Discover Top Posts Tagged with #is it right

Is it Right? (c.e)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word count: 12k+ (whoops)

Summary: Your best friend is getting married and not only are you in love with him but he’s asked you to be his “Best Woman.”

Warnings: Fluff, angst (nothing new here)

A/N: I’ve been working on this since May. Don’t know how I feel about it. Let me know?

I don’t own the pictures.

My Masterlist

Today’s the day...

This is the day I have been dreading for over a year. My best friend is getting married.

Now someone might wonder why I’m dreading such a beautiful and momentous occasion. Today is supposed to be a celebration of two lives coming together as one in the most beautiful way possible. The blushing bride walks down the aisle with her father to the man of her dreams and they profess their love to one another in front of their family and friends then party until the wee hours of the morning... that would be wonderful if my friend was the bride.

Yep. I’m in love with my best friend who is the groom.

And worst of all, I’m his “best woman.“ I’m supposed to stand next to him and support him as he says “I Do” to a woman that I can’t stand. Not just because she’s with him like I’ve longed to since 9th grade, but because she’s a poisonous, insecure bitch who hates our friendship or any relationship he has with anyone that isn’t her. She’s also a gold digger. I’ve overheard her countless times saying how she can’t wait to be “rolling in the Marvel dough” when she marries him.

Oh, I forgot to mention. She’s marrying Chris Evans.

That’s right. Mr. Golden Boy. The living embodiment of Captain America himself. The flawless man who has captured the millions of hearts of many over the years, including mine. He’s tying himself to the one person in this world that I can’t stand.

I’ve supported him for years. I knew how much he loved acting and the theater in middle and high school. Before we met, I heard it all from his brother Scott since we were in the same grade. Chris was a freshman when we were in sixth grade but that didn’t matter. From the minute I met Scott, he became my best friend. The same thing happened when he introduced me to Chris. I’d be invited over to their house almost daily. We would write and put on our own skits, play video games, go bike riding, everything you could imagine. When the boys got heavily involved with theater, I was there for every performance no matter what role they played.

The Evans family was also extremely supportive with the things I did as well. They were at every choir concert, every softball game, piano recital. They were my second family. I was basically an extension of the family. My mom became close with Lisa because of how often she would have to drive me over to their house and how often they would see each other because of us. Our dads also bonded over their love of sports on Sunday’s and even started going golfing Saturday mornings. One big blended family.

But as time went on, something changed with Chris. He was always cute to me but as the years went on, he became handsome. Lingering stares and touches started happening more often, phone calls multiple times of the day just to say hi, passing notes between classes when we finally were in the same school for one year, the occasional flirty comment but it was all harmless.

Scott caught on real fast to my feelings as soon as I caught them. He was supportive but he was also protective. He knew Chris wanted to pursue acting after high school and didn’t want me to get my hopes up. I assured him that Chris more than likely didn’t feel the same way that I did so there was nothing to worry about. The “little crush” I had would fade with time...

Boy was I wrong.

It’s been over 20 years and those feelings have only grown exponentially.

Chris became hugely famous thanks to Marvel but he still remained one of my best friends. Even though both of the Evans boys left me for Hollywood, they still called or texted me daily. They invited me to their premieres as often as they could and flew me out to their sets on occasion to show me their new worlds. They both remained humble and down-to-earth as the spotlight shone on them.

When Chris started dating the woman he’s getting married to, I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. As with everything, I had wanted to be supportive of him and his decisions no matter how much they killed me on the inside. But when we were alone for the first time, she let me know immediately that she wasn’t going anywhere and my friendship with Chris was on its way out.

Much to her dismay, he still invited me to everything. I was there for every holiday and special occasion. She was as fake as could be when she was around me and Chris never suspected a thing.

When they got engaged, she made sure to show off her ring as much as possible when I was in the room. During their engagement party was when I heard her confirm my suspicions of being a trash gold digger. I wanted to tell Chris, but I hate confrontation which is probably what would happen if she found out I told him.

Fast forward a year and here we are. Hopelessly in love with someone I can never have while the worst person I’ve ever met gets the best man I’ve ever known.

I roll over to see his sleeping form in the bed next to me.

This was not the plan. He was supposed to spend the last night of his freedom with his groomsmen in the suite the hotel gave them. But at around 9, he knocks on my door. He’s barefoot in his plaid pajama pants and a white v-neck that just barely shows off the chest tattoos he has. He’s carrying 2 6-packs and a plastic bag full of, what I can assume is goodies. “One last sleepover for old time’s sake?” He asked with the cutest smile on his face, there was no way I could say no to him.

“I thought you wanted to spend your last night as a single man with your guys.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, pushing passed me into my room, “I can see them any time. But we haven’t had a sleepover in ages.” He sets his stuff on my bed and starts unloading everything. “And this is my last opportunity to do so.”

I close the door with a sigh. “So, where does she think you are?”

“She thinks I’m with the guys,” he turns and locks eyes with me, “and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

In other words, he’s lying to her so he can see me again. That’s been the pattern for just about the entirety of their relationship. He has had to lie to her when he wants to see me ever since he introduced us. From simple lunch dates to hanging out with his family while she’s still in LA for work, she doesn’t like when he’s around me.

One time he called me fuming. She had given him an ultimatum: Her or me. She claimed to know what was going on and wanted to put a stop to it. I foolishly talked him off the ledge and convinced him to stay with her. I compromised and said that we should take a step back from our friendship until she calms down. She doesn’t like me as much as I don’t like her. It took three weeks and five days (yes, I kept count) of no contact with each other for him to finally call me with his new philosophy of “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” I wasn’t on board at first. I don’t like keeping secrets. However, I would do anything to see him, so I went along with it.

I inspect the bag of goodies he brought and I can’t say I’m disappointed. My favorite candy, his favorite beer, and a couple Disney DVDs that we’ve watched so much we could recite them together.

One of our favorite pastimes was watching these movies and acting them out, which includes singing to each other. I always pretended he was meaning the words he sang, especially during “One Song” and “So This is Love.” With one of his favorites being The Little Mermaid, he loved “Les Poissons” more than any other song. But he also loved sitting back and watching me climb over the side of whatever couch we were watching on for the reprise of Part of Your World. As we got older and gained the ability to drink alcohol, it became even more fun.

