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Henri took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, dude. I’m working on it. It’s gotta be just right. I can’t fuck it up.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “After national’s, we’ll go camping, like old times. We can burn shit and work on the perfect proposal.”
He grunted, which was a more enthusiastic response than I had anticipated, and then took off to intercept Goldie, who had found a fresh bag of marshmallows and was stuffing them into her mouth like a chipmunk.
I wandered the yard, stopping every two feet to chat with guests and accept hugs and congratulations. Despite the guilt eating at me over the party they’d thrown for my fake marriage, it was humbling to have the town here. All these people, who had been important to both Hazel and me throughout life, had come together to honor us.
I finally found my wife, who was in the photo booth with Lydia, making silly faces. Dylan was there as well, sipping a beer and hovering in the background. He’d been quieter than usual tonight, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast every time I caught sight of him.
I gave him a nudge. “Hey, man.”
He threw an arm around my shoulder, perking up a little and making my stomach sink. How could I stare at my beautiful wife, feeling like the luckiest guy on earth, and then lie to my best friend’s face about it?
“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to deflect my guilt.
He shrugged, taking another sip. “Things are weird with Lydia.”
I raised one eyebrow and steered him off toward a vacant picnic table. We did not talk about Lydia. In all the years we’d been friends, we had never spoken aloud about his feelings for her. It was obvious to everyone on earth that he was in love with her. The two of them lived in separate bubbles of delusion, not understanding how perfect they were for each other. But we all knew and held out hope that one of them would finally come to their senses and make a move.
“What happened?” I asked, dropping to the picnic table bench so I faced the fire.
Frowning, he scanned the crowd, then sat beside me, his elbows on his knees and his beer dangling from his hand between them. “Nothing. I don’t want to ruin your party.”
“You can tell me anything, man,” I said, hating myself a little more for keeping secrets from him while encouraging him to share his.
He ran his hands through his hair, leaning closer. “I kissed her. And then everything got weird. I’d give anything to just go back in time and take it back. I’m such an idiot.”
Before I could respond, Hazel came bouncing toward us with a huge smile on her face. “Dylan,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “This is so much fun.”
His face morphed into a smile. “You deserve a party. I don’t care if the marriage is fake. I’m proud of you. You’re healthy and on your way to being a goddamn doctor. And you,” he turned to me, “are going to nationals. Finally. After all these years, you made it. Clearly, this marriage was a genius idea.” He puffed up his chest. “Since I came up with it, I’ll accept your gratitude in the form of imported beer and pizza.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
“There’s no one I would trust with my sister, but you’re doing a stand-up job.”
My heart squeezed. Coming from Dylan, that meant a lot. Hazel caught my eye, and I raised one brow. It was time to tell him. We couldn’t keep him in the dark. There was something real here, and even if it was only temporary, telling him felt like an important step.
Hazel gave me a slight nod, and I cleared my throat. But before I could speak, my mother hurried over. “Kids,” she said, grabbing Hazel’s hand. “No one is dancing. Come on, newlyweds, get things started for us.”
“Okay, okay,” I said to my mother, giving Dylan a nod. Hopefully we could catch him later.
I turned to Hazel and held out my hand. “Care to dance, Mrs. Gagnon?” My heart soared when she nodded enthusiastically and practically jumped into my arms like Goldie had earlier.
The crowd gathered around to watch us when we stepped onto the dance floor, their scrutiny wreaking havoc on my nerves. But as I scanned our friends and family, I locked eyes with Jasper, who I’d cut trees with every winter since high school. He was watching us from the makeshift stage, and with a wink at me, he strummed the opening bars to “More of You” by Chris Stapleton.
I made a mental note to thank him for the perfect romantic but not sappy song, then I pulled Hazel tight against me and closed my eyes.
“This is technically our first dance,” Hazel said, resting her chin against my chest, her face pink from all the attention.
“Then we best make it a good one,” I said, twirling her while our audienceoohedandahhed.
“I can’t believe they did this.” She bit her lip and looked at the folks circled around us. “We just got married. It’s not that big of a deal.”
I pulled her closer as other couples joined us. “Not that big of a deal? Lovewell throws parties for far less, and it’s a sticky July night filled with stars and fireflies. It’s perfect for a little backyard wedding shindig.”
She rested her cheek on my chest, the scent of her shampoo floating around me. “It’s so kind. People cooked and planned and set up. It’s a lot of work.”
I took her hands and pulled back. “When are you gonna realize how fucking special you are? That you deserve all the good things?” I twirled her again, then pulled her flush against me when she returned.
