Chapter 251
Chapter 251
Riley gave a quiet laugh beside her and said nothing.
In the corner on the other side of the pergola stood a cluster of white instruments — a harp, a piano, and a cello.
The musicians sat there in pale-colored clothes, speaking softly among themselves. The harp strings caught the dim light in tiny scattered glints. When the breeze came through, the hanging flower garlands swayed gently, and a few small petals drifted down onto the dark ground, rolling a few inches in the wind before coming to rest.
By the time Vivian stepped out, nearly every seat outside was already filled.
The white wedding dress she wore had a soft, quiet sheen in the light. The fabric was a linen-silk blend with a fine, close texture you could see up close.
The neckline was a shallow curve — no embroidery, no lace — just a very thin silver chain tracing the edge, with a small pearl hanging from its end. The skirt spread out from the waist, and with each step it would gather slightly at the ankles before opening again.
She stopped at the start of the path and stood beside the first shrub, which had been trimmed into a perfect round shape. Sunlight came through a break in the clouds and laid a thin wash of warmth across her shoulders.
She looked up toward the pergola at the far end of the path. Arthur was already there. He wore a dark gray jacket with clean, simple lines, a white shirt underneath, no tie, the collar left open in a loose curve.
He stood at the other end, his gaze settling on her — soft and steady, like a thin layer of light.
Sadie had gotten up the moment Vivian came out.
She slipped around the side path to the area behind the pergola and picked up a small white box. The lid was open, and inside was a bouquet tied with a pale ribbon — more delicate than anything in the basket she'd had earlier.
"For you," Sadie said.
Vivian bent her head to take it. The flowers were soft in color — white and green with a touch or two of pale yellow, bound loosely with twine.
She looked up at Sadie with the bouquet in her hands. Sadie's mouth curved slightly, not a big smile, but a real one — she was genuinely happy for her.
She didn't say anything like "congratulations." She just stepped back after handing over the flowers, hands clasped behind her back, and said: "Go on. The flowers — Rach made them."
Vivian's head snapped up.
She had a feeling. Rachel was here.
Rachel was standing behind an old oak tree at the side of the pergola, rooted to the spot as if she couldn't move a single step.
She hadn't been supposed to be in Country M today. She'd only just come back to herself after that late-night conversation at Kilburn Villa and was looking for somewhere to catch her breath when Sadie sent her a message — just an address and one line: "Come by if you're free today."
She'd assumed Sadie needed her for something. When she arrived, she found a wedding in progress.
Rachel stood in the shadow of the old oak, her gaze moving through the white chairs and pale green ribbons to the woman standing just in front of the pergola.
She knew that face too well.
She knew that silhouette too well.
The person she thought she'd never see again in her life was standing less than thirty feet away, in a white gown, holding a pale bouquet, looking up at a man in a dark gray suit.
Rachel's hand tightened around the bark at the edge of the tree. Her nails pressed into the rough grain, and her knuckles went white.
Her breathing slowed, but each breath was heavy — like something inside her chest was being wrung and then released.
She thought about Vivian's funeral. The body lying in the casket. The moments she'd stood in that hall and cried so hard she couldn't hold herself upright.
She was still caught in those thoughts when the woman standing before the pergola finished speaking with Sadie and glanced in the direction of the old oak.
Their eyes met.
Vivian saw Rachel standing under that oak tree — pale jacket, one hand gripping the bark, an expression like she was looking at something that had no right to exist.
The hand holding the bouquet tightened slightly. The twine around the stems pressed a faint line into her palm.
Rachel stepped out from behind the old oak.
Her feet moved over the grass, already worn flat, and she stopped a few steps short of Vivian. She didn't keep walking. She didn't speak.
She stood there and looked into Vivian's eyes, like she needed to confirm with her own eyes that what she was seeing was real.
Vivian took a step forward.
"Rach."
Rachel stayed where she was. Her lips moved but made no sound. When she finally spoke, her voice was lower than usual, like something was lodged halfway up her throat: "You're alive."
Vivian took another step forward.
"I'm sorry," she said. Not loud, but enough for Rachel to hear.
She didn't offer long explanations or try to put into words everything that had already happened. She just stood there, one step away, and looked Rachel in the eyes.
When Rachel looked down, the tears fell — landing on the front of her pale jacket, spreading into small dark spots. She wiped them away, and when she looked up again her voice was steadier: "Have you been in Country M this whole time?"
"Most of it."
"No one ever told me."
"I didn't know how to tell you."
Rachel crossed the distance and pulled her into a hug. She knew — all those days she hadn't been told, Vivian must have been carrying a lot too.
"That dress is the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen."
Vivian glanced down at the skirt, then looked back up at her, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile.
Nearby, Dr. Hoffman leaned toward Sadie and said under his breath: "Who is that? I've never seen her before."
Sadie glanced at him, then back toward the old oak tree. "Her best friend," she said.
Riley sat in her chair without turning around, but she raised her phone toward the pergola and let the camera take in the moment.
The path was white, and soft underfoot.
On both sides, a bouquet of roses stood every few steps, each one trailing a small wooden tag written over in fine script — full of words wishing them well.