This time was no different. He lies on the floor after Ariel rescues Eric. I’m on my side beside him. As Ariel sings to Eric, I sing to Chris meaning every word I say. I rest my hand on his cheek as he “regains consciousness.” He’s always managed to match the look in Eric’s eyes as he looks up at me. Every single time, I’m thankful Ariel flees at that moment because then I can hide my blush. I climb over to the other side of the bed and hide until it’s time. I poke my head over the edge and see him leaning on his side of the bed, his temple resting on his hand. His eyes are soft as he watches, almost sparkling in the dim light of the hotel lamp. My heart skips as I play my part. This time I did an obnoxious off-key version of the last note. This broke some of the tension. We crack up before resuming our spots on the bed.

For a majority of the movie, we lie incredibly close to one another. We’re leaning on our elbows, our shoulders and upper arms are touching but nothing else. Our bodies are angled towards the other with our feet almost touching.

That is until his favorite song comes on and he must dance. He saunters and jumps around the bed with a bottle in his hand, clearly enjoying himself. I haven’t seen him this carefree in a very long time. He’s always tense nowadays. He attributed it to the wedding planning, but his more reserved behavior started when she came into the picture. It’s like she’s holding him back from him being who he really is. I miss that old outgoing Chris, the one who was always the life of the party.

He plops back down, placing his fourth bottle on the bedside table, readying himself for the next number. He holds his hand out when Eric and Ariel start dancing. We perfected the dance years ago, but we were a little wobbly this time, the alcohol having gotten to us already. The rehearsal dinner earlier didn’t exactly feed us a lot.

We place ourselves on the middle of the bed for my favorite scene of the movie… Kiss the Girl.

For years, we’ve acted this one out a little differently. He kisses my cheek when Eric and Ariel are about to before Flotsam and Jetsam tip the boat over. Never have I had the guts to just pull him in and kiss him. I imagined a million times doing it, but what came after that was never positive. As much as I wanted him to have a positive reaction to it, I couldn’t help but focus on the worst case scenario. That alone kept me from going forward with it. So we stuck to the chaste kiss on the cheek, same with ending of the movie.

I sit cross-legged between his open legs. He leans back on his hands until the song starts. He sings as he leans in closer. I look away and wait for his lips to connect with my cheek. When they do, they nearly connect with my lips. This is the closest he’s ever gotten to the place I’ve wanted him most. Whenever he does, it’s over as quickly as it starts. But this time, the corner of my mouth tingles where his lips linger almost afraid to pull away. I pull back slightly coming face to face with him.

His glassy blue eyes are half-lidded as he searches my expression for any sign of distress from his action. The tension between us is incredibly thick, neither of us really knowing what to do.

Well… I know what I want to do. But I could never bring myself to do it. He’s getting married tomorrow… to someone who is not me. I can’t.

“Please…” His whisper plea sends cracks through my heart. His hand caresses the back of my neck, leaning his forehead on mine.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” was the only comeback my fuzzy, alcohol infused mind could come up with.

“I know,” he sighs, “I know.” He pulls back, defeat written all over his being. “I’m sorry,” his voice returns to his normal volume, “I shouldn’t have put you in that situation because I’m getting cold feet.”

“You’re taking a big step tomorrow. I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t nervous.” I try and shake off what could have possibly just happened. “Everyone gets cold feet at least once before their wedding.” Everyone except me that is. If it were me marrying him tomorrow, mine would be toasty warm. I would have zero doubts in my mind that marrying him would be exactly what I want. But I know this is my brain trying to convince my heart that that’s what this was. Not the actions of a man who wants to be with me… “It’s normal to seek comfort from your best friend, especially if it’s to knock some sense into you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I needed.” He slides back to lie against the pillows. I stay where I am, not sure where I should go. We sit in silence, watching the movie. We’ve never just watched this movie. Even the very first time we watched it together, we would go back and forth and sang the songs. It didn’t feel right not to, but I didn’t know if we could just go back to it after what almost happened.

“Hey,” I turn to see his arm extended, “come here.” I crawl up the bed, not needing to be asked twice. He pulls me to his chest, wrapping both arms around me. I melt into his embrace, thankful for the dissipation of awkwardness. He kisses the top of my head sighing again. We settle into a comfortable silence while we return our focus to the movie.

In no time, we’re back in the swing of things. When Eric, in his trance-like state, says “I do,” I turn to him and ask, “Is that what you’re going to be like tomorrow?”

He scoffs, “Probably.” He passes me another beer after he notices I finished my last one. I take it even though I don’t feel much like drinking anymore. I’m just tipsy enough to know I need to take some aspirin before bed. He downs his fifth one by the time Ursula takes Ariel back to the ocean. He has his sixth one in hand when he says, more to himself, “I lost her once. I’m not going to lose her again.” He tightens his hold on me, whether it was subconsciously or not I don’t know. He knows that’s one of my favorite lines from this movie. That and when he says “No, I won’t leave you” to Ariel when she tries to protect him. He’s seen me melt at Eric’s words countless times throughout the years. He knows how bad I would want a man to say those words about me and to me someday.

Ursula was inking out when I finally got up the nerve to ask him what I’ve wanted to since he knocked on my door. “Why did you really decide to spend tonight with me?”

He answers without hesitation, like he knew I was going to ask him eventually. “Because I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I see you again.” He sighs. “I can’t keep lying to her about seeing you, but I don’t want to cut you out of my life either. You’re my best friend. I just wanted one more night where we don’t have to worry about what’s going to happen after tomorrow.”

I sit up a bit to face him. “We can see each other at holidays. Three times a year is better than nothing right?” The lump in my stomach grows exponentially at the thought of only seeing him at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. I’ve never gone that long without speaking to him. That month at the beginning of their relationship was the longest we’ve ever gone without speaking and we haven’t gone that long since. He calls me daily. Daily! How am I supposed to go from talking to him every single day to three times a year?

“I don’t know if I can go that long without…” he confesses glancing over every inch of my face as if memorizing it, “seeing you,” he squeezes my side and glances at my lips, “touching you, and talking to you without having to watch what I say.”

“I’m going to ask you this because I am your best friend… are you sure you want to go through with this tomorrow?”

He takes the biggest sigh of them all before saying, “I have to. I made a promise. I have to keep it.”

That sounds like a cop-out and he knows it.

I push, “But is that the only reason you’re doing it?”

“Unless you can tell me a different one, I’m all ears.”

I open my mouth to tell him everything: to beg him not to marry her, to tell him how in love with him I am and have been since we met, to ask him to leave with me right now… but I can’t do it. The words will not form even though my brain screams at me to do so.

He watches me with a little bit of hope in his eyes, as if he’s waiting for me to say “the magic words” that will let him out of the promise he made. He even holds his breath as he waits.

