“No,” I said, and meant it. “Not even a little. I love them all. Especially you.”
He wrapped his arm around me, pulled me close, and pressed a kiss to my temple.
Inside, the voices rose again—Jude making some grand proclamation, Violet objecting, and Rosemary’s dry commentary cutting through them both. The warm, chaotic noise of a family that had been waiting, in its own loud and thoroughly documented way, for this night.
I leaned into Levi’s shoulder and let it all wash over me.
I was going to belong to all of this. I was becoming a Barrett.
Epilogue
Becca
“Welcome toSomebody Said in Sweetbriar—I’ve been thinking about what home feels like when you stop running from it. It turns out it feels like this.”
The evening of the wedding arrived cold and clear. Warm light poured through the pines in long, radiant strips, spilling across the river and turning the water into shimmering ribbons of light as the sunset painted the sky. Everything looked impossibly sharp and bright, the kind of beauty you already know you’ll carry with you forever.
I got ready in our trailer. Harper stood behind me at the small vanity, fingers gentle and precise as she wove wildflowers into my hair. Bella sat cross-legged on the bed, her basket of petals cradled carefully in her lap.
“You look like a princess,” Bella announced. She wore her flower-girl dress in soft pink with a sage sash she had chosen herself after serious consideration. She guarded the basket with both hands, as though the petals might try to escape. “A river princess,” she added.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I’m going to throw the petals really well,” she continued. “I’ve been practicing.”
“I know you have,” Harper murmured, focused on my hair.
“I practiced in the living room,” Bella explained. “And then outside. And then in the living room again because the outside ones blew away.”
“You’re going to be perfect,” I told her.
She nodded with grave satisfaction. “I know.” Then she returned to guarding her basket.
Harper met my eyes in the mirror. Her expression held everything she wasn’t ready to say out loud yet. She was saving the tears.
I wore a simple white dress with clean classic lines—a modest scoop neck, long, delicate lace sleeves, and soft lace detailing along the bodice and hem. It was elegant without trying too hard, timeless, and exactly right for a riverside wedding. The wildflowers in my hair had been gathered that evening by Harper and Bella along the edge of the campground that had escaped the fire—Bella running ahead and pointing, Harper following with quiet focus. It was the only floral arrangement I had ever wanted.
Aggie and Matt arrived together while Harper was pinning the last flower. Matt wore his good jacket, hands tucked in his pockets. Aggie stood beside him, white hair neatly pinned, eyes bright with long-held certainty.
Matt studied the flowers in my hair, the dress, my face. He pressed his lips together for a moment, then stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you, Becca,” he said, voice thick. “You deserve this. All of it.”
I held him for a long moment, grateful for the rare show of emotion from my brother.
When he stepped back, he added quietly, “Mom and Dad should be here. They should be here, and they’re not. That’s on them.”
I had thought about calling them when Levi proposed. I’d picked up the phone twice and set it down both times. Not out of anger—I was past that—but because I already knew how the conversation would go. She would offer polite congratulations, ask about the venue, and inquire about the registry as if the last few years had been normal. She wasn’t a villain. She was simply too self-centered to ever notice when someone needed her. So I never made the call.
“I’mhere,” Matt continued, his voice still carrying that rare emotion.
“I know you are,” I said. “Best big brother in the world.”
He nodded once and held out his arm.
Aggie stepped forward and gently adjusted one wildflower. She stepped back, eyes shimmering.
“Harold would have cried,” she said.
“Spectacularly,” I agreed. “Multiple tissues.”
