Chapter 88 The wedding wasn’t dramatic
Saraphina
Six Months Later
Kauai, Hawaii
The first thing I noticed was how calm everything felt. It wasn’t silence. I could hear the ocean in the distance, the wind moving through the palm trees, and Ryan’s father somewhere behind us shifting his weight in the sand. But inside me, there was a quiet I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind that settles in your chest when you stop fighting something and realize you don’t have to anymore.
I wasn’t nervous. That surprised me.
For years, I told myself I was just being careful. I said I was thinking about our jobs, about where we would live, about timing, about making smart decisions. I convinced myself that love wasn’t enough on its own. That we needed everything else lined up perfectly first.
But standing there barefoot in the sand, my dress brushing against my ankles, Ryan looking at me like I was the only steady thing in his world, I understood something I used to be too afraid to admit. Real love doesn’t ask you to give up your life. It asks you to build one together.
When he took my hands, I felt the slight shake in his fingers. It was small, but I felt it. This man who argued with me over everything, who once stood on a rooftop trying to prepare himself for me saying no, was still scared of losing me.
“I’m not running,” I whispered so only he could hear.
He let out a long breath, and I saw the tension leave him.
The wedding wasn’t dramatic. There were no big speeches or grand promises about forever. We kept it simple. We promised to stay. To talk when things felt hard. To not let pride win. To not let silence build walls between us. We promised to try, even on the days when trying felt heavy.
When he placed the ring on my finger, I didn’t feel fireworks. I didn’t feel rush or panic. I felt steady. Like something had finally clicked into place.
This wasn’t the wild kind of love we once stumbled into. It wasn’t messy or rushed. We weren’t clinging to each other because we were afraid of losing the moment. We had already almost lost each other once. That changed us.
Later, when everyone started heading back toward the house and the sky slowly turned gold, I stood beside him and watched the ocean. His arm wrapped around my waist without him even thinking about it, like that’s just where I belonged.
“I didn’t think I would feel this calm on my wedding day,” I said quietly.
He looked down at me with that soft smile I love.
“Maybe that’s what happens when you’re ready,” he said.
I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. It was strong and steady.
We didn’t run this time. We stayed. And for the first time in my life, staying didn’t feel like fear. It felt like strength.
Ryan
One Year Later
Kauai, Hawaii
Marriage wasn’t what I expected. I thought it would feel big and dramatic all the time. I imagined it would feel like that rooftop moment forever, like something was always about to slip away if I didn’t hold on tight enough. I used to think love had to feel urgent to be real. But that’s not how it turned out.
Most of the time, it’s quiet. It’s waking up before her and watching the way the sunlight falls across her shoulder. It’s her stealing the blankets and pretending she doesn’t remember doing it. It’s having long talks about whether we should split our time between New York and Hawaii and realizing that the conversation isn’t about who wins. It’s about building something that works for both of us.
It’s the long distance we survived turning into shared space. It’s plane tickets becoming one home address. It’s milkshakes after hard days. It’s learning to listen instead of defending myself right away. It’s choosing to stay in the room when a conversation gets uncomfortable.
It’s not dramatic. It’s steady and it takes patience. It takes choosing each other even when we’re tired or frustrated or unsure.
Some nights we sit on the porch and talk about nothing important. Other mornings we drink coffee in silence. But underneath those small moments is something stronger than what we had before. There’s trust. There’s certainty. We don’t need to prove anything to each other anymore.
She chose me. I chose her. And now we keep choosing each other in small, ordinary ways that matter more than the big dramatic ones ever did.
On my birthday this year, she handed me a milkshake again. I laughed before I even read the note taped to the side.
It said, “Still yes.”
I looked at her standing in the kitchen barefoot, wearing one of my old shirts like it belonged to her, hair messy, smiling at me like she knew exactly what that note would do. I didn’t feel panic this time. I didn’t feel fear that she would change her mind.
I just felt grateful. If someone had told me years ago that love would look like this, calmer, quieter, deeper, I wouldn’t have believed it. But standing here, in the house I grew up in, with the woman who once scared me because I loved her too much, I finally understand.
Love isn’t about holding on because you’re afraid of losing someone. It’s about knowing they’re staying. And now, we’re not running in different directions anymore. We’re home. Together.
End
New Story: He Protected Me Like a Brother, Wanted Me Like a Man
Blurb:
Sophie thought losing her cheating boyfriend was the worst thing that could happen. She was wrong. Forced into her mother’s billionaire household, Sophie walks straight into the unfinished past with her stepbrother, Liam Thorne.
He owns the city. He owns the room she’s sleeping in. And he makes it painfully clear that she does not belong.
But when Sophie is in a dangerous situation, Liam becomes her shield. He is ruthless, protective, and impossible to ignore. She should hate him. She should leave. But some forbidden bonds don’t fade. They burn.
Beginning of chapter one:
Sophie’s
My stomach was full of butterflies. I adjusted the little gift bag in my hand and took a deep breath, a smile already on my face. This was going to be the best surprise. I am standing outside my boyfriend’s apartment. I just got off a ten-hour flight from one side of the country to the other. I changed planes more than once, then rode the subway, then a bus. All of it just to get here in time to surprise him for his birthday and here I am. Listening to him fuck another woman right behind that door.
“Oh god… yes, Jordan… just like that…”
I can hear everything. The bed shaking. Skin slapping together. The low groans. I press my hand hard over my mouth so I do not scream. All those times he asked me to come visit. And this is what he does? He cheats on me? I feel sick.