Page 25 of Marrying His Brother

Emily watches me for a second longer, her eyes searching mine. She lets go of my arm, but the worry is still etched on her face.

I force my focus back on Jack.

“I’ve seen Andrew in some pretty intense situations. I’ve seen him lead with bravery; I’ve seen him stay calm when everything around us was falling apart. There’s no one I’d trust more to have my back—and today, I can see he’s going to be that for Emily too.”

My heart is still hammering in my chest. That was too close. Too fucking close. I was a step away from a full-blown episode.

“Emily,” Jack continues. “You’re in good hands. I’ve never seen Andrew step up the way he has for you, and that says a lot. I know he’s going to give you everything he’s got, because that’s the kind of man he is.”

The room is quiet, save for the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional murmur. Jack grins, lightening the mood again. “So, here’s to Andrew and Emily. To a lifetime of laughter, strength, and maybe a little patience—for each other and for life’s surprises.”

The speech ends, and there’s applause. I join in, but I feel like I’ve just come off a battlefield, not a wedding reception. Emily leans in again, her voice soft.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod again, this time more firmly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Jack raises his glass, and the guests follow suit, toasting us. I lift my own glass, avoiding Emily’s eyes. What did she see? Did I give anything away? Fuck. It’s our wedding day and I’ve already fucked up.

As Jack sits back down, I lean over and whisper to him, “Thanks man, that was great.”

Jack just grins and clinks his glass against mine. “Anytime, brother.”

As the applause for Jack’s speech fades, the MC steps forward again, a bright smile on his face. “And now, it’s time for the maid of honor to give her speech.”

Lisa flashes a wide grin, tapping her glass lightly to get everyone’s attention. “Hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Lisa, Emily’s best friend. We’ve known each other since high school, and let me tell you, this girl has been my partner in crime for years.”

Her speech, like Jack’s is interwoven with seriousness and light moments.

“Andrew,” Lisa says, turning toward me with a mischievous grin. “You’ve got yourself one amazing woman here. And remember, if you ever need advice on how to keep up with her, I’ve got years of experience.”

The crowd laughs and so do I, the tension in my shoulders easing. My breathing is easier now and my mind fully present.

As Lisa wraps up her speech, everyone raises their glasses to us, and I follow suit, clinking mine softly against Emily’s.

The MC takes the microphone again, and his voice booms across the room. “Alright, everyone, let’s give a round of applause for our wonderful speeches! And now it’s time for the bride and groom to take their first dance as husband and wife.”

I suppress a groan. Dancing. Not exactly my strong suit, and I’ve been dreading this part since the beginning. But it’s a wedding, and I’m the groom. I don’t have much of a choice.

We walk together to the center of the dance floor as a love song fills the room. Emily’s hand is cool against my palm, and as I place my other hand gently on her waist, I catch the faintest hint of her lavender perfume. The same scent from when I first met her.

It stirs something in me, something I can’t quite push away.

We start to move, slowly at first, swaying to the rhythm. It’s surprisingly easy, the way we fall into step with each other.

As the song nears its end, I catch sight of movement near the back of the room. There’s some commotion—a shifting of bodies, the scraping of chairs.

My senses heighten, my body going on alert, but before I can fully register what’s happening, a voice rings out, loud and angry, cutting through the soft melody.

“You bastard!”

Everything freezes. The words are venomous, dripping with rage, and they claw their way through the air, making my pulse spike.

Hands grab my shoulders, spinning me around so fast that Emily’s hand slips from mine. The faint scent of alcohol hits my nose just before my instincts kick in. My body tenses, reflexes sharp, as I come face to face with Daniel.

His eyes are wild, bloodshot, and filled with fury. The scent of whiskey wafts off him in waves, overpowering my senses.

“What the hell?” I growl, yanking his hands off me, but the anger in him is like a live wire. His face is flushed, his jaw clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching.

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