I resign with a frustrated sigh. Why am I such a chicken? Isn’t alcohol supposed to be liquid courage? Why isn’t it working? He’s practically inviting me to give him the out I want him to have and yet I can’t bring my chickenshit ass to do it.

Because it’s not just me who this would effect. It’s him, her, her family, their friends, his family who I love sometimes more than my own- everyone. It will affect everyone. And I can’t be that selfish…

“Do you love her?” I ask looking away from his hopeful eyes. But even in my peripheral, I see all of the hope he had fade. He releases the breath he held and leans his head back against the headboard.

He pauses before answering, “Yes.”

“Then that should be enough reason for you to be at the end of that aisle tomorrow.”

Ursula’s cry brings our attention back to the movie once again. We watch as she withers and sinks with the wooden ship that penetrated her abdomen. The heaviness of the situation weighs on us until we got under the covers after the movie.

I slowly reach over and run my finger gently down his soft cheek, I memorize this moment. Knowing this will be the last time I see him like this, I want to remember everything. How the sun glows around the top half of his body as if it were worshipping it, how his enviable eyelashes lay perfectly against his cheeks, how the tiniest whistle is mixed with his shallow breathing, how deliciously pink his perfect lips are... how so in love with him I am that I would rather give up my own happiness for him to have his.

I nearly pull my hand away when he grabs mine and brings it to his cheek, holding it hostage there. He sighs heavily before the whistling starts again.

I try not to look too far into the action even though my heart wants to so badly. He probably thinks it’s her hand out of habit. I let it lay there for a few minutes before I force myself to pull away.

He’s getting married today.

I brush my teeth quietly before going to the bridal suite given to us by the hotel we’re all staying at. I’m greeted by Carly and Lisa as I walk in. Shanna appears with mimosas which I gladly down and make another.

Both of Chris’s sisters know of my feelings for him. To my knowledge, Lisa doesn’t. I didn’t even have to tell Carly and Shanna. Like a real family, they just know. They each give me sympathetic looks to which I shrug off. I know they mean well but it’s not helping.

As soon as I finish with my hair and make-up, I go to find the man of the hour. Since I’m technically on his side, I should be in the groom’s suite. I was only invited in for getting my hair and make-up done. After listening to her shrill voice for all of that time, I was glad to be gone.

After I knock on the door, Scott greets me. “Finally!” He drags me in before shutting the door. “The Best Woman is here!” All attention is drawn to me thanks to that announcement. The guys who were standing in a circle each with a beer in their hand. Chris wasn’t quite fully dressed yet but he still looked like a dream. His black pants hugged his slender waist, the dress shirt wasn’t done up all the way yet, his cuffs weren’t buttoned yet and his tie was hanging undone around his neck. I had to stop myself from staring too long.

“Wow, you look...” he checks me out in the dress I picked out. It’s a floor-length black chiffon which matched the silhouette of the bridesmaids, but since I will be standing on Chris’s side, I went with the color of their tuxes. Most of the other dresses are strapless where mine has long, lace sleeves. I didn’t want to be pulling my dress up all day and night. It’s also early spring and the temperatures haven’t started their rise yet so I didn’t want to be freezing my butt off when we’re outside taking pictures. Also while the other girls were stuck in very thin high heels, I chose dress shoes with a slight thick heel to somewhat match the men. I honestly think I got the best of both worlds here. “... wow.”

“Ever the articulate one,” I tease, setting my shoes on a chair until it’s picture time.

“You’ve just never been so...” he clears his throat as if that would help.

“Thank you, Christopher.” I didn’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not. I mean I know I’m not the hottest person in the world but he has seen me with my make-up and hair done for prom once upon a time. “I’m sure you’ll look just as nice when you’ve finished getting ready.”

He whispers “Doubtful,” under his breath, shoving the hand that isn’t holding a bottle into his pocket.

“Isn’t there something you want to give her?” Scott asks Chris.

“Oh, right.” He’s jolted into action as he sets down his beer and goes over to a different chair where his tux jacket was hanging. He pulls a small wrapped box out of one of the pockets.

“Hey guys, let’s go check out the bar downstairs.” Scott rallies the rest of the gentleman out of the room leaving me and Chris all alone.

As Chris approaches me, he takes a deep breath, “As the groom, I feel obligated to get all of my attendants a gift.”

I internally cringe, knowing those weren’t his words. He probably had no idea giving gifts to his attendants was a thing before this.

“I got all of the guys cuff links but since you’re my Best Woman, I got you a little something different.” He hands me the square box then shoves his hands in his pockets.

“You didn’t have to.” I sheepishly take it and planned on opening it later but by the look on his face, I could tell he wanted me to open it right now. So I gently tore open the pretty wrapping paper and opened the box.

In it was a necklace. Simple, small black teardrop and my first name initial on a silver chain. It was beautiful and totally me.

“You picked this out?”

“Well I...” he rubs the back of his neck, slightly flustered, “yeah. I know how much you hate gaudy necklaces.”

“It’s perfect.” I couldn’t stop staring at it. He’s gotten me a lot of nice things in the past but this was by far the best. “Thank you.”

“Want me to help you put it on?”

I lift it off of the cotton inlay of the box and hand it to him. He steps behind me, securing it around my neck. His hands linger on the back of my neck for a second longer than they should have before they were gone. Just that slightest touch caused a tingle down my spine.

I mentally shake it off before turning around. I fidget with my new accessory, thanking him once more.

“I also wanted to thank you for last night.” He shoves his hand as far into his pockets as they will allow. “It was nice to have a chill night before the chaos ensues.”

“Of course. You know I’ll always be there for you.”

“It also meant a lot to me to be able to spend my last night as a single man with my favorite person.”

That causes my head to snap up. His favorite person?

I open my mouth to say something but what do I even say to that? Of course he’s my favorite person. He has been since the day we met. But how could I be his? I’d understand if he said “one of his favorites,” but those extra two words were not included in his sentence.

I quickly glance at the time to try and distract myself. Just as I see he’s about to say something I interrupt him, “We’d better go. Pictures start soon.”

He clears his throat, “uh, yeah, sure.” He strides over to the mirror, buttoning the rest of his shirt and fiddles with his bowtie that was lying limp around his neck. I watch him closely knowing he’s never been able to tie one successfully before. I hear his frustrated huffs as he just can’t quite get it right.

“You need help with your tie, don’t you?”

“Please?”

I giggle as I turn him around to face me. I glue my eyes to the task at hand, completely aware that he’s only a few inches away from me and I can feel his gaze watching me.

