Page 169 of Sparks Fly

For a second everything else in the room stopped existing. I had seen Addison in a thousand different moments over the last year and a half. I had seen her in sweatpants in our kitchen at midnight while she scrolled through listings on her laptop. I had seen her standing barefoot in our backyard with dirt on her hands after planting something she insisted would grow better this time. I had seen her leaning against the doorframe of the workshop watching sparks fly while I worked.

None of those moments prepared me for this one.

The dress was white and elegant in a way that somehow still looked like her. The fabric moved softly around her as she walked, and the light from the windows caught in her hair in a way that made the whole room feel brighter.

She looked straight at me. Not at the guests. Not at the flowers. Just at me.

I felt something in my chest shift so hard that I had to take a slow breath to keep my footing.

Benji leaned toward me again.

“You’re staring,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

Addison’s father walked beside her with one hand resting lightly on her arm, and when they reached the front of the aisle he paused before stepping back.

He looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded.

The gesture was simple, but it carried a weight I understood perfectly. Take care of her. I nodded back. Addison stepped forward until she stood right in front of me.

Up close the details hit harder.

The way her hands trembled just slightly when she reached for mine. The way her eyes looked bright with emotion she was trying very hard not to let spill over. The way she smiled at me like the rest of the room had disappeared.

“You look incredible,” I said quietly.

She laughed softly under her breath. “So do you.”

“You’re shaking,” I said.

“So are you,” she replied.

The officiant cleared her throat gently. “We’re gathered here today,” she began, “to celebrate the marriage of Addison and Sawyer…”

Her voice carried through the room, but most of the words blurred together as I focused on the feeling of Addison’s hands in mine. Warm. Steady. Real.

The officiant spoke about commitment and partnership and the way two lives could grow stronger together. I caught pieces of it, but the important part was standing right in front of me.

Eventually the officiant smiled and nodded toward us.

“We’ll begin with vows,” she said.

Addison looked at me first.

She took a small breath and tightened her fingers around mine before she started speaking.

“When I met you,” she said, her voice steady but soft, “I thought loving you would complicate my life.” A few quiet laughs moved through the room. She smiled slightly. “I spent a lot of time worrying about where you would fit. I thought the worlds I knew were too different from yours, and I was afraid that if I brought you into them something would break.”

Her thumb brushed lightly across the back of my hand.

“What I didn’t understand then was that you weren’t the risk,” she continued. “You were the answer.”

My chest tightened.

“You taught me what it feels like to stop pretending,” she said. “You showed me that the people who really love you don’t disappear when you tell the truth. They move closer.” She took another breath. “I promise to build a life with you that feels honest and warm and full of the things we both love. I promise to show up for you even when things are messy or hard. I promise to keep choosing you the way I did that night in our kitchen when you asked me to marry you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.” Her smile widened slightly. “And I promise to keep loving you in the quiet moments that no one else sees, because those are the ones that matter most.”

The room was silent when she finished. The officiant looked at me. “Your turn.”