Today, my brother was getting married. Today, Aria would walk down the aisle in the dress I'd made. Today, everything would change.
And I still hadn't talked to Femi. Or Matteo.
I'd tried. After the rehearsal dinner, I'd looked for Femi to tell him the truth. But he'd been surrounded by Xavier and Sebastian and a group of groomsmen, celebrating, laughing, and I couldn't pull him away without causing a scene.
Then this morning, he'd texted:Can't wait to see you today. I have something special planned.
Something special. The words sat in my stomach like stones.
I needed to find him before the ceremony. Needed to end this properly, kindly, before whatever he had planned made everything worse.
But the day had other ideas.
Aria needed me in her suite by seven. Hair, makeup, photographs. The dress. A hundred small crises that required my attention—a loose bead, a wrinkled veil, a bridesmaid who'd forgotten her shoes.
By the time the ceremony approached, I hadn't had a single moment alone.
The venue was breathtaking.
White chairs arranged on a cliff overlooking the ocean. An arch covered in tropical flowers—plumeria, orchids, birds of paradise. The afternoon sun cast everything in gold, and the breeze carried the scent of salt and blooming things.
Guests filled the seats. I spotted my mother in the front row, already dabbing at her eyes. My grandmother beside her, sitting ramrod straight, her expression unreadable as always. Kim and Zoe a few seats down, Zoe bouncing with excitement in her flower girl dress.
And Matteo.
He was seated near the middle, on the groom's side. Our eyes met as I took my place at the back with the other bridesmaids.
Longing. That's what I saw in his face—longing and resignation, like he'd already accepted defeat.
I wanted to go to him. Wanted to cross the aisle and take his hand and tell him everything.
But the music was starting.
The bridesmaids walked first. Then the groomsmen. Then Zoe, scattering petals with aggressive enthusiasm, making everyone laugh.
And then… Aria.
She appeared at the end of the aisle, and the whole world went quiet.
The dress was perfect. Better than perfect. The silk caught the light like water, flowing around her as she moved with liquidgrace. The bodice fit like it had been sculpted to her body. The train whispered against the ground behind her.
But it wasn't the dress that made everyone gasp. It was her face—the radiance, the joy so pure it was almost painful to witness.
Sebastian made a sound beside me—something between a laugh and a sob. I glanced at him. Tears were already streaming down his cheeks, his composure completely shattered.
Aria reached the altar. Took Sebastian's hands in hers.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back, his voice cracking with emotion.
The officiant began to speak, but I barely heard the words. I was watching my brother—stoic, responsible, always-in-control Sebastian—cry openly as he looked at the woman he loved.
I thought about our father. How he'd never see this. How he'd never know the man Sebastian had become, the love he'd found, the family he was building.
But maybe that was okay. Maybe we didn't need his approval anymore. Maybe we could build our own legacy, separate from his expectations, his disappointments, and his inability to see us clearly.
The vows were personal, heartfelt. Aria promised to always laugh at Sebastian's terrible jokes. Sebastian promised to never complain about her forty-seven throw pillows. The guests laughed through their tears.