“Are you nervous now?” I ask trying to distract myself.

He releases a breath he was holding, “I’ve never been this nervous in my entire life.” His breaths smelt of beer. I make a mental note to give him a mint before leaving.

“You shouldn’t be.” I make the last tug on the perfect bow and retract my hands. “You were made for this role. You’ll be great.”

“Will I?”

We lock eyes. His ocean blue ones are holding so many emotions it’s hard to keep up with them. Doubt, self-loathing, longing, confusion, a hint of sadness...

I always knew he’d be a good husband, no matter whose husband he ended up as. He was born to be a husband and a father. God he’d be an amazing father. Seeing how he cared for his younger siblings and now his niece and nephews, it’s literally the best thing I’ve ever seen. He cares so deeply for those kids. I can only imagine how outstanding of a father he will be to his own kids someday...

“I have complete faith in you.” I muster up a smile I hope is convincing enough for him. “Now hand me your cuff links. We’ll miss your wedding if you do them yourself.”

From then on, the morning was a drag. Pictures lasted a lot longer than anticipated so that put us behind schedule for the rest of the day. Typical. She’s always late for everything else, why would her wedding be any different?

After pictures with the attendants were done, we were given a late lunch of dry sandwiches and water. We all ate on the party bus while the bride and groom continued with their pictures.

“So, did you talk to him?” Scott asks as he sits next to me.

“Did you tell him?” Carly asks as well.

I look around the bus to make sure no one was paying any attention to us. I don’t want anyone overhearing. “No, I’m not going to tell him anything nor am I ever going to now.”

“You could still stop this,” Shanna chimes in quietly.

They’ve always wanted me to say something to him about how I felt. They’ve expressed to me multiple times how much they want me to officially be a part of their family and since I’m not exactly Scott’s type, Chris was my only shot. I guess they’ll just have to be okay with family-adjacent.

We arrive at the venue 20 minutes after we were supposed to be here. We all file into the room set aside for us to leave some of our belongings and wait there until the ceremony start time.

I stick closely to Scott’s side as the minutes pass. I can feel my walls starting to dwindle. Chris comes over and chats with his siblings but I can’t seem to be able to pay attention to what he was saying. At this point I can’t even bring myself to look at him. My stomach feels like it has turned to lead, my hands are shaking so badly that I have to hold on to Scott. I’m this close to losing it completely. I just hope I can make it through the ceremony...

When the wedding coordinator came in to get us in line, I wanted to run in the other direction.

How could I have agreed to stand next to him and watch him marry someone else? I may have felt a little better if he were marrying someone I liked, but that’s not the case. I’m losing him to a wench and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it now.

As we line up, Scott reaches back to squeeze my hand one more time before the processional starts. I grip my bouquet tighter and tighter as I see the next pair of attendants starts to walk. When Scott goes I take a deep breath and plaster the fakest smile I can muster because I know there’s an awfully expensive videographer and photographer watching. The maid of honor goes next, leaving me to be the last one before the witch in white.

I slowly make my way down the aisle when I see she’s far enough ahead. I glance around the crowd for my parents, hoping to find some comfort in other familiar faces. I find them in the second row behind Lisa and Bob. My mom is gripping Lisa’s hand over the back of the chair. They both have the same expression... pity.

I try and look anywhere but forward, but I fail. Seeing the man I’ve loved for over 20 years at the end of that aisle, like he was waiting for me was both the best and worst sight I’ve ever seen. I had dreamt of this day. Seeing him there waiting for me as we embark on a life together as husband and wife, to live happily ever after until the end of time. Except he wasn’t waiting for me.

His bottom lip trembles slightly as he swipes his index and thumb over his eyes, sniffling loudly before exhaling. I have to bite my lip to stop my own from quivering, needing to look away before I have a full-on breakdown. I take my place behind him. A few deep breaths were had before the minister asks everyone who is able to stand to greet the bride.

Scott uses the hand that’s hidden from the crowd to comfort me. It takes everything in me not to turn around and bawl. I stand there numb as they gather in front of the officiant. He goes on with the ceremony, preaching about God-knows-what. I wasn’t listening.

The magical words “I do” in his deep, smooth voice broke through and shattered my heart. I try not to let it show. The tears sting behind my eyes as I force them not to come forward. Unfortunately, a few do. I wipe them away, hoping people think I’m emotional because I’m happy for them, not because those simple words have the biggest impact on me.

Since Scott is the Best Man (and is the one with pockets), he hands the minister the rings when queued. I begged Scott to insist he holds them. I claimed that I didn’t want to be responsible for them in case something happened, but we all know the real reason was that I couldn’t. I knew as soon as I was up here, I would freeze. I could not physically hold the symbols of their marriage in my hand for the duration of the ceremony. Scott didn’t really want to either but there was no way she was trusting a child with her extravagant wedding ring. So Scott was the default.

From there, they move to light their unity candle. They take their places behind the stand, each picking up their respective pre-lit candles to light the middle one signifying their unification. I keep my gaze to the floor not needing to see it or how happy he is.

Never once did I think to do as people do in the movies. I never thought about interrupting the ceremony with “please don’t marry her, marry me instead.” I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t do that to myself. I couldn’t live with the humiliation of being rejected in front of so many people, including people I’ve idolized for years. He doesn’t deserve it and I’m a better person than that.

The applause from the crowd tell me it’s finally over. The newly married couple make their retreat down the aisle and out. The maid of honor and I exit and take our place in the receiving line after congratulating them.

To say it was an awkward interaction would be an understatement. The bride barely touched me when I gave her a half-assed hug. The exact opposite interaction happens with Chris. His arms linger around my waist and he buries his face in my neck as if he didn’t want to let me go. Everything in me wanted to cling to him too, but he has a wife now. I peel him off of me, refusing to look him in the eye and take my place on the other side of the maid of honor.

The guests coming by helped distract me from Chris’s gaze that I felt constantly. Lisa wanted to give me a hug. I stopped her at first because there was no way I could get through that without completely breaking down. But Lisa being Lisa insisted and didn’t take no for an answer.

Some of Chris’s Marvel friends stopped and talked to me for a bit which I will be eternally grateful for. RDJ had me laughing after whispering that I looked better than the bride. Anthony Mackie’s interaction with Chris made everyone laugh. Sebastian told me how beautiful I looked and he called dibs on the first dance with me at the reception. Scarlett as gorgeous as ever gave me the biggest hug. She also knew of my feelings and shared the same views on his new wife.

