At one point she shoved herself between Jake and Bubba and said, “If I’m getting murdered by glitter and teenage hormones tonight, I’m going down immortalized.”
The photographer laughed.
Jake said, “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”
Rachel flipped him off while smiling for the camera.
It was perfect.
We rode in the limo—all six of us.
Me. Rachel. Archie. Coop. Jake. Bubba.
The interior lights glowed soft and golden. Someone had brought sparkling water like we were celebrities with brand deals. The music played low. The mum bells jingled every time I shifted and it made everyone laugh.
The ride was filled with determined laughter.
That’s what it felt like.
Like we were looking at the last few weeks and saying:you don’t get to take this from us too.
The best part? Itworked.
For a while, it worked so well I almost forgot the adults existed. Almost.
Right before we arrived, Archie shifted closer.
“Hey,” he murmured.
I turned, and he opened a small box in his palm.
My breath caught.
“A charm bracelet,” I whispered.
His eyes held mine. Warm. Intent. A little smug, because he loved seeing me surprised.
“I know you like things that… mean something,” he said softly.
I stared down at it.
Gold. Delicate. Beautiful.
And the charms?—
Our initials.
A tiny ballgown.
And—ridiculously, sweetly—a little putt-putt charm.
Because we’d played so many times it counted as history.
My throat tightened.
“You’re going to make me cry,” I whispered.
Archie’s smile softened. “I’m aware.”
