I turned to Cleo. “We’re ready.”
I moved through the aisle, gently guiding everyone into position. The groom and groomsmen lined up in their tailored suits, straightening ties and smoothing down their hair. Lucas kept checking his reflection in every reflective surface he passed, a window, a wine bucket, the back of a polished spoon murmuring to himself like a man preparing for a Vogue cover shoot.
Noah stepped into position, the morning sun catching the line of his jaw, and a slow, traitorous heat spread through me.
Yesterday’s kiss hit me all over again, and for a terrifying second, I forgot how to breathe.
I shook my head and straightened my tablet like it could anchor me.
The guests took their seats, a sea of linen suits, silk dresses, extravagant fascinators, cologne strong enough to interfere with the bees.
The quartet flowed into Pachelbel.
The sun glowed like it had been paid extra.
The aisle shimmered beneath a carpet of fresh white petals.
“Showtime,” Cleo whispered.
And the procession began.
Three of Carolines’ friend’s daughters began the procession and were throwing petals everywhere, including at the guests.
Sophie came down the aisle after them, holding her bouquet with trembling hands.
Emma was next, smiling and waving at strangers like she’d won a pageant.
Then the music rose, rich and sweeping.
And Caroline stepped into the sunlight on her father’s arm.
The collective gasp from the guests was audible, a bright, shimmering sound.
She was ethereal.
James’s eyes filled. The man practically melted where he stood.
Without meaning to, I glanced over at Noah.
And caught him looking at me.
His expression was… searching. And something else, something unguarded.
I felt myself blush and glanced away, heart flipping like a gymnast.
Graham spoke with grace and sincerity, weaving their story with gentle humour. The guests laughed. Teared up. Sighed in the appropriate places.
Caroline’s voice wavered beautifully as she read her vows. James’s broke completely halfway through his.
When they exchanged rings, Emma full-on sobbed into her tissue. Sophie clutched her bouquet so tightly a petal floated away.
And when the celebrant announced them husband and wife, the cheer that rose from the crowd shook the leaves on the trees.
Champagne corks popped in the background. The quartet burst into a lively string rendition of a Beyonce song that made the older guests look mildly confused.
Caroline and James kissed, a long, heartfelt, not entirely PG-13 kiss, and I felt a bit teary actually.
Despite everything, they made it.
