A lump rose in my throat, sharp and hot. “The day we found out my dad was killed in battle, I watched my mom collapse to her knees. I didn’t even know how to cry yet.”
I looked down at my black dress shoes, blinked the sting away, and lifted my head.
“Anyway… not long after, I was sitting on our porch after school, just staring at nothing, and I saw Colt out there tossing a football. Just him. He looked over at me and yelled, ‘Hey, you know how to toss a ball?’”
I laughed to myself. “I lied and said yeah. I had no idea that this mother fucker?—”
Mel pinched my side from her seat.
“—this guy,” I corrected with a grin, “would have me out there getting tackled, running drills and shit like I was trying out for varsity. He didn’t go easy on me. He never has.”
The crowd laughed again, and I moved the mic away. “‘Shit’isn’t a real curse word,” I muttered. “And how you going to get on to me about cursing miss potty mouth?”
Mel pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, and I kept going.
“That day, though… that was the start. The start of something solid. A real friendship. One I didn’t know I needed. Colt’s always been that guy—loyal, kind, way more compassionate than he wants people to know. I saw it in how he treated his mom, his brother Blake, hell, how he even treated strangers. How he treated me when I didn’t even know who I was yet.”
I looked straight at him again. “And I know—even though Blake isn’t physically here, he’s watching. Smiling. Or maybesomewhere playing the guitar, working on a song just for you two.”
“Love you, son!” Cliff called out, raising his glass toward the stars above the sheer cream drapes that hung like a dream above the dance floor.
Nora shoved his arm gently, teasing him, and he lowered the glass with a laugh, taking a sip.
“So is your dad!” Colt shouted from his seat, his voice cracking a bit.
That hit me harder than I expected. I laughed quietly to myself, heart swelling.
“Yeah,” I said, eyes a little glassy now. “Speaking of my dad…” I walked a bit, turning to address everyone. “My parents had a love story that got cut short. My dad wanted to marry my mom after my sister was born—but life had other plans. And that taught me something important: don’t wait. Don’t put it off. We’re not promised tomorrow.”
I turned to Mel. She was already looking at me.
“That’s why I didn’t wait. That’s why we rushed in like fools and got married fast. Because when you know, you know. And I never wanted to risk leaving this world without making her my wife.”
The DJ dropped the lights, and the opening notes ofFools Rush Inby Elvis filled the air like a heartbeat.
The crowd let out a cheer as I looked back at Colt and Abigail—her head resting on his shoulder, Chloe curled up in her lap, Bodie on his. A real picture of love.
“Thank you both,” I said, my voice soft now. “For letting me steal a moment on your day. For letting me embarrass my wife while telling her exactly how much I love her.”
The applause came as I set the mic down gently and turned to Mel.
“And now, the first husband-and-wife dance—before the bride and groom,” the DJ announced.
I reached out my hand to her. “May I have this dance?”
She smiled that smile—the one that still wrecks me. Her fingers slipped into mine, and we walked to the floor together.
We moved slowly, our bodies fitting together like we were made for this. I held her close, feeling her heartbeat through my chest, and in that moment, nothing else existed. Just the music. Just us. Just love.
The final notes of the song faded, and the applause rose around us like a soft tide. I kissed Melanie—her lips warm, familiar—and we made our way back to our table, the one right beside the bride and groom’s. It was their turn now. Their moment.
The DJ’s voice crackled through the speakers. “And now, for the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife.”
“I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston came on. Unexpected, but fitting in some strange, offbeat way. Melanie told me Abigail loved ‘80s and ‘90s music, and she wasn’t kidding. The song wasn’t traditional, but then again, neither were they.
I turned toward the dance floor, watching Abigail and Colt sway in each other’s arms, when I felt a tiny presence sidle up next to me.
“Here you go,” Faye said, handing me a small box.