The bride and groom were pulled aside before we all piled back on the bus to head towards the reception venue. We are told it has the best view of the sunset for a serene dinner and has an outdoor terrace that overlooks a spectacular view of the ocean for those that need a cool down after some dancing. I know I will be utilizing that space a lot tonight.

By the time we arrive at the venue, it was almost the scheduled dinner time. The bride wanted to get some sunset pictures on the terrace before we all make our entrances. The only thing getting me through these pictures is the fact that I will be able to start drinking very soon. I’m going to need a lot of alcohol to get me through this night ahead.

Scott and I are supposed to make a speech since we are the Best Man and Woman. Liquid courage will be my best friend. We decided weeks ago that he would be speaking on behalf of the both of us since he’s quite literally known Chris his entire life and he has way more juicy and embarrassing stories than I would have. That and I don’t think I would be able to speak without bursting into tears.

We finally make our extremely corny entrances to a rap song of the bride’s choice before we take our seats at the head table. How we stood at the altar was how the seats were arranged so that means I am right next to Chris... great. Now I have to sit next to him and watch him repeatedly kiss his wife because people can’t seem to get enough of clinging their silverware on their glasses. I quickly made the decision to take a drink every time it happened. It may not be the smartest idea but that’s how I’m coping.

An hour later it was time for speeches. The maid of honor went first and I seriously wanted to vomit throughout the entire time. That may have also been due to the amount of alcohol I’ve consumed since sitting down. Chris has leaned over a couple times and asked if I was okay since he knows I don’t drink very often. He persuaded me to last night saying it was his last night and he wanted to spend it having fun. But tonight, this was all me. No one persuaded me to do anything. My reason I gave him was that I’m taking advantage of the open bar. I think he only believed me the first time, that’s why he’s asked me again and again and again.

When the MOH finishes her speech, the microphone is passed down to Scott. He stands up, pulling me with him. The alcohol hits me at that moment and I lose my balance slightly. I recover by grabbing his arm and lean against him. He asks if I’m good before he introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Scott. I’m Chris’s favorite brother and Best Man. This lovely lady to my right is the Best Woman, my,” he emphasizes for effect, “best friend-“

“Hey! She’s my best friend, too.” Chris interrupts causing the other guests to laugh.

“Yeah but she was my best friend first. Anyway, I will be speaking for both of us tonight because she’s clearly had way too much to drink.” I smack him in the stomach then take the microphone.

“I have not! Speeches are not my forte. So I thought it would be better for Scott to speak and I don’t embarrass myself.”

He continues on with his speech with me holding the mic. He talks about how it was growing up with Chris, tells a couple of embarrassing dating stories, briefly adding when I met both of them, before concluding how happy he was for his brother and can’t wait to see what the future holds for them.

The bride makes a speech next but I can’t bring myself to listen to her. I don’t want to hear how much she claims to love him and how she can’t wait for this next chapter of their lives together. My stomach churns just thinking about it.

Chris makes the final speech, thankfully he kept it short and not very detailed.

Which actually wasn‘t like him at all, and definitely not like all of the other groom’s speeches I’ve heard.

The DJ starts the music and the party starts. I plan on keeping my butt in this chair but I spy Sebastian across the way who beckons me to him. I remove my shoes and meet him on the dancefloor.

“You’re mine for the night.” He declares in my ear as he twirls me around to familiar 80’s song. I’ve known Sebastian as long as Chris has. We’ve always gotten along well. Even for a guy he was very perceptive to my feelings for Chris. He never judged me, never forced me to say anything about it. He just flat out said to me, “Chris is an idiot” one day while we were all out together and hasn’t said another word about it since.

After my dance with Seb, I’m stolen by RDJ, claiming Susan was already tired of his dance moves. A couple more dances with Chris’s niece Stella and the Electric slide later, the DJ announces the first dance for the Mr. and Mrs.. A more recent, very overplayed slow song comes on and instantly I know Chris didn’t pick it.

I take that instance to go find my parents. They’re still at their table with Lisa and Bob. “Beautiful speech, honey,” Lisa teases.

“Hey! If you heard the awful speeches I made in high school, you would be thanking me.”

“If you had come to the theater to do more than gawk, we could have fixed that.” Lisa had invited me to join the community theater every summer after meeting. It just wasn’t my thing. It was Chris and Scott’s and I was more than happy to support them from the audience.

“How are you?” My mom asks slipping her hand into mine. She gives it a reassuring squeeze but it does little to lift my heavy heart.

“The worst day of my life is almost over. That is something I can be thankful for.”

Seb comes to steal me away, back to the dance floor until the bride and her father have their dance. I take this time to head to the bathroom.

Just as I’m about finished with my business, the door opens.

“I still can’t believe he’s married.” A woman expresses to another. I quickly recognize the voice as my mother.

“I know. I always thought our kids would end up together.” The other lady who I immediately recognized as Lisa says back to her. “We were supposed to be grandmothers together.”

“If it were up to us, they would have had kids by now!” Their laughs echo off the walls, ringing in my ears. “Those two are as stubborn as can be. Anyone who has eyes can see they’ve both been absolutely crazy for each other since the day they met.”

“Everyone can see except them.” My heart drops into my stomach at Lisa’s words. “I mean, did you see the way he looked at her when he saw her walking down the aisle? And then when his bride did?”

“No comparison!”

“I know my son and it was written all over his face who his heart truly belongs to.”

“And did you see her while she was up there? My poor baby! She was barely holding it together.”

They say more but I don’t hear it. My mind goes into shock after what I just heard.

I stay in the bathroom until the walls start to cave in around me and I feel like I’m suffocating. I leave to find the terrace. The cool ocean breeze greets me like an old friend instantly cooling me down. Thankfully I’m the only one out here for the time being. I pace trying to comprehend what I just overheard.

He’s what? Always has been? No comparison? Who his heart truly belongs to?

... What?

I need answers. Right now.

I head back inside on a mission. I weave my way through the tables until I find him standing next to the bar with a beer in his hand. I stand with my back to the people he’s talking to for privacy. He embraces me, leaning close enough for me to murmur in his ear. “I need to talk to you. Right now..”

When I pull back, his previous happy expression instantly drops when he sees my urgency. “Okay.” He follows me out of the crowded room and out onto the private terrace. “You’re kinda scaring me here. What’s going on?”

“Do you love me?” I blurt needing to get straight to the point. I can already feel my lungs slightly constricting again. My hands are shaking- no, my whole body was shaking.

“What kind of question is that? Of course I love you, you’re my best friend-“

I try and bite my tongue but I can’t. He’s not understanding me. “-That’s not what I meant.”

