Page 68 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
We all head out to line up and get ready for the processional.
The music begins—strings and piano—and I help lift the hem of her gown as we glide out of the room and down the narrowhallway leading to the garden conservatory. As we round the corner, the full view hits me, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.
It’s radiant.
Sunlight streams through the glass-paneled ceiling,, washing over rows of white folding chairs filled with expectant faces. Wildflowers twist and climb up the wooden arch at the front, their soft petals trembling in the breeze that slips through the open doors. The scent of lavender and roses clings to everything.
Then the guests turn.
A collective hush ripples across the room.
I step aside as she begins her walk down the aisle, bouquet trembling slightly in her grip. She’s crying already, and so is her groom—waiting at the end, love written in every line of his face.
Even I get choked up.
I take my place off to the side, near the arch, doing my best not to be obvious as I swipe at the corner of my eye. But even with the vows unfolding in front of me, I feelthem—the gravitational pull of the three men behind the rows of family and friends.
Liam has his eyes locked on me. Steady. Still. His suit is tailored within an inch of its life, and he wears it like it’s molded to him.
He offers the smallest of nods when our eyes meet, and it takes everything in me not to move toward him.
Ethan is watching me too. His gaze is thoughtful, intense, like he’s taking me in as part of the ceremony—like I’m more than just a witness to this.
And Jake… God help me, Jake is leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His tie is loosened just enough to make him look like he stepped out of a daydream, and when he winks at me—just once—my breath catches.
But this isn’t about us.
The officiant begins, his voice warm and rich, layered with emotion as he welcomes everyone.
“Marriage,” he says, “is a promise. Not just a ceremony, but a quiet revolution—two people choosing each other, over and over, every day.”
The groom goes first, voice thick with emotion as he holds Danielle’s hands.
“I’ve loved you since that night we stayed up until sunrise, talking about everything and nothing. You’re my home. My safe place. And I promise to stand beside you through all of it—chaos, calm, and every breath between.”
I hear a sniff behind me. Probably the mother of the bride, but I’m too teary-eyed to turn around.
Then Danielle speaks, her voice shaking.
“I never believed in soulmates until you. You taught me how to trust love again. I promise to love you with my whole heart—and to keep choosing you, every day, for the rest of our lives.”
I press my lips together, feeling the tremble in my chest. The weight of those words hits too close to home.
The rings are exchanged, their hands shaking so badly the best man has to help. The kiss that follows is soft, long enough to draw cheers and clapping but short enough to still feel sacred.
And just like that—it’s done.
Everyone rises to their feet, the applause thunderous beneath the soaring glass ceiling. I wipe a tear from my cheek and slip out the side exit into the garden, needing air, needing space, needing…
Them. All of them.
Liam is sitting on a curved stone bench beneath the old willow, his tie loosened and jacket unbuttoned, forearms resting on his knees. The dappled sunlight filters through the long, swaying branches, throwing shadows over him like something from a dream.
I move without thinking, weaving past flowerbeds and laughing guests. When I reach him, I press my hand to his chest, rooting myself in the steady rhythm beneath it.
“Hey,” I say, smiling softly.
His hand comes up to cover mine, holding it there against his heart. “Hey yourself.”
