A spark drifted dangerously close to a guest’s fascinator.
“… burns down the estate.”
They walked forward with the kind of radiance that belonged in film montages and luxury brand campaigns.
Guests cheered, calling their names, the sparklers crackling on either side of them as they passed under the glowing arc. There was laughter, a stray spark or two, applause that rose and fell like a tide, and every so often, a flash of a camera catching the moment.
At the end of the pathway, James dipped Caroline backwards in an exuberant kiss that earned a roar from the crowd.
Laughing, they climbed into the waiting limousine, its rear bumper draped with white roses and ribbons that fluttered in the evening breeze. As the driver pulled away, James rose out of the open sunroof, waving both arms like an overexcited child.
“Hawaii, here we come!”
Caroline laughed and joined him, waving to their guests and blowing kisses as the limousine rolled down the long, lantern-lined drive. Behind them, the sparklers burned low, their golden light fading into wisps of smoke and scattered points of glittering ash.
The car disappeared around the bend, leaving behind a lingering sense of magic and the quiet satisfaction of a day that had finally gone exactly as it should.
As we all made our way back towards the marquee, the atmosphere had changed.
The formal part of the evening had left with Caroline and James. What remained felt softer somehow. Looser. The carefully orchestrated schedule I’d spent months building had given way to something more natural.
The dance floor was still full, but nobody seemed particularly concerned about appearances anymore. Shoes had disappeared beneath tables. Jackets had been abandoned over chair backs. A handful of guests were singing along enthusiastically to a song they only partially knew the words to.
I found myself smiling.
For months, this wedding had existed as spreadsheets, supplier meetings, seating plans, and contingency documents. Then it had become a week of family politics, missing heirlooms, and enough unexpected disasters to test the patience of a saint.
I realised I’d spent so much time making sure everyone else enjoyed the day that I’d barely stopped to experience any of it myself.
Now, standing next to the bar, as laughter drifted across the vineyard and candles flickered amongst the flowers, I finally could.
“It looks different now, doesn’t it?” Noah said quietly beside me.
I glanced up at him.
“What does?”
“The estate.”
His gaze travelled across the reception.
“All week I’ve been seeing problems. Things that have gone wrong. Things that needed fixing.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “Tonight it finally feels like my home again.”
Around us, guests danced beneath the lights. Richard Harrington was attempting a move that might once have been popular back in the forties. Elaine was laughing so hard she had one hand pressed to her stomach. Even Margaret appeared to have surrendered to the evening, champagne in hand and judgement temporarily suspended.
A warm sense of satisfaction settled over me.
“We did it,” I said softly.
Noah’s gaze shifted from the reception back to me.
The noise around us seemed to soften.
“We did.”
The words were simple, but something in the way he said them made my pulse stumble.
Then, before I could blink, he held out his hand.
