The collective intake of breath from the assembled guests sent goosebumps down Zach's arms. They'd nailed it.
The gown managed to be both classic and unexpected. Structured satin with subtle detailing in the seams.
That small moment of awe that always happens when the bride arrives, rippled through the guests as they all stood.
Before Anna could continue down the aisle, Piper nodded pointedly at Babushka. She rose slowly from her seat and shuffled toward the bride, clutching a small velvet pouch trimmed in gold thread.
She moved with purpose—quiet, reverent, leaving whispers in her wake.
As she reached Anna, she muttered just loud enough, "I get to vear the good scarf and judge people. It is a proper family occasion."
Babushka slipped the pouch into Anna's hands. The bride blinked, surprised, then carefully opened it.
Zach already knew what was inside. It was filled with pieces of dark rye bread and a pinch of salt wrapped in linen with red embroidery.
The Dvornakov family blessing.
He hadn't seen it given since his cousin's wedding years ago. No one would allow Babushka to give it. It drove her nuts.
"Na zdorovye," Babushka murmured loud enough for those closest to hear, pressing a kiss to Anna's cheek. Then, switching to English just enough to bridge traditions: "For strength, and for the sweetness after."
Anna's eyes shone immediately, the symbolism sinking in. She squeezed Babushka's hands, something unspoken passing between them.
Zach turned toward Piper, making his eyes wide like, "what the hell, you didn't say anything to me?"
She gave the faintest shrug.
And Anna? She tucked the embroidered cloth into the folds of her bouquet, right beneath the ribbon bindings to carry it with her like an anchor, a tether to something deeper.
The music began again and the ceremony continued.
And still, Zach's gaze didn't drift from the back as Anna made her way to the front.
Piper was there at the end of the aisle, framed at the far entrance, headset in place, clipboard clutched like her battle standard.
But her face? Peaceful. An unexpected smile tugged at her lips as she watched Anna stride down the aisle.
There was zero amount of jaded worry in her expression.
She hadn't only made it beautiful. She'd made it work. For everyone. The flowers were sentimental. The cakes told two stories. Even the string quartet had somehow made a football fight song weep. This was all her.
The vows began.
The horse, blessedly, didn't so much as sneeze during the big moment.
Anna let out a slow breath she'd probably been holding for ten minutes.
The music from the string quartet swelled as if it had been waiting its whole life for this cue. A warm breeze stirred the edge of the pergola, fluttering the ribbons.
Anna teared up. Drake looked like he might cry, too. Hell, even Zach was getting choked up.
The sunlight caught in Anna's veil as she laughed through a line she'd flubbed—something about sandwiches and soulmates. There was a ripple of affectionate laughter.
And, just before the vows ended, when the audience was glued to Drake's "I promise to always buy the weird pickles," Zach glanced to the back.
There stood Piper. Quietly dabbing her eye. One small tear and a smile so sure it made his heart ache.
He held that image in his mind like it was something sacred.
