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Moisture fills his eyes, warming me straight to my bones. If there was ever any doubt that this is the man for Annabelle–there wasn’t–then it would be erased ten-fold at the look on his face. Nerves melt away like they were never there, overtaken by a devoted and deep state of love and admiration.
He can’t stop the torrent of tears, and neither can she, as their eyes connect through a room full of people.
It’s beautiful.
As she reaches him, my father placing her hand into Ethan’s in a symbolic moment of giving away his daughter to the next man who is charged with keeping her safe, the officiant's voice booms through the venue, a deep and resonant tide that pulls us all into the current of Annabelle and Ethan's love story. They stand before one another, hands clasped, eyes glazed with tears and joy. My sister, in her gown of ivory and lace, is ethereal–like a dream spun from the threads of pure happiness.
"Annabelle, do you take Ethan to be your lawfully wedded husband..." The words ripple out, but I'm only half-listening, my attention snagged by the trio of heartbeats that sync with mine.
"Forever and always," Annabelle vows, slipping a band onto Ethan's finger–a circle of promise that gleams even in the soft, filtered light.
"By the power vested in me, I name you man and wife. You may now-" The officiant doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Ethan is all over Annabelle, drawing chuckles and cheers from the large gathering as they put the final seal on their union.
* * *
At the reception, the festivities are in full swing, and I find myself adrift in a sea of congratulations and champagne flutes. But it's the quiet anchor of Wyatt's hand at the small of my back that steadies me. His fingers draw invisible patterns across the fabric of my dress, a private Morse code that spells out his longing in a room crowded with witnesses.
"Look at you, dazzling as ever," he murmurs when we're finally alone in the corner, his voice a velvet whisper that sends shivers dancing up my spine.
"Only because I can see myself in your eyes," I tease, leaning into his solidity.
Wilder catches my eye from across the room, his gaze electric and charged with an unspoken challenge. He raises his glass to me, a silent toast that says tonight will be anything but predictable. I toss him a wink–my own brand of dare–and watch as his smile widens, a testament to the adventures that await.
"Careful, Kat," Wilder calls over, a playful drawl threaded with the promise of later escapades. "You might just outshine the bride."
"Wouldn't dream of it. You take that back!" I snipe back, but our shared laughter belies the levity.
Emrys finds me as the evening wanes, his presence magnetic. His hand brushes against mine, casual yet deliberate. Our fingers entwine, a secret held within our palms.
"Your sister looks happy," he observes, a note of earnest affection underscoring his words.
"She sure does," I reply, eyeing the couple of the day as they forget the room around them exists and stare into each other’s eyes.
"So do you," Emrys says, drawing my attention as his gaze holds mine captive. In that one look, there's a world of promises yet to be fulfilled, and I know, without doubt, that each will be savored in its own time.
The music swells, a pulsating rhythm that beckons the wedding guests to the dance floor like moths to a flame. I watch as Annabelle and Ethan share their first dance, laughter bubbling from my lips as he dips her, a touch dramatic but oh so right for them. The room is alive with the clinking of glasses, the rustle of silk dresses, and the soft shuffle of dancing feet.
"May I?" Wilder's voice is smooth as honeyed whiskey, his hand held out to me, eyes gleaming with that familiar thrill-seeking spark.
"Thought you'd never ask," I reply, placing my hand in his. As we step onto the dance floor, I can't help but admire how the lights catch the many shades and depth to the blue in his eyes.
He leads me in a dance that's more about fun than formality. Our movements are bold and unrestrained, matching the wildness that always seems to simmer between us. He spins me out and then pulls me back, leaving me breathless with laughter. It's a dance that speaks of zipline adventures and impromptu road trips–of living on the edge and loving every second of it.
As the song fades, Wilder dips me low, and for a moment, the room tilts on its axis. "Never a dull moment with you, Kat," he whispers against my ear before righting me with a grin.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," I shoot back, my french-tipped nails grazing his shoulder.
The moment Wilder releases me, Wyatt steps forward, his demeanor calm and steady like a lighthouse beacon guiding ships home. His hand encases mine, and we move together in a slow, measured waltz. Where Wilder is chaos, Wyatt is order–a balance that steadies my often tumultuous world. The warmth in his gaze is a silent testament to the quieter moments we've shared, the deep conversations that can last forever. With each step, each turn, I'm reminded of the solidity he provides, an anchor amidst life's storms.
"Always the perfect partner," I murmur, leaning into his hold.
"Only for you," he responds, and there’s a promise in those words, one that goes beyond the dance floor.
Finally, as Wyatt's song ends, Emrys appears before me, his hand extended with cat-like grace. Taking it, I’m drawn into an elegant dance, our bodies syncing with an ease born from mutual respect and shared ambitions. He guides me through the dance, each step a word in the silent language we've created just for us. His touch is sure, his movements precise–mirroring the meticulous nature he brings to everything he does.
"Kat, you're radiant tonight," Emrys says, his voice a soft caress that sends shivers down my spine.
"I’m pretty sure you’ve said that like a hundred times," I tease lightly, though my heart thrums at the sincerity in his tone.
