We step out of the small room and into the quiet hallway, the sounds of the ceremony muffled on the other side of the doors. Her grip tightens on my arm as we walk, the soft rustle of her dress the only thing breaking the silence between us.
The closer we get, the louder everything becomes. I start to hear the low hum of voices, the scrape of chairs, the faint swell of the organ starting up.
Tiff inhales beside me, sharp and steady, bracing herself.
I glance down at her. She looks straight ahead, her chin lifted, even though I can feel the nerves in the way her fingers press into my arm.
Then the doors open.
Everything hits me at once.
The church. The faces. The white and blue flowers lining the pews. At the very end of the aisle, Jamie stands at the altar in his tux, looking like he might pass out, cry, or both.
I take it in, but none of it matters, because all I see isher.
Honey.
I haven’t seen her in months, and it still hits the same. One look at her, and my heart is in my throat, like it’s been trying to find its way back to her this whole time.
She's at the front next to Madison, wearing the same blue dress, holding the same bouquet, acting like she’s just another bridesmaid at another wedding. Like she didn’t take the best parts of me with her when she left.
They’ve styled her hair in this soft, intricate way that looks almost too perfect to touch, and my fingers ache with the need to ruin it. I want to be the one standing behind her tonight, pulling out each pin, just to watch it fall loose over her shoulders.
Fat chance of that happening, though.
Her boyfriend, Chris, is sitting in the pews as I walk past, and I have to drag in a slow breath to keep myself in check. Every instinct in me wants to grab him by the tie and make it clear she was never supposed to be his.
But I force my attention away from him.
Back where it belongs.
Honey’s expression is flat, her gaze drifting just above us instead of meeting mine. I know why, because if she looked at me, she wouldn’t be able to pretend she’s happy to be here without me.
“Mommy!” Ella calls excitedly from beside Madison, who has to grab her before she bolts down the aisle.
That snaps whatever trance Honey is in, and our eyes meet. Just for a second, but long enough for my entire world to tilt on its axis.
This is wrong.
The thought hits me like a linebacker, knocking the air out of my lungs. I force myself to keep walking and keep it together. Tiff can’t feel how badly I’m coming apart inside.
This is so fucking wrong.
Ishould be walking down this aisle toward Honey.Sheshould be the one in white. This should beus.
But it's not.
It's Tiff and Jamie.
I’m just the guy giving the bride away, forcing one foot in front of the other while the girl I love stands ten feet away, pretending I don’t still undo her.
When we reach the altar, Jamie steps forward, and I see it in his eyes. Gratitude. Respect. Maybe even something close to friendship.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, reaching for Tiff's hand. “For everything you've done for her, and for me.”
I huff out a quiet breath, nodding. “Yeah. Don’t make me regret it.”
He gives me a small, knowing look.
