet dress. The broken ear. The feeling that arrived before I had agreed to it. The love I had tried to manage into something smaller and safer.
But standing there in Arlo's private mezzanine, wearing sweatpants while candles flickered over flowers as a one-eared ice cat judged us all, I watched the mess become part of the beauty.