Her hands slide up, fingertips threading into the back of my hair, then resting at my neck—steadying me, claiming me.
And in this kiss, I taste every promise we’ve made. Every prayer. Every piece of the journey that brought us here.
But then, as the cheers erupt around us and I pull back, breathless, I can't help myself.
I grin and say, “One more for the road.”
And I dip her—full swoop, like we’re in a movie—and kiss her again, deeper this time, with all the joy, passion, and forever I’ve been holding in.
She laughs into my mouth, and the sound just wrecks me—in the best way.
We rise together, hearts pounding, and as I lace our fingers, she squeezes my hand tight.
We walk down the aisle, husband and wife, through a tunnel of cheers and camera flashes, faces full of love and sunlight, the breeze lifting the veil behind her like wings.
And I think, This is it.
This is the start of every good thing.
Chapter 42
Ivy
The courtyard glows with string lights overhead, casting everything in soft gold. Tables draped in ivory linen shimmer beneath the candlelight, and the scent of jasmine floats through the New Orleans air, sweet and heady, like the night itself is celebrating with us.
Gray’s hand is still wrapped around mine, he hasn’t let go since we walked back down that aisle, and I don’t think I ever want him to.
The reception is small, cozy, full of everyone who matters. I spot Harper wiping tears with a napkin that’s probably ruined by now. Olivia’s got her phone up, recording like her life depends on it. And Micah, he’s standing off to the side, smiling that knowing, quiet smile, like he’s watching a prayer come true.
We’re tucked together at the sweetheart table now, and I can feel him looking at me. I glance over, catch his gaze, and blush because—Lord help me—he hasn’t stopped staring since the vows.
I whisper, “Stop staring,” but I don’t mean it.
“Never,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.
And I swear, in this moment, I’ve never felt more cherished.
The clinking of glasses starts, and Harper stands on a chair, champagne flute in hand.
“Okay, okay, listen up!” she calls out, already beaming. “I’d like to make the first toast.”
Everyone laughs.
She raises her glass. “To Ivy, my best friend since forever, and to Gray, who somehow managed to win over the stranger who grabbed his hand right there in New Orleans on a dare.” More laughter. Gray shoots me a sideways look, grinning.
“But really,” Harper continues, her voice softening, “watching you two grow together has been one of the greatest joys of my life. You’re not just cute—you’re faithful, intentional, and real. Ivy, I’ve never seen you shine like this. And Gray…thank you for loving her the way we always hoped someone would. To the happy couple!”
Olivia stands up next. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” she says, clearly emotional, “but I can’t not. Ivy, I’m proud of you. Not just for finding love—but for finding you. And for letting us all be a part of it. You inspire me more than you know. And Gray…thanks for being patient. You’re a good man. And now you’re stuck with us.”
Next up is Micah, Gray’s best man, who grins as he taps his glass and says, “I knew this guy was in trouble the minute he came back from New Orleans and didn’t talk about the music...but about a girl.”
Everyone laughs again, applauding mid speech.
Micah lifts his glass. “To the ones who wait on God, tothe ones brave enough to stay when it’s hard, and to the love that makes it all worth it. Cheers to Gray and Ivy.”
The chatter and laughter fade as the DJ’s voice comes through the speakers, warm and inviting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention...it’s time for the new Mr. and Mrs. Bennett’s first dance.”
