Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

Perfect.

I knew I still wore that forced smile I’d put on that morning along with my tuxedo and bow tie, because when our eyes met, Sydney frowned.

“You look beautiful,” I told her on a whisper, and my heart burned in my chest with the truth of it. “So, so beautiful, Sydney.”

She smiled, but her eyebrows were still bent together, her eyes searching mine.

I wondered if she could sense it, my heart breaking — both from my feelings for her and from the discovery of my father’s last entry early this morning. I wondered if just by looking at her, she could feel my pain.

She didn’t ask if I was okay, but as my mother signaled that it was time to make our way outside for the bride and groom’s exit, Sydney looped her arm through mine, holding my bicep as she snuggled in close.

“I’m right here.”

Her words were softer than a whisper, but they brought me my first steady breath of the day, one that pushed out all the stiff air in my lungs and made room for a new, fresh, clean inhale of assurance.

And with her on my arm, I somehow found the strength to walk through the church doors and continue the celebrations, all the while holding the biggest secret I’d ever had buried where no one could see.SydneyI hadn’t been to a wedding since my own, which had been small, and private, and far from glamorous. It was just me, Randy, and our families — including Paige, who was already growing in my belly at the time.

It was nothing like this.

While the church ceremony had been modest and simple, the reception at Mayor Barnett’s home was nothing short of extravagant. Their home was something out of Better Home & Gardens magazine, the classic, all-American southern house — complete with a porch that wrapped all the way around. I couldn’t say for sure how many acres they had as part of their land, but it was at least three, and a giant portion of it had been transformed into the nicest event space I’d ever seen.

At the center of it all was a dance floor, planks of wood fitted together in the middle of their yard as if it had always existed there. It was framed by gold and all around it were round tables with lavish floral centerpieces, candles of all sizes, and photos of Noah and Ruby Grace throughout their relationship.

While the tables surrounded the dance floor, at the head of it stood a small stage with a full string band — one that was currently playing the sweetest, most beautiful rendition of “From The Ground Up” by Dan+Shay while Ruby Grace and Noah shared their first dance in the center of the floor. He held her tight, her eyes cast up toward his as they swayed, both of them whispering softly to each other so no one else could hear.

Strings of gold and white twinkle lights criss-crossed above it all, casting the cool November night in a warm evening glow. There were pyramid flame heaters surrounding the tables and placed strategically between them, so that there was plenty of space to move around but also that no guest could ever possibly get cold.

Every detail was thoughtful and reformed.

My eyes found Jordan’s where he sat beside me, and he offered a wink before his gaze was on his brother and Ruby Grace again. The smile he’d been trying to hold all night fell once more, along with my gut, because I knew something was off — thought I didn’t know exactly what it was.

Throughout the evening, as we listened to Logan and Ruby Grace’s sister, Mary Anne, give their speeches, and as dinner was served, and as the band played soft music as we all conversed at his family’s table — I held his hand in mine under the table. He felt so distant that I’d squeeze that hand from time to time, and he’d squeeze in return, letting me know he was still there, when for all intents and purposes he seemed universes away.

And I knew I was the reason.

Here we were, two months from the morning he’d sat at my patio table and told me that he would agree to keep our relationship between us if I agreed to be his wedding date this evening. And while I had followed through on my end just as he had his, I knew that to him, me being here meant more than just me being here.

He wanted all of me.

And what I’d realized this weekend was that I felt the same.

Maybe it was walking with his mother in her garden, listening to her tell stories of Jordan growing up. Maybe it was watching his brothers with Paige, the wide smile on her face and the stars in her eyes. Maybe it was that night, when I’d come to him with my deepest shame, and he’d accepted me fully, holding me and kissing me and making love to me until the morning light slipped through my guest room window.