“You can come sit beside me once you’re done walking,” she says to him with bated breath.
“Sure.Go ahead first,” he replies with a small smile.
She walks briskly to the front row on the left.His eyes follow her back, quiet and hopeful.Once she sits, he turns back to me.
“Ready?”He raises his arm and clears his throat.
“Yeah.”
I take his arm and we step out of the waiting room.Ever since my father passed, I thought I’d have to walk alone.And while I could’ve done it, having a father figure beside me feels like crucial support—especially when my legs are weak and shaking.
Laird stands at the altar.His smile glows.His dark blond hair is neatly styled, tux perfectly fitted, white flower pinned to his pocket.Broad shoulders.Tall frame.Women would sprint if they had the nerve.
His emerald eyes lock on me, and a brief flash of prom night hits me.Familiar.Warm.He’s still devilishly handsome.Still the man I’ve loved all my life.
Matthew stands beside him as best man, holding the rings.Jessy is in a black suit as my man of honor.Lloyd sits in the front row.
All of them look at me with bright smiles matching my own.Guests are few—neighbors, relatives, close family.Two pianists and a violinist play a romantic song.
It’s an intimate wedding.Not the grand designer-gown wedding I once imagined.I’m wearing my mother’s dress with pearlized lace and tulle modifications.My white shoes are thrifted.No celebrity vibe, no haters, no paparazzi.
I walk down the aisle slowly, floating almost.Step after step closer to Laird until I’m finally beside him, exactly as I always pictured.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Golden.He nods and sits next to my mother.
The pastor reads holy verses.When he asks if anyone objects, my heart slams against my ribs.I brace for Alan, Amy, or Peter to burst in.Thank goodness, no one does.And there’s no Hugo Evans in sight.
The ceremony flows into the vows.I hand my bouquet to Jessy, who looks seconds from squealing.We share a quiet laugh before I steady myself.
Laird clasps both my hands.My smile won’t leave.My cheeks warm.I breathe in, then out.
“I, Laird Evans, take you, Fenella Baxter…” His voice is steady and rich, melting straight into my chest.
When it’s my turn, my eyes heat and my voice catches.A twist spirals through my stomach.The moment is carved into my soul.It’s all too bright, too real.I will remember the mosaic light on his face forever.I blink fast, holding back tears.Sniffs echo in the room, but I don’t break.
Laird squeezes my hands and gives them a playful shake.“You got this, baby,” he whispers.
A tiny laugh escapes me.I stand straighter and meet his gaze.
“I take you to be my husband…” My voice softens but holds steady through every word.
He sighs in relief, takes the ring from Matthew, and slips it onto my finger.With the priest’s permission, he lifts his hands to my waist.Mine slide around his neck.
His lips touch mine softly—light, steady, gentle.Not heated.Not rushed.Just enough to make my heart flutter and a sigh slip out.Something I’ve always imagined and something I’ll always cherish.
And in that moment, I know we’ll be okay as long as we’re together.
40
Objections!
Fenella
“Oh sweet Mother, that is divine.”Jessy takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.He opens them wide again while his mouth keeps chewing my mother’s crab cakes.
“I’m glad you like them,” my mother says, beaming at the praise.
“I don’t just like them.I love, love, love them.”
