“Because of the wedding?”
I look at her, at my sweet girl with her spring curls and serious eyes. The little girl I spent so long trying to protect from disappointment. From instability. From anything that might hurt her heart.
“No,” I whisper. “Not because of the wedding.”
“Then why?”
I kneel carefully in front of her, smoothing one loose curl away from her cheek.
“Because sometimes,” I say, “when something really good happens, it takes your heart a minute to believe it’s allowed to keep it.”
Jillie studies me for a moment. Then she wraps both arms around my neck.
“You’re allowed,” she whispers.
And just like that, I nearly ruin all the careful work a friend did on my makeup.
Downstairs, the church is filled with spring. Briar Cove fills every pew. And around them there are tulips and white roses tied with pale ribbon at the ends of the rows.
As we descend to the main floor, I see beautiful sunlight spilling through the stained-glass windows, casting soft colors across the floor. Someone has opened the doors at the back, letting in a breeze that smells faintly of rain, flowers, and the ocean.
And at the front of the church stands Benjamin Carter.
My heart forgets how to behave. He’s in a dark suit, hands clasped in front of him, shoulders broad upright, and his expression steady.
But his eyes— his eyes find me, and everything else falls away.
The town. The flowers. The whispered sighs.
For one small, impossible second, I am back in winter. Back in the snow. Back in all those quiet moments when he kept showing up before I knew how badly I needed someone to.
Then Jillie starts down the aisle.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
A few people laugh softly when she pauses halfway to glare at her basket, as if making sure the petals are cooperating. Someone behind her whispers, “She’s adorable,” and Jillie looks briefly pleased with herself before continuing.
When she reaches the front, Colby bends down to her and murmurs something in her ear.
Whatever he says makes her beam.
That is when I nearly lose it.
Not because he loves me, but because he loves her, too.
Gently. Patiently. Without needing to be asked.
When it is my turn, Mrs. Bellamy hands me my bouquet and straightens my veil. She pats me on my cheek and tells me I am the most beautiful bride she has ever seen. I’ve never felt more beautiful and she just reminded me of it with such love. I squeeze her hand and smile.
Now it’s time, the most wonderful time imaginable. I walk toward Ben on legs that don’t feel entirely trustworthy.
His eyes never leave mine, and when I reach him, he takes my hand like he’s been waiting his whole life to do exactly that.
“You came,” he whispers.
I smile through the ache in my chest. “You sound surprised.”
