Page 91 of Pucking the Single Dad
I looked at Serena's ring catching the light, at the Cup within arm's reach, at our son—our son now, in every way that mattered—safe and breathing easy.
"Yeah, buddy," I said. "We won everything."
Chapter 30: Brad
The restored barn stood against the Wrightwood foothills like something from Serena's vision board—rustic elegance wrapped in twinkling lights and autumn colors. Six months after the Cup, six months after confirming we were indeed having twins, we were finally making it official.
"Stop fidgeting," Theo commanded, adjusting my tie for the fifth time. "You've faced down 250-pound enforcers. You can handle a wedding."
"Those guys were just trying to hurt me. This is... bigger."
He laughed. "You've been living together for almost a year. You're having twins. What exactly do you think is going to change?"
Everything. Nothing. Both answers felt true.
Outside, the circus assembled. Half the team spilling from rental cars, kids shrieking, wives juggling diaper bags and dignity. And there—Sarah's parents, navigating the gravel in their Sunday best. Yesterday, her mother had sat at our kitchen table, photo album spread between us like a map of alternate endings.
"She couldn't stop shaking either," she'd said, one finger tracing her daughter's wedding portrait. "Kept insisting she didn't deserve you. Isn't it strange, the lies we tell ourselves about what we're worth?"
The observation felt like blessing and absolution combined.
"DAD!" Finn burst through the door in his miniature suit, vibrating with excitement. "Serena looks like—like—" Hegestured frantically, searching for words big enough. "Like when the ice is perfect and nobody's skated on it yet!"
My chest cracked open. "Yeah? That good?"
"Better. Can I see her now? Please?"
"Bad luck, buddy."
"That's silly."
"Yeah," I agreed, ruffling his carefully styled hair. "Most traditions are."
But some traditions mattered. Like the something borrowed—Sarah's pearl earrings that Sarah’s mother had quietly given Serena last night. Or the something new—the necklace I'd given her, now a permanent fixture. The something old—her grandmother's handkerchief, tucked in her bouquet. The something blue—according to Maria, who'd already been by with champagne and chaos, was a garter that would make me blush.
"Places, you beautiful disasters!" Maria's voice could've guided ships through fog. She filled the doorway like an avenging angel in lavender chiffon. "Five minutes until showtime, and I swear to God if anyone cries before the processional, I'm keeping all the champagne for myself!"
Five minutes until everything became official. Legal. Permanent.
The ceremony space took my breath away.
I anchored myself at the altar, Finn velcroed to my right side as "best buddy," his fingers vice-gripped around mine like I might evaporate. Theo loomed on my left—bodyguard, brother, witness to this beautiful insanity. The three of us suspended in amber while music bloomed through the barn's bones.
Then the world tilted.
Serena materialized in the doorway like something I'd conjured from desperation and want—sunlight caught in lace, curves made poetry, the swell of our twins turning her silhouette into a promise. Her father moved beside her, his linebacker shoulders set with the kind of pride that could level mountains. But her face—Christ, her face—blazed with such certainty it felt like staring into the sun.
Time stuttered. The aisle stretched like taffy, then snapped back. Suddenly she was there, close enough that I could count the freckles nerves had brought to her cheeks. Her father's handshake could've crushed coal into diamonds.
"Take care of her." Not a request.
"With everything I've got." Not a promise—a blood oath.
The officiant began, but I barely heard the words. All I could focus on was Serena—the way sunlight caught the highlights in her hair, how her hand trembled slightly in mine, the tears she wasn't trying to hide.
"The couple has prepared their own vows," the officiant announced.
I went first, pulling out the paper I'd written and rewritten a dozen times before abandoning it for the truth.
