Chapter 76 Wedding Bells
Chapter 76 Wedding Bells
Sloane POV
—
Wedding planning had been a whirlwind, but with me at the center, it felt more like magic than chaos. Between me, Lila, and Rhea, every detail was discussed, debated, and meticulously perfected. Lila buzzed around like an excited whirlwind, throwing ideas and color palettes everywhere, while Rhea, ever the perfectionist, insisted on precise measurements and flower placements.
One evening, I called them both into the apartment, nerves twisting in my stomach. I had a very important question to ask, and I wanted it to be perfect.
“Okay,” I began, my voice trembling just slightly. “I need to ask you two something important.”
Lila leaned forward, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“I want you both to be my bridesmaids,” I said, forcing a calm smile. “But Lila…” I paused dramatically. “I want you to be my maid of honor.”
Lila’s eyes went wide, and she practically squealed. “Do you know what this means?” she shrieked, barely containing herself. “I get to boss everyone around, plan the bachelorette, and make you cry while I look fabulous doing it?!”
“Yes,” I laughed, shaking my head. “And yes, you get to make me cry.”
Rhea bounced in her chair. “And I get to be the bridesmaid who ensures you’re flawless? Absolutely. I’m in.”
I felt my heart swell. With these two by my side, I knew my wedding would feel like family, the kind you choose, not just the one you’re born into.
—
Dalton’s own preparations were equally deliberate. Marc had been thrilled to accept the role of best man. Hayden had agreed to stand beside him as well. Both had quietly promised to protect Dalton from the usual wedding chaos, and maybe even keep him from panicking.
Dalton himself had been calmer than I expected, though I caught him pacing a little that morning. He’d muttered something about nerves and “hoping everything goes right,” but mostly, he just looked at me and smiled.
My family’s approval had been instant. My parents had embraced Dalton from the start, always treating him as one of their own. My father, who usually said very little, had pulled Dalton aside the day we set the date.
“Just promise me one thing,” he said, voice serious but kind. “Treat her right. That’s all I ask.”
Dalton’s nod was firm, eyes meeting my father’s with a quiet intensity. I had felt a warmth bloom inside me at that small moment, a silent pact, a trust.
—
The planning meetings flowed naturally from there: floral arrangements, dress fittings, invitations, music selection. Lila and I spent hours discussing bridesmaid dresses, debating shades until we found the perfect emerald that made my eyes shine. Rhea, determined to be useful, took over the seating chart, ensuring that friends, family, and Dalton’s close group of friends would all be comfortably placed.
My dress was perfect as well. White, satin, halter top dress with a bodycon skirt. It had a long train with a slit up one leg.
Dalton and his friends weren’t left out of the decision-making, either. Marc had been instrumental in helping Dalton choose the perfect tux, tailored just right, sharp but understated, and Hayden had offered dry, sarcastic commentary at every stage. “You’re not nervous at all, are you?” Hayden had asked, smirking, when Dalton debated cufflinks for the third time.
“I am,” Dalton admitted quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… I want this. I want her. And I want it to be perfect for her.”
Marc clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Then stop worrying. You’ve got the right people around you. We’ll make sure you don’t mess it up.”
And Dalton, looking at me across the room, smiling despite nerves and jitters, felt the weight of the world lift slightly.
—
The night before the wedding, I sat with my family, finalizing the last details and going over small, personal touches: handkerchiefs for tears, special songs, and a few surprises for the ceremony. His parents were radiant with pride, Katherine giving me that warm, motherly smile, and Chris reassuring me that everything would be perfect.
My dad’s voice softened as he placed a hand on mine. “You’ve grown into an incredible woman, Sloane. And I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. Just… make sure he knows how lucky he is to have you.”
“I think he does,” I whispered, smiling through the tears that pricked my eyes.
My parents’ love, combined with the excitement of my friends and the steady presence of Dalton’s friends, created a perfect mix of joy and anticipation. The kind of calm before the storm that made my heart race in a wonderful way.
And soon, that storm would arrive: the morning of the wedding, the soft light spilling over the lake, the flowers in bloom, the chairs neatly arranged, and Dalton waiting at the altar, ready to see me in a way no one else ever had.
I inhaled deeply. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the rest of our lives, surrounded by everyone who mattered most.
The morning of the wedding was calm, almost serene. The lake shimmered in the early sunlight, its surface broken only by the occasional ripple from a passing duck or a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. White chairs were arranged in neat rows on the grass, lined with delicate floral arrangements, each one chosen carefully by me and my bridesmaids. Candles flickered softly in glass holders, and a soft acoustic melody filled the air, blending seamlessly with the birdsong.
My heart raced as I adjusted the final touches on my dress. Lila hovered nearby, fussing over the hem with meticulous care. “Perfect,” I said finally, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “Absolutely perfect.”
Rhea, determined to be useful, made sure the veil sat just right and even brushed away a few loose curls that threatened to escape. “No one is allowed to ruin this,” she said, arms crossed, fierce and protective.
I smiled, taking a deep breath. All of the chaos, the planning, the laughter, it had led to this moment.
My father approached, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Remember what I said?” he murmured. “Walk with your head high, and make sure he knows how lucky he is.”
