The church looks like something out of a magazine—baby blue ribbons tied around the pews, soft pink and yellow flowers in mason jars along the aisle. The sunlight pours through the old stained glass, scattering colors across the floor.
It’s simple, small-town perfect.
I’m standing up front with the pastor, trying to look composed, but I can feel the nerves all the way down to my boots. My palms won’t stop sweating.
And then the piano finally starts, and everyone quiets.
The bridesmaids appear first—Addison, Ella, and Karissa—each one in a light-blue dress. The flower girls, Emma and Cora, follow behind, scattering petals with the kind of cuteness only toddlers can have. Cora drops her entire basket halfway down the aisle, gasps, and runs back to pick it all up. Laughter breaks out, and Jesse chuckles behind me.
But when the music changes, I forget how to breathe. The doors open, and there stands Megan.
Her arm is hooked through her dad’s, sunlight hitting her hair just right. Her dress isn’t overly fancy. Simple. Understated. Lace at the sleeves, the skirt part fitted. She’s got a bouquet of pink and yellow flowers in her hands, and her smile…that smile could stop the world.
I swallow hard. Jesse whispers behind me, “Breathe,” with a tap against the heel of my boot.
I do, but barely.
When she reaches the front, I take her hand and lead her up the two steps.
We both smile at each other, eager to confess our private compliments, but we can’t because the pastor starts speaking. His voice is warm and steady, talking about love and covenant and faith. But most of it drifts right over me. I can’t look anywhere but at her. She keeps fidgeting with my hands, cheeks pink, the corners of her mouth fighting a smile every time our eyes meet.
When it’s time for vows, she goes first, in a soft, trembling voice that still fills the room.
“Mason. You pursued me in the most steady, patient way—showing up, choosing me, loving me without making it complicated. And that’s how I knew you were it. I promise to choose you the same way. To love you, to pray with you, laugh with you, and trust God with every season He gives us.”
I blink fast. There’s no stopping the emotion rising in my chest.
When it’s my turn, I take a shaky breath. “You know I’m not great with words,” I start, and the room chuckles. “But I know this much, Megan—you’ve changed everything. My mornings, my nights, how I see the world. I didn’t know how much I needed you in my life until you were already part of it. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to love you like you deserve to be loved.”
She smiles, tears brimming, and when the pastor says I can kiss her, I don’t wait. The whole church erupts in cheers, the sound of clapping and laughter filling the air as I pull her close.
* * *
The reception’s in my parents’ backyard. The tables are covered in blue gingham, the smell of barbecue in the air.
Mom’s talking to Megan’s mom near the dessert table. Dad’s playing horseshoes with other men. Addison’s holding Hallie and talking to Emma, who’s spinning around in her dress to show how it twirls.
Megan and I make our way from table to table, saying hi, hugging people, getting pulled into conversations about where we’ll go for the honeymoon and how wonderful being married is.
When the music starts, I tug Megan toward the center of the yard for our first dance, which we’ve only rehearsed a few times. The first notes of a slow song drift through the air, and she hesitates, laughing.
“Everyone’s watching,” she whispers.
“Doesn’t matter.” I pull her closer, my hand finding the small of her back. “This is all that matters.”
We sway under the lights, the warm summer air moving around us. Her head rests on my chest, and for a moment, everything fades. The chatter, the kids, the music. It’s just her heartbeat against mine.
When the song ends, the family joins in, and the yard turns into a tangle of laughter and spinning dresses. I catch glimpses of Mom smiling through tears, Dad grinning wide, Ella trying to keep the girls quiet. And I think,This is it. This is everything I ever wanted.
As the sun dips low and the lights glow brighter, Megan squeezes my hand. “We did it.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss her. “We did.”
And I know right then, whatever comes next, good or bad, we’ll face it together.
Because this—her in my arms, the sound of our family laughing, the warmth of this night—is exactly what forever’s supposed to feel like.
* * *
