Page 140 of Fake As Puck
She’s not crying yet, but I can see it coming. Her eyes are bright, and she’s got that soft expression people get when they’re witnessing something beautiful.
When she realizes I’m looking at her, she mouths “you okay?” and I nod.
More than okay.
Perfect, actually.
The vows are personal and raw and exactly the kind of thing that destroys people like Liv at weddings.
Jake talks about finding someone who makes him want to be better. Sarah talks about finding someone who makes her feel like home.
They’re both crying by the end, and so is half the crowd, and when they kiss, everyone erupts in cheers.
Including me.
Including Liv, who’s definitely crying now.
The reception is a blur of congratulations and wine and speeches that range from hilarious to deeply moving.
My parents corner Liv during cocktail hour, and I watch from across the terrace as my mom asks her a million questions and my dad tells her embarrassing stories about my childhood.
She laughs at all the right moments and looks genuinely interested in whatever they’re saying, and I fall a little bit more in love with her.
Which is becoming a problem, because I’m pretty sure I’m already completely gone.
“She fits,” my mom says when she finds me later.
“What?”
“Liv. She fits. With us, with you, with this whole family chaos.”
“Mom.”
“I’m just saying. I never thought about it as a whole before, but now I approve.”
I shake my head. “Mom, it’s complicated.”
She shakes her head at me, talking in a serious tone, “It’s not complicated. You love her, she loves you, you’re both too stubborn to admit it. Very simple.”
“How do you know she loves me?”
“Because I have eyes. And because she told me.”
I scan the crowd for Liv and say, “She told you?”
“Not in so many words. But yes, she told me.”
My mom has a way of misconstruing things, so I ask, “What exactly did she say?”
“That’s between me and her. But trust me on this one.”
Dinner is served family-style at long tables under string lights, and I end up sitting next to Liv with our families clustered around us.
It feels natural. Right. Like this is how every family dinner should be.
“Having fun?” I ask her as we’re finishing the main course.
“The best. Your cousin knows how to throw a wedding.”