He gapes at me for a second before he finally gets it. His shoulders slump and he sighs, “I just got married...”

“Doesn’t answer my question.” I step closer and ask slower, “do you... love me?”

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No hint of reservations. Complete and total honesty. Zero regard for what he just did a few hours ago.

I don’t know if I’m relieved or angry. If what our mothers said is true then he has for over 20 years, he didn’t say a thing. Ever.

How did I not see? Am I blind or just oblivious?

“Is that what you want to hear?” He sidesteps me, setting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. He runs his hands down his face before turning back around. “Why are you asking me this now? Why didn’t you say anything about it last night?”

“I didn’t know last night!” I exclaim, exacerbated by this whole situation.

He runs his fingers through his hair as a sign of his distress . “Who told you?”

“Who told me?” I scoff, “You’re my best friend. Why weren’t you the one to do it?”

“I wanted to!” He exclaims, “God,” he runs his hands down his face now, “I’ve been dying to but there has never been a good time to do it.”

“Bullshit,” I blurt. He’s had plenty of opportunities. 20 years’ worth of opportunities! There was something else holding him back. “Try again.”

“I was scared, alright?” He finally blurts the truth. He sighs almost in relief as he makes his way over to one of the benches in the corner. He buries his face in his hands as he leans his elbows on his knees. “I was scared of losing you and what we have. I can’t...”

Needing to comfort him as I have since day one, I go to kneel in front of him. “Hey, look at me,” I remove his hands from his face before taking them in my own. “You’re not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever.” He breathes a heavy sigh of relief, leaning his forehead on mine, closing his eyes.

“Promise?”

“Promise. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

We stay like this, just basking in the quiet, in this moment, and in each other. I’m trying to take in all that I learned but it’s just not comprehending. He’s loved me for as long as I’ve loved him. But due to his fear of losing me, he kept it to himself. All this time we could have been together. We could have been married by now with kids. Our mothers could have finally gotten what they always wanted: us together so they could have mutual grandkids.

“Hey,” I bring us back to reality by cradling his face in my hands and pull back from him but only slightly, “can I ask you something else?” He nods, giving me the softest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Did you ever think, even for a second, that I might feel the same way?”

“I hoped. God, for so long I hoped you did...” his eyes scan my face as I see the wheels turning in his head before he asks, “did you?”

I try and stand up as an embarrassing snort escapes my nose but the fact that I’d been sitting on my legs for so long, my balance was affected.

As I feel myself topple over, he reaches out and grabs my waist pulling me into his chest. My hands instinctively catch his shoulders. Our noses brush. I feel his breath on my face and suddenly mine is stolen.

The tension increases the longer we stay in this position. His hold is firmly secured around my waist. His gaze switches between my eyes and my lips. Never have I been this close to him before in this capacity. We came close once in a game of Twister but that was surrounded by our friends and Scott. Or that one time when we were playing football on Thanksgiving and he tackled me to the ground.

But at that time his feelings had not just been made known and mine were not in question.

As enticing as it would be to finally kiss him after all this time, it wouldn’t be right. It might feel right, but it’s not the right moment.

To break us out of our trance, I answer his question, “The fact that you even have to ask that proves that you were just as oblivious as I was,” before pushing on his shoulders to stand properly.

A smile broke out on his stunning face. “Was I really?” His smile turns into the signature smile the world knows him for. You know the half smile? The one that is too cute for words? It’s the one I fell in love with almost instantly.

And the fact that he was looking up at me through his flawless lashes didn’t help my urge to kiss him.

I nod and shrug. “I thought I was being subtle about it but according to your siblings, subtlety is not one of my strong suits.”

“You know they said the same thing to me?”

I shake my head in disbelief, “Of course they did.”

“I made them promise not to say anything to you until I was ready.”

“Which explains why they were so persistent about me telling you.” I take a seat on the bench a comfortable distance away. We sit in silence for a beat, the only sounds heard were from inside. “What are we gonna do?”

He sighs before reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket. He pulls out an envelope, looking at it in his hands before handing it to me.

I take it, “what’s this?” I open it and take out the contents. It’s his marriage license. “Why are you showing me this?”

“Look at it again.”

Glancing at it again, I notice something. The space where he’s supposed to sign it is blank. His bride’s signature is there as well as both of their mother’s signatures and the ministers but his is missing. Before I could ask, he spoke.

“I couldn’t sign it. I tried but...” he rings his hands together, stopping when his new ring bothered him, “...something inside was telling me not to.” He fidgets with the ring until he slips it off completely. “Nothing has felt right today. I woke up this morning, alone,” he sends a side glance at me, “and I just felt off, like there was a knot in my stomach, and it didn’t go away until... I saw you again. Seeing you dressed up for my wedding and you weren’t the one wearing white...” he shakes his head, “I realized that was it. You were the reason why this didn’t feel right.” He leans back, turning his head to finally look at me again, “It’s because it wasn’t you I was waiting for at the end of the aisle. Seeing you walking towards me only solidified it for me.“

Pinch me, I must be dreaming...

As much as I want to hear everything I’ve been dreaming of him saying, I interrupt him before he can continue, “Please, stop. You don’t have to say anything else.”

He twists his body towards me and takes my hands in his, “but I do! I do because I should have said all of this twenty years ago. I’ve been holding it in and now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.”

“I know. Believe me, I know. But...” I take my hands out of his and intertwine them behind his neck, he leans his forehead against mine. He scoops me up and sets me in his lap, securing his arms around my waist, “... you have someone inside who believes you are her husband and she’s your...” he squeezes my waist as he sees my struggle to call her what she is. I take a deep breath before continuing, “and because I love you-“

He looks up at me, “You do?” I nod. “Say it again.” The most adorable shy smile I’ve ever seen adorned his face in that moment, it made my heart melt entirely.

I take his face in my hands and look him straight in the eyes so he knows I’m being entirely truthful. “I love you.” He groans, burying his face in my neck as he pulls me impossibly closer. The vibrations from his groan tickle against my neck. “And it’s because I love you that I want do things right.”

He grabs the heavy piece of paper that was between us and holds it up, “I could tear this up right now completely invalidating it. We could walk out of here, together. Like it was always supposed to be.”

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. The man I love wants to be with me and he wants to start our lives together as soon as possible. We could grab our families, fly home, and be married by the end of the weekend. Oh how I would marry him tomorrow if I could.

For years I dreamt of that moment...