“I will,” I said, squeezing his hand before stepping toward the aisle.
Dalton waited at the altar, his eyes fixed on me as I began to walk. The world seemed to fade around us. All the noise, all the movement, all the people, none of it mattered except for the man who had changed my life in so many ways.
As I reached him, our hands met, warm and reassuring. He whispered, “You look incredible,” and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks.
The officiant cleared his throat gently, signaling the start of the vows. Dalton spoke first, voice low but steady.
“Sloane,” he said, eyes never leaving mine, “from the moment I met you, I knew my life would never be the same. You’ve challenged me, grounded me, and made me a better man. I promise to choose you every day, to support you, to love you fiercely, and to never take a single moment with you for granted.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I laughed softly, shaking my head through the emotion.
“And you, Dalton,” I replied, “are my home, my calm, my chaos. You make me laugh when I don’t feel like it, lift me when I fall, and love me in ways I never thought possible. I promise to grow with you, stand by you, and love you with every fiber of my being.”
Hayden and Marc exchanged glances, both grinning under their controlled exteriors. The air hummed with emotion, and for a brief moment, even the soft breeze seemed to pause.
When it came time for the rings, Dalton gently slid the delicate band onto my finger. My hand trembled slightly, not from nerves but from sheer joy. I returned the gesture, fitting the ring on his finger with equal care.
“By the power vested in me,” the officiant said, a soft smile on his face, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The small crowd erupted in applause, laughter, and a few tears. Dalton pressed his forehead to mine, whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whispered back, letting myself melt into his kiss.
And then, with a shared grin, we turned toward the guests, hands clasped, ready to celebrate the next chapter of our lives.
—
The reception was set up just steps away, a garden tent illuminated with fairy lights, long tables adorned with candles and delicate floral arrangements. Soft music played in the background, blending with the gentle murmur of excited conversation.
Marc, ever the entertainer, whispered something in Dalton’s ear, prompting a smirk that quickly morphed into his first toast. “Dalton’s always been stubborn,” he began, grinning, “but Sloane has finally shown him who’s really in charge. And for that, we’re all grateful. To the happy couple!” Glasses clinked, laughter erupted, and Dalton’s chest swelled with pride.
Hayden followed, dry humor softened with heartfelt warmth. “You two balance each other perfectly. He keeps her grounded, she keeps him… alive. I’ve known Dalton for years, and this is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. Thank you, Sloane, for being his anchor.”
Lila, beaming, took her turn as maid of honor, teasing me mercilessly before ending with a heartfelt declaration of love. “You’re my best friend, Sloane,” she said, tears shining. “And I’ve never seen you this happy. Thank you for letting me stand beside you today.”
I rose afterward, heart swelling. “I just want to thank everyone for being here, for loving us, for making today everything we could’ve dreamed of.”
—
Dinner followed with clinking glasses, laughter, and soft music weaving through the conversations. Guests mingled, sharing stories and memories of the couple’s journey, from me and Dalton’s first awkward meetings to the nights of laughter, small heartbreaks, and victories we had shared along the way.
I found myself caught in moments of quiet reflection between bursts of laughter. My parents beamed, clearly proud of the woman I had become. Rhea fussed over everyone, making sure drinks stayed full and plates were cleared, while Lila leaned close to whisper her ongoing observations, usually teasing, sometimes profound.
Dalton was in his element, but differently than he had ever been. He wasn’t just charming or protective, he was present, fully, utterly, and completely devoted to me. Marc and Hayden flanked him as steady anchors, but I could tell he had been holding my gaze across the room whenever he had the chance, silently memorizing every detail of my smile, the way my eyes sparkled in candlelight, the way I laughed at jokes only he could make me laugh at.
—
The first dances came naturally. Dalton took my hand, leading me to the small space cleared for us in the middle of the tent. The music was soft, sweet, a melody we had chosen together.
As we swayed, I rested my head on his shoulder, letting myself soak in the moment. “I can’t believe this day,” I whispered.
Dalton kissed the top of my head. “Me neither. But it’s perfect. All of it, because you’re here.”
Our friends and family circled us, clapping along, laughing, occasionally wiping away tears. Lila and Rhea joined in the dancing, creating a lively, joyful circle around the couple.
Marc sidled up beside Dalton at one point. “Not a bad gig, huh?”
Dalton chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah… best day of my life.”
—
As the night wore on, the toasts had transitioned into casual conversations and spontaneous laughter. I noticed my father talking quietly with Dalton, giving him a rare, approving smile. Katherine and Chris had settled into a corner with friends, watching the festivities with warm pride.
Finally, I rose again, clearing my throat just enough to catch everyone’s attention. “I just… I want to say thank you to everyone for being here. For loving us, for supporting us, for making this day unforgettable.” My voice cracked slightly, but I smiled through it.
“And,” I added, glancing at Dalton and placing a hand over my stomach, “we wanted to share one more little surprise with everyone…”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Dalton, confused, looked up at me, eager for my answer.
I took a deep breath, glanced at Dalton, and smiled mischievously.
Eyes turned toward me, curiosity sparking across the room. Dalton, confused, squeezed my hand, and the room fell into eager silence.
My smile widened. “We’re expecting a baby.”