“Go on,” he said. “Go be the best best man for River. I’ll drop the rings in your pocket when you walk down the aisle.”
I rested my hands on his waist and reached up to him on tiptoes, seeking his mouth for one last kiss.
“I love you so much, Lior.”
“I love you too, Noah.”
PART 3
ADAM
My hands trembled as I straightened my tie in front of the mirror, the knots of anxiety in my stomach tangling tighter with each passing second.
My reflection stared back at me, a man on the cusp of one of the biggest life changes a person could make, if you discounted the tiny detail of my late sexual awakening, of course.
The room hummed with the silent energy of anticipation, the tropical breeze from the open window doing little to cool my flushed skin.
I tried to focus on the simple task before me, but my mind was a whirlwind of memories, the ghost of an alternate reality where this wedding never came to be lingering in the periphery of my thoughts.
“Steady,” I whispered, watching my lips form the word without sound. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, inhaling the salt-tinged air.
I could almost taste the sweet floral notes that wafted from the arrangements outside, intermingled with the faintest hint of citrus from the trees dotting the resort grounds.
When I opened my eyes, there was a conviction that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t just about standing here, about waiting to walk down the aisle toward River. It was about every step we’d taken together since we were kids, every late-night talk and shared laugh, every kiss, touch, or promise.
A soft knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, smoothing down the front of my shirt one last time.
The door opened, and though I expected to see my mother or perhaps Lex, ready to offer brotherly encouragement or step into his best man duties and re-straighten my tie, the sight of River standing there stole the breath from my lungs.
There was an unspoken rule, a superstition really, about not seeing each other before the ceremony, but in that instant, none of it mattered.
“River,” I exhaled, hearing the relief in my voice.
“Hey,” he replied, his own nerves apparent in the tightness around his eyes. “I just… I needed to see you, just for a second.”
And with those words, any remaining doubts or uncertainties about the future collapsed. Because no matter what tradition said, it was this—our connection, our ability to turn to one another in moments of need—that was the essence of our relationship.
“I love you so much, Adam,” he said, caressing my cheek.
“I love you too, River. Meet me at the altar?”
He stole a quick kiss and smiled. “You bet.”
Moments later, laughter from River’s adjoining suite, muffled but unmistakable, drifted through the walls, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
The nerves that had settled in my stomach since I’d woken up calmed a fraction at the reminder that River was just as caught up in the whirlwind of emotions as I was.
A gentle tap on the door announced my next visitor.
“Adam?”
“Come in, Mom,” I replied.
The door opened and in stepped my mother, her smile serene and radiant. She held out her arms, and I met her halfway into the kind of hug you could only ever receive from your mom.
“Look at you,” she breathed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “My son, about to start a new chapter in his life. You look so handsome.”