I’d wear a simple white gown with spaghetti straps or lace sleeves, an A-line skirt with some bling or not, I’m not picky. He would be in a cream or burgundy suit depending on the season. We’d be surrounded by our immediate family members and our closest friends on our special day then invite everyone we know to party with us later. We’d cry because this day was finally here- our moms would bawl together as well. But no one else would really matter. It would just be the two of us up there, confessing our never-ending love for the other until the officiant declared us husband and wife. I’d be pinching myself the entire day scared it would only be a dream that I would eventually wake up from.

Now that I find out my main source of happiness reciprocates my feelings, that dream is that much closer to becoming a reality.

However, there was still something he needs to do before any of that.

As much as I disliked her, she doesn’t deserve to be left on her wedding day without a word or an explanation. No one deserves that.

As that realization sinks in, shame fills my heart. She will be devastated when he tells her. She’ll experience anger, humiliation and probably a whole other range of emotions. She will be the victim of the media for a very long time, and in all honesty she’ll probably eat it up. She’ll play “the scorned women” for as long as they will pay attention to her.

That’s exactly what she’s done as “Chris Evans’s girlfriend/fiancée” since they went public with their relationship. She gained thousands on thousands of followers on all of her public social media pages. She milked the attention, jumping on any chance at a sponsorship or ad campaign. She also shared as many pictures and videos of Chris as she could, much to his dismay. He’d complain to me countless times about how he wished she wouldn’t share as much, how he wanted their relationship to be more private. He talked to her about it, too, just as many times, but she claimed she was “just giving the fans what they wanted.” The fact that she went against Chris’s wishes didn’t boost my opinion of her.

I sigh, “As much as I want to grab our parents and leave with you right now, there’s someone you need to talk to first.”

He sighs too knowing I’m right. “I know.”

I stand from his lap, the left half of my body instantly missing the warmth his was giving off. He stands too before pulling me back. His arms envelops me in a bone-crushing hug, his nose burying itself in my neck. “Can you say it again?” He whines.

I can’t help but cackle at his request. “I’ll tell you as many times as you want me to...” I pull back to look at him, “after you talk to her.”

He groans again, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Fine.”

“Finally!” We hear behind us. I turn to see Scott standing at the door to the terrace, “there you are! Dude, the mother and son dance is next! Get your ass in here!”

With that, our bubble breaks and we rejoin civilization. I don’t miss Scott’s look as Chris rushes passed him. I tell him to stop as he starts pestering me about what we were doing out there for so long. I try to tell him that it’s none of his business but he sees right through me. He is my other best friend after all.

As we make our way over to the bar, he quietly recounts what he saw earlier today from when he saw me this morning to when I walked down the aisle towards him, how he’d never seen his brother look that- “heartbroken” was his word- before and how instantly unemotional he was when his bride walked down. He also tells me that when he was lighting the unity candle that he snuck a peak at me. He swears he thought his brother almost said “fuck it” to the whole thing and rush over to me. Of course I didn’t see that so that was definitely news to me but it only confirmed what Chris had told me.

I feel the butterflies going awry in my stomach at the thought of Chris interrupting his wedding to check on me. What would I have done if I had looked up to see he was right in front of me? Would I have broken down right then and there? Would I have begged him to choose me instead? Would he have told me how he felt in front of everyone he knows, including the woman he was supposed to be marrying? How mortified would I have been if he did all of that? Or would I have completely skipped mortified and jumped immediately to elated?

“So who told you?” Scott’s question breaks me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?”

He repeats his question, “He clearly didn’t tell you given the way you rushed in here and stole him away for damn near a half hour. Shanna and I had a bet on if you two would even be coming back.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him, “Who won?”

“Not important.” In other words, not him. He asks for a third time no longer accepting my dodging methods.

Scott’s always been able to see right through me. That’s how he got me to confess my feelings for Chris. He’d badger me, I’d deflect, he’d ask again, I’d attempt to change the subject, but he wouldn’t have it. He’s always had that uncanny ability to make me spill all of my secrets. But he’s also the type of person who would take those aforementioned secrets to the grave. No matter how much he seemed like a blabbermouth on TV with spilling Chris’s secrets- says it was his brotherly duty- he has never said anything about mine.

Thankfully it was our turn to order our drinks so I got a reprieve for a bit. Before I could grab mine, he did. “Oh, no you don’t.” He places it out of my reach. “You don’t get this until you spill about what happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Bull! You haven’t smiled all day today except for this morning and when you walked away from that conversation. And don’t even try,” he sasses, “to hide the fact that I saw something between the two of you just now. Something was said and/or occurred.”

I strongly consider not telling him. He would want every single detail. If I did tell him, he no doubt wouldn’t be able to stop himself from celebrating. He would want to tell all of his siblings and his parents “IT’S HAPPENING!” as soon as I get done.

He’s said for over twenty years how much he wants me to officially be his sister. He’s begged me to tell Chris, literally pushing me into his vicinity (the room he’s in, his personal bubble, into his person- it never ended). He’s always been supportive of his brother and I possibly getting together. He’s teased me mercilessly since he first recognized my feelings.

However, not saying anything is what got me into this mess in the first place.

And he does the same thing that Chris does when he wants something- he abuses his pure blue eyes and gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes he can conjure and to add extra effect he occasionally juts out his bottom lip and bats his eyelashes. He didn’t try that this time but his big doe eyes were enough.

“Nothing happened,” I repeat. Just as he was about to interrupt, I beat him to it, “BUT,” he settles back down, “something was said.”

“I knew it!” He exclaims. “Tell me everything!”

I pull him away from the crowd and do just that. As expected, he was ecstatic that everything was finally out in the open. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest that our mothers blew the secret. He says he’s overheard them they talk about it constantly on the phone and in person. He’s also proud of me for confronting him, forcing him to tell me the truth. He was ready to depart back to Mass at the drop of a dime if that’s what we wanted to do, he was not going to miss the “most important event of his lifetime.”

I spend the rest of the night stealing glances from Chris, dancing with Sebastian, and trying to keep Scott in line. The last thing I said to him was I didn’t want him telling anyone else, even his sisters or his parents until Chris makes his decision.

Because there is a decision to make. Even though he said what he said to me doesn’t mean he will end things with his bride. He may completely change his mind when he sees his bride once she gets out of her wedding dress- I overheard her telling some of the bridesmaids about the lingerie she had underneath while I was getting my hair done. He could see her in a new light and decide to sign the marriage license.

I will accept whatever decision he makes no matter what. Because he is my best friend. I will accept whatever makes him the happiest even if it’s not with me.

