The little chapel smelled like pinewood and fresh flowers, with worn pews and a scratched floor. It wasn’t fancy. But it was perfect.
Jack was waiting at the front, wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit that made his hazel eyes look almost green. His hands were in his pockets, his jaw tight. But when our eyes met, he looked at me like I was something holy.
Nan sat in the front row, elegant in pale blue, her silver hair swept back and fastened with antique combs.
Emily went up the aisle in front of me, taking her seat next to Nan, who winked at me as I passed. The gesture was so full of mischief and affection that I nearly laughed through my welling tears.
When I reached Jack, he took my hands in his, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles in that familiar, soothing rhythm.
“You look incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
“So do you.”
The officiant, a soft-spoken woman with kind eyes that Jack had somehow found on three weeks’ notice, smiled at us both before beginning the ceremony.
The official part was short, sweet, with maybe six lines total, not counting the official stuff. When the officiant asked if we wanted to say a few words, Jack pulled something out of his pocket.
A yellow Post-it.
I almost lost it, making a noise that was half sob, half laugh. “God,” I whispered, “you had to go with the Post-its.”
He smiled, cleared his throat and started reading.
“Mia, you showed up in my life when I least expected it and most needed it. You made me believe in love, in joy, in the possibility that I could be worthy of someone as extraordinary as you. I promise to love you, to protect you, to make you laugh when you’re sad and hold you when you’re scared. I promise to be your partner in all things, for all of my days. I love you.”
Oh god, I was about to turn into a puddle of goo. I just stood there, gazing up at my about to be husband, lost for words.
The officiant gave a discreet cough. “Mia, it’s your turn.”
“Oh, right.” I took a steadying breath. “Jack, I used to think love meant twisting myself into shapes to fit someone else’s ideal. With you, I just… get to be me. You saw me when I couldn’t see myself. You made me brave enough to believe I deserved real love, not the scraps I’d been settling for. I promise to love you fiercely, to stand by your side through whatever comes, and to never let you forget how amazing you are. I love you.”
My hands shook as we exchanged rings, and then the officiant said, “I now pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Jack’s hands framed my face with infinite tenderness, his hazel eyes locked on mine. “I love you, Mia Sullivan,” he murmured, just for me.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, rising on tiptoes to meet him halfway.
Jack’s kiss was soft and reverent, like he was sealing a sacred promise. Like forever was already happening. Like I’d never have to question whether I was wanted, or worthy, or enough.
And I kissed him back like I’d waited my whole damn life for it.
We only broke apart when Nan’s stern, “Now, that’s enough, you two. You’ve got a wedding certificate to sign and a plane to catch. You can’t be standing here all night making out.”
The officiant guided us to the little signing table next to the altar. Jack signed first, then me, then Emily as my witness, and Nan as Jack’s.
Then the chapel’s caretaker emerged from the side room with a tray of champagne flutes, Jack taking the bottle from him with a grateful nod.
“A toast is in order.” Jack popped the cork with that quiet confidence that still made my stomach flutter, then filled our glasses.
As we each took a flute, Nan cleared her throat. “Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any for a confession.”
Jack slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “What kind of confession?”
Nan’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “My test results came back clean last week. Turns out it was just an inner ear infection causing the dizziness. Nothing more serious than that. The doctors say I’m in remarkably good health for a woman my age.”
There was a beat of complete silence.
“Last week?” Jack repeated slowly. “You knew you were fine last week?”
