“You missed me,” he laughed.
“Desperately,” she breathed.
“Ay! Milo!” Matty boomed from the deck outside the guest house.
Hanna groaned. “No!”
“Jesus Christ,” Milo hissed, his hands jumping to his pants.
Hanna jolted off of him, pulling at her dress as Matty barged in and flipped the lights on.
“Ah come on, not this shit again,” he whined.
“It’s fine—” Milo started.
“I can’t do another round of this with you two! I refuse! I need you to look me in the eye and tell me right fucking now that this is happening for real, and not just another mess!”
Matty’s blue eyes flickered between them, wide with the unhinged combination of several bottles of wine and pre-wedding jitters.
“Matty, relax,” Milo said.
“I gotta find Sara?—”
“No,” Hanna said. “No, we’re not bothering the bride. Milo and I are figuring shit out, okay?”
“Not good enough.”
He crossed his arms. Milo looked around and grabbed Hanna’s phone, flicking through to the screen she’d shown him and holding it up.
“Good enough?”
Matty’s eyes bounced from the phone to Hanna’s face.
“I was going to tell you guys after the wedding.”
“And you’re not just fucking around?”
“Well, not anymore,” Milo said, grinning against Matty’s groan. “I love her, okay? I love her, she loves me, we’re going to make a run at this. Logan is cool, everything is fine.”
Milo clapped his hands on Matty’s shoulders and pushed him out of the guest house.
“You like, love love her?”
“Yep,” Milo mumbled.
“Sara owes me fifty bucks,” Matty said, laughing.
Hanna lingered alone in the guest house, her heart thudding against her chest, not in a panic, but in a full-out sprint toward whatever happened next.
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” Hanna squealed, popping the cork on the final bottle of champagne for the night. Sara giggled, leaning her head on Hanna’s shoulder.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” she echoed. “Finally.”
Hanna poured two glasses, setting the bottle on the nightstand as they snuggled up in Sara’s bed. They were halfway through My Best Friend’s Wedding, fighting the drain on their energy, not quite ready to lay this chapter of their lives to rest.
Hanna muttered through a sip, “Unscented antiperspirant.”
Sara threw her head back, cackling.
