Maya
The sun filters through the trees, casting a warm, golden light across the lake as I stand on the cabin’s porch, smoothing the fabric of my dress over my very round, very pregnant belly. The air smells like pine and wildflowers, and the gentle lapping of water against the shore adds to the peacefulness of the moment. It’s the kind of calm I didn’t know I needed until now, even as my excitement bubbles just under the surface.
I can’t believe this is our wedding day.
It’s nothing fancy or over the top, just how I wanted it. My parents, Jazlyn, Alex, Laura, Ethan, Mason, Chantelle, and Leti, are all here, gathered in a little semi-circle near the lake. There’s no aisle, no grand procession. Just love, family, and the sound of George’s paws padding along the dock as he parades around in his tiny tuxedo, completely unaware that he’s about to be the most adorable ring bearer in history.
I take a deep breath, savoring the moment as I watch Jazlyn fussing with the flower arrangement she’s holding. She’s beenmy rock through all of this, from the chaotic decision to move up the wedding to today, standing beside me as my maid of honor.
She catches my eye and grins, mouthing, “You look amazing, Mom.”
I smile back, though my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest. My dress is simple—soft ivory lace that hugs my belly in a way that makes me feel beautiful and confident, even at nine months pregnant. I wasn’t sure if I’d feel like myself today, with my swollen ankles and all, but Garrett’s reaction when he saw me earlier erased every insecurity I had.
Speaking of Garrett…
I spot him standing by the lake, talking to Alex. He’s in a dark suit, his hair just slightly tousled by the breeze, and he’s laughing at something Alex said. My heart skips a beat. How did I get so lucky? He’s been incredible through this entire whirlwind, moving mountains to make this day happen without me lifting a finger. All I had to do was say I wanted to be married before the baby arrived, and he made it happen. Every phone call, every detail, every request—I didn’t even have to ask twice.
I rest a hand on my belly, feeling a little flutter of movement. “Almost time, little one,” I whisper.
“Ready, Mom?” Jaz steps up beside me, her hand on my arm.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Let’s do this.”
She gives me a quick squeeze and leads me down the short path to the lake, where everyone is waiting. My dad stands at the front, officiating the ceremony with a small leather book in his hands. Garrett turns as I approach, and the way his eyes soften, his lips curving into that familiar, lopsided smile, makes my knees weak.
“Wow,” he whispers when I reach him. “You’re breathtaking.”
My cheeks flush, and I laugh softly. “Thank you. You look yummy.”
“Yummy?” he chuckles. “I’ll take it.”
The ceremony begins, and everything fades away except for him. My dad’s voice is steady as he talks about love, partnership, and the journey Garrett and I have been on to get to this moment. I barely hear the words, though, because all I can focus on is Garrett—his warm eyes, the way his thumb brushes against mine, the quiet strength that seems to radiate from him.
The first contraction hits me like a wave, sharp and insistent but not entirely unexpected. I’ve been feeling twinges all day, but I chalked it up to nerves. This one, though—this one is different.
I take a slow, deep breath, willing myself to stay calm.
Not yet. Just let me get through the vows.
Garrett’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies me. “You okay?” he murmurs.
“Fine,” I lie, giving him a tight smile. “Keep going.”
We exchange our vows, each word so special and sweet. Garrett’s voice is steady, filled with so much love and sincerity that I feel tears prickling the corners of my eyes.
But then another contraction comes, stronger this time, and I can’t hide the wince that escapes me.
“Maya?” Garrett’s voice is laced with concern now, and the murmurs from our small group of family and friends grow louder.
“I’m fine,” I insist, gripping his hands a little tighter. “We’re almost done.”
“Are you sure?” Jaz asks, stepping forward, her face etched with worry.
“Yes. Let me finish.”
My dad hesitates, looking from me to Garrett, then back again. “Sweetheart, maybe we should—”
“Dad,” I cut him off, my tone firm despite the growing discomfort. “Please.”