Chapter 77 The Wedding
Harper's POV,
I woke up on my wedding day to Maya sitting on the edge of my bed holding coffee and a box of donuts.
"Good morning, bride," she said, way too cheerfully for seven AM. "Time to get married."
I groaned and pulled the pillow over my face. "It's too early. The wedding isn't until two."
"Which gives us seven hours to get you ready. Hair, makeup, dress, existential crisis, more coffee. We have a schedule." She yanked the pillow away. "Up. Now. Drink this."
I sat up, taking the coffee. "Where's Crew?"
"At David's place. Sponsor tradition. David wanted to make sure Crew didn't spiral before the ceremony." She opened the donut box. "Also Ryan flew in last night. He's with them. Apparently they're having some kind of male bonding breakfast and talking about feelings."
"Crew doesn't talk about feelings."
"Crew in recovery talks about feelings. It's his whole personality now. Very emotionally available. You're welcome." She bit into a donut. "Now drink your coffee and let's make you look like a bride."
I showered while Maya set up her makeup station on the bathroom counter. When I came out, she had enough products laid out to stock a small cosmetics store.
"Maya, it's a city hall wedding. I don't need a full glam makeover."
"You're getting married. You're wearing more than mascara and lip gloss. Sit down and let me work."
I sat. She worked. For an hour, she did my makeup—not heavy, just enough to make me look like an elevated version of myself. Natural but polished. Glowing without looking like I was trying too hard.
Then hair. She curled it in loose waves, pinned back one side with a simple clip she'd brought.
"There," she said finally, turning me toward the mirror. "You look like you. Just the bridal version."
I stared at my reflection. She was right. I looked like myself. But different somehow. Happier. Lighter. Like the past four months had stripped away all the weight I'd been carrying and this was who I was underneath.
"I'm getting married today," I said quietly as Maya squeezed my shoulder. "To someone who actually chooses you. Who sees you and values you and doesn't make you small. That's huge, Harper."
"Four months ago I was broke and facing prison time and living on your couch."
"And now you're married and running your own clinic and thriving in Vancouver. Life changes fast when you actually make choices instead of letting things happen to you." She handed me the dress I'd bought online three days ago. "Now put this on before I start crying and ruin my own makeup."
The dress was simple. White. Knee-length. Nothing fancy, just clean lines and elegant simplicity. I'd found it on sale, spent two hundred dollars, didn't overthink it.
But when I put it on, it felt right. Like this was exactly what I was supposed to wear to marry Crew Lawson at Vancouver City Hall on a Friday afternoon in October.
Maya zipped me up. Stepped back. Started crying anyway.
"Maya—"
"I'm just proud. Okay? I'm allowed to be proud." She wiped her eyes carefully. "You've come so far. And you're about to marry someone who's done the same work you have. Someone who's building a life instead of just surviving. That matters, Harper. That really matters."
My phone buzzed. Text from Crew: David says I'm not allowed to text you on our wedding day until after the ceremony. But I'm texting you anyway. I love you. See you at 2.
I typed back: I love you too. Don't spiral. We're doing this.
I'm not spiraling. I'm just excited. 80 days clean and getting married to you. Life is weird.
Life is good. Now stop texting me and listen to David.
Maya drove us to City Hall at one-thirty. We were early but I was too nervous to wait at home any longer. Crew was already there, standing on the steps with David and Ryan.
He was wearing a dark suit I'd never seen before. Hair styled. Clean-shaven. Looking nervous and excited and like he might throw up or cry or both.
When he saw me get out of the car, his entire face changed. Relief. Joy. Love.
I walked up the steps. He met me halfway.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
"You look beautiful."
"You look terrified."
"I'm not terrified. I'm just—" He took a breath. "I'm eighty days clean and I'm about to marry you. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this will all be a dream."
"It's not a dream. It's real. We're real." I grabbed his hand. "Ready?"
"So ready."
Inside, City Hall was exactly what you'd expect. Bureaucratic. Efficient. No romantic atmosphere, just fluorescent lights and beige walls and the smell of government buildings everywhere.
But the woman at the desk smiled when she saw us. "Lawson wedding?"
"That's us."
"Room 3. Your officiant is waiting. Congratulations."
Room 3 was small. Maybe fifteen feet by fifteen feet. A desk at the front. Six chairs for guests. A window looking out at nothing particularly scenic.
The officiant was a man in his sixties wearing a simple suit. He introduced himself as Robert, shook our hands, explained the ceremony would take about fifteen minutes.
"Any special vows you'd like to include?" he asked.
Crew and I looked at each other. We hadn't written vows. Hadn't planned anything beyond showing up.
"Just the standard ones," I said. "We're keeping it simple."
"Simple works." Robert pulled out a folder. "Take your seats. We'll begin when everyone's ready."
Maya, David, and Ryan sat in the three chairs. Crew and I stood at the front. Robert opened his folder.
"We're gathered here today to witness the marriage of Crew Lawson and Harper Sinclair. Marriage is a commitment between two people who choose each other. Who promise to show up. To do the work. To build a life together even when it's hard."
I felt Crew's hand tighten on mine.
"Crew, do you take Harper to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"
"I do." His voice shook slightly but he said it clearly.
"Harper, do you take Crew to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"
"I do."
"The rings?"
