“Um, excuse me — Seth? They’re ready for your first look.”
The photographer’s assistant is a young woman, standing just a little behind us, her hands clasped in front of her. It’s early afternoon, and we’re all dressed up and ready for the wedding to begin. The ceremony and reception are at a historic mansion with extensive botanical gardens, and we’re waiting in a small courtyard surrounded by hedgerows.
“Oh! Thanks, Emily — I guess I’ll just —” Seth turns to me, and his hands are shaking a little as he smooths down the front of his suit jacket. “Do I look okay?”
“Of course, you look amazing!” I reach out to hug him, and I can hear a shutter clicking right next to me. I guess it’s going to be like that all day. “She’s going to swoon. You can do this.”
“Thanks, little bro.” Seth gives me a twitchy smile, then follows the assistant out into the gardens. I’m not quite sure what to do with my hands, so I tug at the bottom of my coat and try desperately not to shove them in my pockets. I glance over to make sure that Dadis still sitting on the bench under the arbor and that he doesn’t need anything. He catches my eye and grins, and then nods behind me.
Just then, I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“Ezra?”
His voice catches in his throat, and as I turn, it’s as if time has stopped. I’m sure there are people that can explain better than I can what Cole is wearing. His suit is a deep, vibrant blue, shiny in the light and perfectly fitted to his slim frame, not an inch of fabric out of place. The shirt underneath the jacket isn’t a button-down Oxford like the one I have on, but a light, silky thing with a plunging neckline that shows off most of his chest. His hair is pulled back softly from his face, a few blond tendrils escaping his updo. And I can tell he has makeup on, but I couldn’t tell you exactly what products he’s wearing to make him look so ethereal, so impossibly glamorous.
I reach for his hands, and I can feel a grin splitting my face. “Hey. I mean — oh myfuckingGod, you’re beautiful.”
“Thisold thing?” But Cole is laughing, and he leans down to kiss my forehead. “You lookincredible. I have to go back — but I just wanted to see you before everyone else does.”
I lift his hand to my lips and kiss it, because everything is crazy and I can’t think of anything else to do that would fit better. “I fucking love you, you knowthat?”
He winks. “I know.”
A little while later, it’s time. Seth is back, and he’s a little teary-eyed after seeing Bree, and he had better stop that because even I’m starting to feel an odd prickle at the back of my throat. The temperature is a bit brisk for an outdoor wedding, but I’m warm in my wool suit (and more than a little thankful to Cole for picking it out). The guests are all in their seats in the formal garden, amidst the fountains and water features and carefully curated topiaries. But there’s lush fall foliage too — trees beyond the hedgerows exploding in a riot of red and orange and gold. At the front of the crowd, the officiant walks forward to take her place in front of an archway wreathed in vines. The string quartet begins to play a tune that is vaguely familiar to me, and I know it’s time.
“Ready, Dad?”
Seth holds out his hand, and we both support our father as he gets to his feet. Nearly a month after the accident, he’s been recovering well, hitting every one of his milestones in physical therapy. The doctors tell us it’s lucky that he was so active before the fall, even though it’s the reason he fell in the first place. I think he’s already itchy to get a power drill back in his hands, and we’re going to have to figure out a way to keep him out of trouble.
He’s looking at both of us, one hand clutching eachof our arms, andfuck, he looks a little misty too. I’m going to have to go out into the woods and scream after this is over.
“I want you to know, boys —” Dad says, and his voice wobbles a little. “Your mother would have been so proud of both of you, of the men you’ve become. God, I wish she could see you.”
“Dad—” Seth whispers emphatically, and maybe that’s all that needs to be said.
Bree’s mom is the first to walk up the aisle, escorted by Dave and Kyle, Seth’s other groomsmen. She’s the spitting image of Bree, or perhaps a snapshot of Bree’s future, dark-eyed and spirited. When she’s halfway to the front, it’s our turn. Dad leans heavily on Seth’s arm for support, his cane in his other hand. I’m not quite sure what to do, so I walk beside them, keeping my arm in view in case Dad needs me. After we settle him into his seat, we take our place beside the officiant, and the music changes.
Bree’s bridesmaids file in, and I guess they look fine. They’re dressed in blue, just like Cole, and I wait for them to pass, because I’m looking forhim. And there he is, his shoulders thrown back, with that bounce in his step that makes you feel like he owns the place, smiling as if he already knows that everyone is going to fall in love with him. Which is true, because they are. He’s walking toward me and his eyes meet mine, and I know today isn’t about the two of us, but to me it feels like itis. We’ve fought so hard to get here, and now he’s standing in front of me like a dream. A dream that doesn’t go away, no matter how many times I blink.
I can tell you that Bree is wearing white, yards and yards of white on her small frame, a fucking mountain of white. I can tell you that words are said, and there are songs and tears. I can tell you that at some point I fumble in my pocket for the rings and hand them over while Cole grins down into his bouquet. But mostly I can tell you that Cole is here, and every time my eyes meet his, I feel like I’m floating.
And when the time comes to head back down the aisle, I offer him my arm, and when he takes it — in front of my whole family and all of Bree’s friends — I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder.
***
“Fuck, my face hurts from smiling.”
I’m leaning against a stone pillar in the formal garden, rubbing my cheeks with both hands. Thankfully, the photographer is busy with Bree’s extended family at the moment, so Cole and I are taking a break.
“Anything I can do to help?” Cole laughs as he leans against me, hands snaking around my waist.
I rest both hands on his chest, tilting my chin up to look into his face. “Hardly, considering I can’tstopsmiling when I look at you —”
“Hope it’s worth it—”
I’m never going to get tired of kissing him like this, out in the open where everyone can see us. And when I’m passing the minutes with him, I don’t mind the chilly air or my aching feet or my growling belly or any of the other things that would usually drain my energy and make me crabby. When I’m with Cole, all of that melts away.
Later, as we’re walking out of the garden, the last formal portrait finally taken, Cole slips his hand into mine. It just feels so natural to be here with him, like a comfortable pair of slippers — so that’s probably why I blurt out the next thought on my mind.