I happily sigh as I retreat into my room. I fall onto the bed, thinking about what was said earlier tonight.

He loves me.

He couldn’t bring himself to sign his own marriage license because it didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right to him today until he saw me. He offered to tear up his marriage license and leave his own wedding reception to be with me. He was willing to risk everything to be with me.

Because we both know what will happen when the media gets ahold of this.

It will be a circus. A PR nightmare. Chris will likely be disliked by many, which he will think he deserves. He won’t take it lightly either. He may even go into hiding a.k.a. stay in Boston until something else inevitably knocks it out of the top spot.

I know there will be speculation as to why he left his fiancée on their wedding day. There will be awful headlines that will not be kind to him. And I know that no matter what he or anyone else says to counter those false headlines, no one will believe a word.

That’s the crappy nature of the media beast. Everyone will want to give their own opinions on the situation- most, if not all, will be negative.

I’m abruptly jolted awake by repetitive knocking on my door. I roll to my side, not even realizing I fell asleep in the first place. I didn’t even get a chance to change out of my dress before exhaustion from the day took over.

I turn towards the window to possibly gauge what time it is without looking at the clock. It’s barely daylight. The sky is a very light blue with the sunlight hardly mixing with it.

Glancing at the clock, my suspicions are correct. It’s just past 5:30.

I groan at the fact that I just managed to get three hours of sleep before I was so rudely awoken.

Speaking of, the knocking persists.

Peeling myself off the bed, I stumble to the door fully planning on giving the person a piece of my mind. How dare they interrupt my sleep! Don’t they know that women, especially me, need beauty sleep? Everyone who knows I’m here knew I had been out late. So whoever is on the other side of this door, I will not be pleasant to.

I hear my name muffled by the door followed by a “please, open up.” I’m pretty sure I’m not fully awake yet but I swear that, even though it was muffled, it sounded like Chris...

I open the door after struggling with the lock to see exactly who I thought it was.

Before I could start to chastise him, he speaks.

“I know you’re mad about being woken up, but we need to go.” He shoves passed me into my room and over to my suitcase. “I couldn’t talk to her, she was too drunk by the time we got back to our room. She slipped out of her dress, nearly tripping over the damn thing then passed out on the bed. I left my ring and the unsigned license on the table with a note. I couldn’t wait until she woke up.” He enters the bathroom now, coming out with all of the toiletries I left in there. He places them in my bag haphazardly before trying to zip it shut. “I know you wanted me to talk to her and I will... at a later date.“

“Christopher, stop,” I pull his hands away from my bag which he is about to break.

He sighs frustratedly before giving up on it completely. “I booked us a flight back home in two hours.” He pauses as he lets that sink in for me. “Let’s go. You and me. Just like I said.”

He’s choosing me. I can’t believe he’s choosing me over her. For years, I wished he would. I dreamed of the day he would finally wake up and see that the partner he’s searched for was right in front of him this whole time. Turns out he knew all along, he just didn’t have the guts to say anything until I confronted him about it.

I shake off the shock and the leftover sleepiness, “What-uh, what about our families? We can’t just leave them here.”

“It’s all taken care of.” He steps closer, running his hands from my shoulders down my arms until he intertwined our hands together. “I left them all messages letting them know what was going on.”

“You told them?”

He shrugs, “I had to. It didn’t feel right leaving them out of the loop. I mean they have wanted this as long as we have.”

In this profoundly serious moment, he manages to make me smile. I shouldn’t be surprised though. He’s been making me laugh or smile at the most inopportune and inappropriate times. During Family Game Nights was always his favorite. When we’d play Twister, he’d whisper something totally random into my ear and I’d burst out laughing therefore losing my balance. Also during my choir concerts, he loved sitting in my direct sight line and making faces at me.

He caresses my face with his hand, I lean into his touch. “So what do you say?”

“I’m in.”

No hesitation. No hint of reservations. Complete and total honesty. Zero regard for what he just did a few hours ago.

“God, I am all in.”

And finally, after the longest 20+ years of waiting and secretly pining, he kisses me.

I feel it in the deepest parts of my soul that this is right. This feeling is the most “right” I have ever felt in my entire life. He completes me in every way imaginable. What even was my life without him in it?

Six months later, we make it official in front of our families and closest friends in the Evans family backyard. Everything was exactly how I always pictured it. From my dress, the flowers, the way he looked at me when I walked down the aisle towards him... this time, there were tears of joy on both of our ends.

Our mothers cried. Scott cried. Everyone cried at the overwhelming feeling of love here between us and between our families, as we became one.

After the ceremony, there was still one more thing we had to do.

The minister pulls us aside and lays out our license on a table. I quickly scan it, like I have for a month prior to today, still in utter disbelief that we were finally together and taking this next step.

Something catches my eye as she’s filling out her portion.

Chris had already signed it.

I look to him at my side to see he has the giddiest smile on his perfect face.

“I couldn’t wait,” He admits shyly.

As if my heart couldn’t melt any more...

“Damn it, Christopher,” I dab away the happy tears before they fall. He kisses my cheek then my lips before it’s my turn to sign.

I write out my name with his last as I’ve doodled on countless pieces of paper over a million times before. It was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, besides say “yes” to marrying the love of my life.

The minister makes the “you’ve been practicing” comment as I hand her back the pen.

Oh she has no idea...

Our moms tearfully do their part as witnesses, both embracing us after unable to contain how overjoyed they are for us.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Evans.” She shakes our hands after tucking the license into its designated envelope then takes her leave.

Lisa is the first to comment on our future children while we take a few quick photos. “Now don’t be waiting too long to start trying. We’ve been waiting long enough for this day.”

Chris and I laugh before I happily reply, “I promise you won’t have to wait for much longer,” with my hand on my stomach.

The looks on all of their faces was captured by our photographer as we had planned.

Having just found out yesterday morning, I couldn’t wait to tell all of them. I figured this moment was the best possible.

As they bombard the both of us with hugs and even more tears, I can’t wipe the smile from my face.

Everything is coming together as it always should have been. The man I’m hopelessly in love with is now my husband, his family is officially my own as well, and we have created a miracle with the love we have for each other.

Later that night, we’re lying in bed with his hand on my stomach, his new ring is proudly on his finger, where it will stay for as long as we both shall live.

He whispers how much he loves me and how happy he is like he has just about every day since we got together. The same butterflies go awry in my stomach, or that might be the baby’s movements.

Either way, I fall asleep as I am, even though my dreams couldn’t possibly beat my new reality.

Everything is at long last right in the world. Or at least in mine.

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality

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