When they make it to the front, Dad puts Wendy’s hand in Dyson’s. He holds his gaze for a second, nods once, and takes his seat beside our mom.
Gran leans over from her seat and whispers to Dyson, “Breathe, sweetheart. She’s not going anywhere.”
The crowd laughs, and it breaks the tension enough for him to exhale.
Wendy walks toward him, and they grab one another’s hands. He leans in and whispers something in her ear. My emotions already can’t handle the way they look at each other with such love and adoration.
The officiant keeps it simple because Wendy gave him strict instructions. No lengthy readings, no audience participation, no sand ceremony. Written vows and rings and done.
Dyson goes first, and his hands are wrapped around Wendy’s as if she’ll float away if he lets go.
“I’m not good at this.” His voice is already unsteady. “I run a company. I negotiate deals for a living. I’ve spoken in front of thousands of people without breaking a sweat.” He looks down at their hands and shakes his head. “Right now, I can’t feel my legs.”
Wendy laughs, and so does the crowd, and it encourages him to keep going.
“I’ve never been able to hide how I feel about you. Not from anyone.” He glances at Mia, and she shrugs from behind the camera.
“You didn’t fall for the version of me that the world knows. You fell for the real me, every part.” He swallows. “That guy is the best version of me that’s ever existed, and that’s because of you. I’m choosing you. And I will choose you until my last breath.”
He stops and inhales slowly, trying to keep it together.
“I’m not promising you perfection because I’m far from that. But I will show up every single day for you. With coffee. And patience. Adoration. And whatever else you need.” His eyes are red, and he doesn’t blink the tears away. “You are the love of my life. My anchor. The one person who makes all the noise stop. I will never stop loving you.”
Nick drops his head, and Asher stares straight at the ocean, trying not to blink away any tears. Half the beach is done for,and I stop pretending this isn’t the most romantic thing I’ve witnessed.
Wendy takes a breath so deep that her shoulders rise and fall. She blinks three times, and I know she’s trying to clear her vision enough to look at him.
“I had this whole thing memorized,” she says. “I practiced in the mirror this morning, and Josie timed me.”
“Forty-seven seconds,” I confirm from behind her, and the crowd laughs.
“Thanks, sis.”
Her voice steadies as she finds her footing. “I’ve spent most of my adult life proving I didn’t need anyone. I wore my independence like a badge of honor and was so damn proud of it. Then you showed up, and instead of trying to rescue me, you just asked how you could help. I told you I was broken, and you said you’d put me back together by August 3. And you did.” She squeezes his hands, sniffling. “I’m not marrying you because you’re Dyson Banks.”
Dyson laughs.
“I’m marrying you because you’re the first person who ever made me feel like being myself was enough. The messy, stubborn version of me. You didn’t want the polished Wendy that so many expect. You wanted the real me.”
“I’ve got her,” he whispers and smirks.
He lifts their joined hands and presses his lips against her knuckles.
“I look forward to spending every day until the end of time loving you.”
The officiant asks for the rings. Nick fumbles in his jacket pocket for a terrifying three seconds before finding them. The look of relief on his face makes Gran laugh. Dyson slides Wendy’s ring on with steady hands, and Wendy slides his on without looking away from his face.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Very happy to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Dyson Carter Banks.”
Dyson takes a moment to gaze into her eyes before he places a hand on her cheek and kisses her like the world is ending. I dream about being kissed that way.
The crowd bursts into applause.
The reception stretches across the beach under string lights as the sky turns pink. The sand fills with bare feet and swaying couples. We do speeches, and have cake, and dance until our legs are tired.
As the sky darkens, the crowd thins. I find Gran at the water’s edge with a glass of champagne in one hand.
“Hell of a summer,” I say.
