My wedding day was everything I had ever dreamed of.
I know people say that all the time, usually while smiling through disasters they are trying to make sound charming later. The flowers arrived late, the cake leaned, somebody’s uncle got too drunk before dinner, and still the bride says, “It was perfect.”
But mine really did feel perfect.
At least at first.
The venue looked beautiful. Hayden and I had chosen a restored garden hall just outside the city, the kind with tall windows, pale stone walls, and ivy climbing one side like something out of a storybook.
White chairs lined the lawn for the ceremony. Soft cream roses framed the arch. Tiny glass lanterns hung from the trees, waiting for evening.
The weather was perfect too. Not too hot, not windy enough to ruin anyone’s hair, and the sky was such a gentle blue that I kept looking up like it had been painted there just for us.
Every person I loved was there celebrating with us.
My aunt Bronwyn dabbed at her eyes before the music even started. My cousin Tessa kept whispering that my dress made me look like I belonged on a magazine cover.
Hayden’s younger brother, Callum, was pretending not to cry near the front row, but I saw him turn away and press his knuckles against his mouth when I started walking down the aisle.
And Hayden.
My fiancé looked handsome. That was the word everyone used, but it did not feel big enough when I saw him standing beneath the arch.
His dark suit fit him perfectly.
His hair, which usually never did what he wanted, had somehow behaved for once. His eyes were fixed on me, bright and soft, and for a moment I forgot the music, the guests, and the careful steps I had practiced in my heels.
All I saw was the man I was about to marry.
“You look unreal,” he whispered when I reached him.
I almost laughed because my hands were shaking so badly. “Good unreal or scary unreal?”
“Josie,” he murmured, his voice thick, “you look like the rest of my life.”
That was when I knew I was going to cry.
My dress fit perfectly, which felt like a small miracle after two rounds of alterations and one full week of me convincing myself it was suddenly too tight.
The satin sat smoothly against my waist, the lace sleeves did not itch, and the train floated behind me when I walked. For the first time in months, I felt completely relaxed.
The ceremony had gone smoothly.
No one tripped.
No one’s phone rang. Hayden remembered his vows, even though he had been terrified he would forget them. I remembered mine too, though my voice cracked halfway through when I told him he had made ordinary days feel like something worth keeping.
When the officiant pronounced us husband and wife, Hayden kissed me like we were alone.
The applause rose around us, loud and warm, and I held onto his jacket with both hands. I remember thinking, “This is it. This is what happiness feels like when it has nowhere else to go.”