David handed Crew a simple silver band. Ryan handed me another one. We'd bought them two days ago at a jewelry store in Gastown. Nothing fancy. Just solid metal that would last.
Crew slid the ring onto my finger. "With this ring, I marry you."
I slid his ring on. "With this ring, I marry you."
Robert smiled. "By the power vested in me by the Province of British Columbia, I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."
Crew pulled me close and kissed me. Not performative. Not for the audience. Just for us.
Behind us, Maya started crying audibly. David clapped. Ryan wolf-whistled.
When we pulled apart, Crew whispered, "We did it. We're actually married."
"Yes"
We signed the paperwork. Made it official. Robert gave us our marriage certificate in a folder with the Province of British Columbia seal on it.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Lawson."
Mrs. Lawson. Harper Lawson. I'd spent thirty years as Harper Sinclair. Now I was Harper Lawson.
It felt right.
Outside on the City Hall steps, Maya made us pose for photos. Nothing professional, just her phone, capturing the moment. Crew in his suit. Me in my white dress. Both of us grinning like idiots.
"One with everyone," Maya directed. She handed her phone to a passing stranger. "Can you take a photo of all five of us?"
We crowded together on the steps. Crew and me in the center. Maya, David, and Ryan around us. Found family. The people who mattered.
The stranger took several photos, handed the phone back. Maya immediately posted one to Instagram with the caption: My best friend married her person today. Couldn't be happier for these two idiots. Welcome to forever.
"You posted already?" I asked.
"The world needs to know. Also your mother-in-law follows me now and she deserves to see this."
"My mother follows you on Instagram?"
"She requested me last week. We've been DMing. She's lovely. Very proud of you." Maya showed me the comments already coming in. Crew's mom had commented: My beautiful boy. So proud. Can't wait to meet Harper properly.
Crew looked over my shoulder, reading. His eyes got wet. "My mom's never commented on social media before. She doesn't even post."
"She posts now. About you. Because she's proud." Maya hugged him. "Congrats, Crew. You married my best friend. Don't screw it up."
"I'll try really hard not to."
We went to dinner at the restaurant where Crew had first told me he loved me—the farm-to-table place with the small portions and big prices. Marcus had recommended it back in August when we'd first moved to Vancouver.
The five of us—Crew, me, Maya, David, Ryan—squeezed into a table meant for four. Ordered too much food. Drank sparkling water (for Crew and David) and wine (for everyone else).
Ryan raised his glass. "To Crew and Harper. Who met through a fake dating scheme, fell in love anyway, moved cities, fought battles, and somehow ended up here. Married. Thriving. Proving that messy beginnings can have good endings."
"To messy beginnings," Maya echoed.
We toasted. Ate. Talked. Laughed too loud. The other diners kept glancing over, probably annoyed by our volume.
I didn't care. This was my wedding reception. Five people in a restaurant. No decorations. No dancing. No speeches. Just dinner with people who mattered.
Halfway through the meal, Ryan pulled me aside when I went to the bathroom.
"I need to say something," he said. "Take care of him. Crew. He's different now. Better. Because of you."
"He was always this person. He just needed space to become himself again."
"Maybe. But you gave him that space. You saw him at his worst and didn't run. That matters." Ryan looked uncomfortable, like expressing feelings wasn't his strong suit. "Just—thank you. For not giving up on him. The rest of us were worried he wouldn't make it. But you believed he would. And you were right."
"He did the work. I just stood next to him while he did it."
"That's still something. That's partnership." Ryan smiled slightly. "You're good for him, Harper. Better than anyone expected when Maya first pitched this fake dating disaster."
"It was a disaster. But it worked out."
"The best things usually are disasters first."
I went back to the table. Crew was talking to David about something—recovery stuff, based on their serious expressions. Maya was showing Ryan photos on her phone, probably embarrassing pictures of me from college.
This was my family now. Found family. The kind you choose instead of being born into.
We stayed at the restaurant until they closed at ten PM. The staff was polite but clearly wanted us gone so they could clean up. We paid, left a generous tip, walked out into October Vancouver.
Cold now. Fall settling in. The mountains dark shapes against the darker sky.
Maya hugged me tight. "I'll see you tomorrow. Brunch. My treat. It's the least I can do after watching you get married."
David and Ryan said their goodbyes. Crew hugged David for a long moment. "Thank you. For everything. For keeping me sane today."
"That's what sponsors do. Now go home with your wife and be married."
Crew and I walked to our car. Drove home in comfortable silence. Parked in the underground garage. Took the elevator up to our floor.
Inside the apartment, everything looked the same. But different somehow. Because we were different. Married. Actually married.
I kicked off my heels. Crew loosened his tie.
"We did it," he said quietly.
"We did it."
"Harper Lawson." He tested the name. "How does it feel?"
"Good. Strange. Right." I moved closer.
"Terrifying. Amazing. Like everything finally makes sense." He pulled me against him. "I can't believe you actually married."
"Oh, you thought I wouldn't?"
He kissed me. Soft at first, then deeper. We made it to the bedroom eventually. Fell asleep tangled together, still in our wedding clothes because we were too tired to change.
Eighty days clean. One day married. Infinite possibilities ahead.
I fell asleep thinking: this is what happiness feels like. Not perfect. Not without fear. Just good. Actually, genuinely good.
And for the first time in years, that felt like enough.