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Hazel giggled. “Not just coughing. He was hacking. Bent at the waist, hands on his knees to brace himself, coughing. I was patting his back and Remy rushed out in search of water.”
“Gross.”
“He didn’t cover his mouth or anything. It was disturbing.”
Dylan took a sip of his beer. “I’m sorry I missed it, guys.”
“I’m glad you’re here to celebrate with us.”
“As the joint best man and man of honor, I’d like to propose a toast.” Dylan raised his glass.
I froze, worried my best friend was about to embarrass me.
“I thought hell would freeze over before I allowed my best friend to marry my little sister. But I was wrong. You’re good people in challenging situations, and I want what’s best for you, which I guess means this insane fake marriage.”
I gave him a tight smile, trying to ignore the hell freezing over comment and the slice of pain I felt when he said it.
“So. To Mr. and Mrs. Gagnon. May you both get what you want and then get amicably divorced.”
We clinked glasses, and Hazel threw her head back in laughter. And I joined her, because it was impossible not to when she looked so happy. This day was strange and wonderful, and we were having a good time. It was too late to turn back, so we might as well embrace the married life.
“Are you ready for photos? We’ve got to convince the world you’re in love.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon traipsing around Bangor, taking cheesy photos and laughing with Dylan. Not the most traditional wedding day, but we could have done a lot worse.
After frozen yogurt at Giffords in lieu of wedding cake, we ended up at a candlepin bowling alley.
The ugly bowling shoes looked adorable with Hazel’s fancy dress. Her hair was back up in its usual ponytail now, and she wore a permanent smile. The look made my heart squeeze. It was a drastic change from her often serious, worried demeanor.
“How did you get so good at this?” I asked after losing another set to her.
She shrugged. “There was an ancient bowling alley in the basement of my dorm at Brown. You had to stack the pins yourself, but it was free. I used to go down there to blow off steam.”
I shook my head. “My wife is full of surprises.”
“If you think I’m good at bowling, never challenge me to a game of scrabble.” She gave me a saucy wink and then sauntered off to the ladies’ room.
Before I could relish that wink, Dylan appeared next to me, his face serious.
“We should probably talk.”
I gestured for him to sit on the bench, but he remained standing. “When I first suggested you two get married, I was joking. But it’s done now, and I’m man enough to admit it’s a good thing. She needs insurance. She needs to get healthy. And I know you’re doing this for her. You’ve got nothing to gain here, and I am so grateful for your generosity.” He worked his jaw from side to side and glanced over to where Hazel had disappeared. “But. I need to be able to trust you with her.” Dylan wasn’t just protective of Hazel. It was so much more than that. Their parents, their childhood trauma. He became responsible for her at such a young age. And he never stopped looking out for her.
I was close to my siblings, hell we worked together every day, but the connection between them ran so much deeper.
“Of course you can.” I smiled, trying to assure him while attempting to mentally extinguish the flame of attraction that I’d started to feel for my bride. It was going to be difficult, but I respected Dylan. As a friend and as a brother. And I would never do anything to violate his trust. There was a lot he would tolerate. And trust me, I had pushed those boundaries a few times. But not with hazel. Never with hazel.
He didn’t seem amused. “I’m only going to say this once. Hazel is my baby sister. She’s smart and ambitious and too good for this place and this life. She’s always looked up to you. Even had a little crush when we were kids.”
That was news to me. And also irrelevant. We were adults and had entered into this marriage with clear intentions.
“Do not hold her back,” he continued. “Do not make her compromise her dreams like my mom did. Do this stupid marriage thing and then let her go.”
“It’s not like that,” I protested. “It’s not real.”
“You say that. But you care about her, and she cares about you.”
“Yes. As lifelong friends.”
