Page 130 of Merry Me
He was choosing me.
Not in some performative, poetic way.
Not for a night or a weekend or a week in a snowy town with string lights and sleigh rides.
But now. Here. In the middle of my sister’s wedding. In the aftermath of the worst day I’d had in years.
In front of the father who had never stayed.
He was still choosing me.
The officiant’s voice rose again, warm and certain. “Marriage begins in the quiet spaces. In the stolen glances. In the hands that reach out even when the world is loud and complicated and messy.”
My throat tightened.
I understood that line. I understood what it meant to be chosen in the mess.
Because Easton had found me there.
Not in the glossy versions.
Not in the Natalie I played at when things were shiny and effortless.
He’d seen every version of me…long before this week. All the years growing up, all the cracks I tried to patch with sarcasm and distance. He’d loved me anyway.
I’d broken up with him. Broken his heart. Walked away like it was the only option. And he still hadn’t let me go.
Not when I cried into his shirt. Not when I avoided his eyes for almost two whole years. Not when I stood in front of him yesterday, barely holding myself together.
He hadn’t turned away. He hadn’t stopped choosing me.
I glanced down, fiddling with Paige’s bouquet. Pine needles scraped at my wrist—unsubtle, unapologetic. A little bite of reality when I needed it most.
Easton shifted just slightly across from me.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from falling apart, and when I looked back at him, I saw it.
The change.
The smile was there now.
Barely. Soft and reverent. A smile that didn’t ask anything of me but gave everything in return.
It undid me.
But I wouldn’t cry.
Even though I could feel it in my throat…that dangerous, wobbly feeling like my tears might spill over. I wouldn’t cry through my sister’s wedding. No way. Not after the week we’d had. Not after what I’d promised myself this morning in the mirror.
No matter how utterly undone I was by the man standing across from me, looking at me like I was his beginning.
But I didn’t look away, either.
And slowly, my lips tipped up, and I smiled softly back athim. The two of us, sharing this silent moment, full of so many words.
Because he was still mine. And I was finally, finally letting myself believe I could be his, too.
The vows began. Paige’s voice rang out clear and steady, each word wrapped in love. Levi answered with his own, his voice breaking once before he laughed and caught it.
