Chapter 27 #2
Outside, the air is cooler. Autumn light slides low across the garden as we start down the path toward the larger, permanent glass greenhouse that Gage had built for our wedding. It’s only a few minutes, but it feels longer because I’m desperate to get to him.
Sarah holds my hand on one side while Luna holds my other one, and they chatter excitedly while we walk.
They tell me about the games they played with Gage and his brothers this morning and then move onto the topic of the castle I’m apparently staying in for my honeymoon.
Gage has been highly secretive about the destination, planning a surprise for me.
It seems our daughters are the key to getting information out of my husband.
“He said there’s a dragon,” Luna tells me very seriously. “But don’t be scared. Daddy said it’s friendly.”
“It guards the castle,” Sarah adds. “You and Gage will be safe inside. The dragon won’t let anyone else in.”
“He said that?” I ask. I’m beginning to wonder if there really will be a castle. But also hoping there will be.
They both nod, solemn and smug.
“Well . . . after we asked him like fifty times,” Luna admits. “At first, he said there wasn’t a dragon, but then we explained why there needed to be one.”
“And then he said yes,” Sarah says triumphantly. “So now there’s a dragon.”
“Obviously,” Luna agrees, eyes wide like this is a perfectly normal honeymoon requirement.
I bite back a laugh. “Good. Every honeymoon should have a fire-breathing guardian.”
They both giggle and swing our hands between us as we walk the flower-lined path.
Their dresses whisper against their ankles, curls bouncing, cheeks pink with excitement.
They’ll never remember this moment the way I will.
But god, I hope they feel it forever. The joy.
The magic. The safety. The love that built all of this.
And then we reach the edge of the path where the glass doors of the greenhouse stand open. Luna gasps loudly. Sarah grips my hand tighter. “Is this real?” she whispers.
I feel everything they’re feeling, because inside, it looks like a love spell exploded. My brain tries to process it all at once but just can’t. There’s too much beauty. Too much light. Everything is shimmering and I don’t know if that’s the crystals or my eyes or both.
The aisle is lined with candles in gold and glass.
Flowers spill from every corner—roses in soft blush and ivory, tangled with greenery.
Pale petals are scattered like confetti down the sides of the aisle.
The chandeliers above are strung with crystal garlands that catch the last light of the sun and throw it across the glass walls in flashes of gold and rose.
It’s wild. It’s alive. It’s so far beyond anything I imagined.
I knew Gage was having the glasshouse decorated for the ceremony. But this? This isn’t just decoration. This is my husband’s heart on display.
I try to memorize every detail, but my brain keeps getting stuck on individual candles. There are so many. An unreasonable number of candles. And oh my god, who counts candles at their own wedding? Me, apparently.
“It’s a fairy castle,” Luna breathes.
Tim lets out a quiet sound. “Okay. Nope. I’m emotionally unprepared for this kind of romance.”
You and me both. Except I’m also chemically unprepared.
“He built all of this for you,” Colin says quietly from beside me.
I nod, but I can’t speak. Because feelings. So. Many. Feelings.
Our families are sitting inside, waiting. Beyond them, strings swell, the first notes of the new song I wrote for Gage. The one he doesn’t know I’m walking down the aisle to.
I forget every chaotic second that came before this. The nerves, the smudged mascara, the cookie incident. All of it fades.
Well, not all of it. I still feel like I’m gliding through the world. Still thinking about asking the flowers questions. Still wondering if my skin really is as glittery as I think. But that doesn’t matter. Because Gage is at the end of that aisle.
My forever.
Marin exhales beside me, her eyes glimmering. “Alright,” she murmurs. “Let’s walk this love into the world.”
Then she’s gone, the first to step through the glass doors and into the glow. Her copper dress catches the candlelight, turning her into some kind of fire spirit moving down the aisle, soft petals scattering at her feet.
Luna and Sarah smile up at me, and then they step in front to walk down the aisle first. Tim adjusts his cuff dramatically on my left, muttering something about “holding emotional space and a bouquet at the same time,” while Colin stands steady on my right, a grounding presence.
And then we move.
The doors close behind us, and the world narrows to glass and light and the sound of the wedding song I composed for Gage. Our families rise in a shimmer of movement, and for the first few steps, I have to remind myself to breathe.
Gage is a whole-ass situation in that black tux I definitely didn’t stare at for long enough earlier. Hands clasped in front of him. Shoulders tight.
The second I take my first step, everything in him stills. As if the air stopped existing for him too. His chest rises, deep. Controlled. Then, his throat works once, and knowing him like I do, I know he’s fighting to keep it together. To force his emotions down.
He keeps his eyes firmly on mine and I see the depth of his feelings there. It hits me all at once. That look in his eyes. That love. The weight of what we’ve survived to stand here. And my knees almost give out.
Colin feels it. I know he does, because his hand tightens on mine and he says quietly, “You’ve got this.”
Tim swallows a sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a squeak. “Okay, I didn’t budget for this level of emotional damage.”
I laugh, just barely, and it steadies me.
The girls twirl ahead, scattering petals like tiny angels who have no idea they’re walking me into the rest of my life.
My brothers take every step with me. Two constants who never stopped showing up, even when I didn’t know how to ask. And now they’re giving me away, because they know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Halfway down the aisle, my gaze catches on two faces near the front.
My parents.
They’re sitting together, stiff and careful. My mother’s eyes are already wet. My father’s aren’t. He’s not a man who ever shows emotion.
For a second, the ache inside me flares.
That old familiar wish that they’d been different.
Softer. Safer. More. But then Luna giggles.
Sarah whispers something to her. Tim makes a strangled sound that is probably the beginning of him sobbing for the rest of the night.
Colin squeezes my hand again. And at the end of the aisle, Gage is still there. Waiting.
And I realize I’m okay.
Maybe they’ll never be the parents I needed.
Maybe that’s not the point anymore.
Maybe I’ve stopped needing them to be anything more than they are.
I’ve got my brothers.
I’ve got my girls.
I’ve got this wild, beautiful man who built me a home out of devotion and something that looks a lot like obsession.
And I have his family too. All of them, loud and loving and already mine.
The ache softens into something that almost feels like peace.
I take the final step with Colin and Tim beside me, Luna and Sarah skipping ahead, and every heartbeat in my body answers the same truth when my eyes find Gage again.
He’s my forever.