Cole and Ellie stood at the altar promising forever.
This,she thought, watching them exchange rings,this is what I was supposed to have with Brad.
But even as the thought came, she knew it wasn't quite true.
Because Brad had never looked at her the way Cole looked at Ellie. Had never fought for her. Had never chosen her, not really.
Brad had performed love.
Cole and Ellie had the real thing.
And maybe, Rachel's eyes found Mac at the altar, maybe she could have the real thing too.
Mac must have felt her gaze because he looked over. Their eyes met across the church, and he smiled.
She was going to tell him today. That she loved him.
Sophie caught Rachel's eye from the altar and winked. Like she knew exactly what Rachel was thinking.
The ceremony ended with a kiss that made the whole church cheer.
As people began filing out, Sophie appeared beside Rachel. "You're going to do it, aren't you? Tell him you love him?"
"How did you—"
"Please. I've known you for months now. That's your 'I'm in love and done being quiet' face." Sophie squeezed her hand. "Good. Do it. After the speeches. Don't chicken out."
"What if—"
"None of that. Rachel, that man is so in love with you it's actually painful to witness."
Rachel nodded, her pulse slightly raised. "Okay. After the speeches."
"Good girl. Now let's go. We have a reception to get to and a best man speech that Mac is going to absolutely nail while staring at you the entire time."
The Riverside Inn had been transformed into something magical.
Thousands of tiny lights hung from every surface; wrapped around columns, draped across the ceiling, wound through the floral centerpieces. White roses and peonies overflowed from tall vases on every table. The dance floor gleamed under soft lighting. French doors stood open to the terrace, letting in warm May evening air that smelled like roses and fresh-cut grass and that particular green smell of spring.
Mac's hand found Rachel's lower back as they navigated through the crowd of well-wishers. Not guiding, exactly, more like grounding. His palm pressed warm through the thin fabric of her dress, his thumb tracing absent patterns against her spine.
Rachel shivered despite the warmth of the room.
"You okay?" Mac asked, leaning close so she could hear him over the music.
"Fine. Your hand—" She didn't finish the sentence.
"My hand?" Mac's thumb stilled.
"Keeps distracting me."
"Good distraction or bad distraction?"
Rachel looked up at him, saw the heat in his eyes, and felt her cheeks flush. "Very good distraction."
Mac's hand pressed more firmly against her back, pulling her marginally closer as they moved through the crowd. "Then I'll keep doing it."
They found their table, and Mac's hand didn't leave her back until she sat down. Even then, his fingers lingered for a moment on her shoulder blade before finally letting go.
