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Shopping for wedding dresses is as fun as it is stressful, but Lucy can honestly say she’s having the time of her life. Angela, Tamara and Nyla are outside, laughing, and John’s been chiming in every so often. He does all the right things; cheers and makes suggestions and tries to be constructive and supportive. Tamara’s more honest; she boos and calls dresses ugly outright, demands Lucy check if she can twerk in her dress, pick a larger slit, give the priest a heart attack! Be fun! Nyla and Angela offer advice on what she should do; nothing too tight, give yourself room for a shit ton of food, don’t size down, be comfortable, be sexy, shit Lucy that’s too much lace. It’s all Lucy could ask; laughter, a gentle buzz off mimosas and rosé, being cheered on by her friends. Yet.
Yet.
She keeps looking for him. She looks at the entrance, the huge windows giving her an unobstructed view of the outside, and waits to see him. To find him amongst the crowds, to see him smile and be honest about her dress choices. God, Lucy, he’d laugh. Go simpler. You don’t need to go too elaborate. Stick to what you like. And Lucy can imagine what he’d say, the way he’d laugh, the dimples on his cheeks and the crinkle of his eyes. Lucy can imagine all she wants; he was her brother after all, she knows him like the back of her hand. But no amount of imaging can replace the real thing. She can practically see him in her mind’s eye but it’s not a replacement for the real thing. Her brother is gone—
Bridal fitting rooms aren’t soundproof. It’s one sheet and a ton of mirrors, so Lucy has to slap a hand over her mouth and grit her teeth. She doesn’t want to ruin it for everyone else, to bring up old wounds all over again. It’s supposed to be a happy fucking day. She’s shopping for her wedding dress. She’s going to get married to the love of her life. She can’t get too caught up in the past when she has this. She has people she loves, that love her back, and everyone is okay. That’s what matters.
The consultant walks into the room, smiling in that almost uncomfortable way. “Are you going to wear that necklace at your wedding?”
Lucy startles, hands instinctively rising to her neck. It’s her St Michael’s pendant, from Jackson. She hasn’t taken off since he—
“It just might— clash,” The consultant says. “Silver won’t stand out as much when paired with white. And you want your jewelry to pop, right?”
The thought of Jackson, of leaving behind the one thing of his she can carry with her, makes her see red. Her teeth grit, cheeks flush red, she’s so fucking angry.
The consultant seems to notice, and immediately softens. “I apologize. It’s your wedding, please do what makes you happy.”
Tamara knocks on the wall next to the dressing room, and peeks her head in. “Hey, Luce? Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Lucy says, strained. “I like this dress.”
Tamara walks up behind her, standing right beside Lucy. She watches them in the mirror, taking Tamara’s hand into her own. They’ve known each other for a long time. Tamara is her sister, too.
”Me too,” Tamara says. “Think it’s my favorite so far.”
“Yeah.” Lucy grips her hand, the thought terrifying her. She’s already lost one sibling, she can’t— she won’t lose another. “It’s my favorite too.”
________
When the day finally arrives, Lucy feels like she’s choking.
Everyone is outside, running around to make everything perfect for her, and all she can do is stare at the mirror. She wants to be around people, she needs it like she needs air.
She has everything; flowers, a veil, impeccable makeup, comfortable heels, tiny croissants and peach tea. She’s got her something borrowed, blue, old and new; earrings Angela wore at her wedding, John’s blue stone ring, Jackson’s St Michael’s pendant, Tim’s gift of a woven bracelet with both of their birthstones.
This is Lucy’s wedding day. She’s been looking forward to it for months. She had the bachelorette party, the dress shopping, the practice dinner, the decoration planning, the venue scouting, the cake and food tasting, the open bar, everything. She debated pasta or roasted duck or chicken and lobster, four different types of cake and peach sweet buns. She’s supposed to be over the moon. Fucking elated to be marrying the love of her life. She’s got everyone who loves her in a single room except—
Except that’s not true, is it? It’s never going to be true.
Her man of honor, best friend, her brother is missing. He’ll always be missing. She’ll never get to tell him about Tim. About how he’s it for her. About their possible children, the career she sees ahead of her, the terror of loving undercover work and craving a family unlike the one she grew up in. Of finding happiness in the most mundane of things. He was her best friend in the world, her brother in every way that mattered, and she was just expected to go on without him. To live without him. To move on.
Tamara knocks on the door, enters second afterwards whilst staring down at her IPad. “Just sent out a second round of champagne, did some seating arrangements since Tim’s aunt Helen is a bitch—“ She checks something off her list with an Apple Pencil. “Finally got those awful white people songs banned from the DJ— who unironically listens to Sweet Home Alabama? And for the first dan—“ She stops as soon as the first sob rings out. She jogs towards Lucy, putting down her iPad, uncaring of where it landed. “Luce! What’s wrong?”
Lucy can’t speak through her tears, hands shaking so hard she can’t even wrap her fingers around Tamara’s own. A napkin is pressed to her eyes, drying her tears, and a wail escapes her. The hand is replaced by a larger, sturdier one. Lucy would know it anywhere.
She easily slot herself underneath his chin, napkin keeping her from irreparably staining his suit. The chatter and noise dies down until it’s just the two of them. Just Lucy and her future husband, the only two people in the world.
Lucy comes back to herself in waves. Her cheeks are wet. Her knees hurt from when she collapsed. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to go back out there, to walk down the aisle and be happy. She’s ruined the best day of Tim’s life.
“Tim—“ She tries, only to choke on laughter. He’s got his own tie wrapped around his eyes, in a frankly odd mockery of a kinky gesture. “What the hell?” She says instead. “Why is your tie around your eyes?”
“Bad luck to see the dress,” Tim says, like it’s obvious. “Tamara called it bad juju so she did this.” He motions to his eyes with one hand. “Pretty sure she just wanted to make sure you smiled.”
Lucy huffs out a laugh. Of course her sister knows her better than anyone. “You can take it off.” She reaches for the knot at the back of his head. “I don’t mind.” When the tie falls away, Tim’s eyes are still closed. Lucy giggles.
Tim cracks a hesitant smile. “You sure?”
“Yes,” Lucy says, fond. “It’s only bad juju if you let it be.”
When she giggles, Tim cracks one eye open with a fond grin. “There’s that smile.” He presses a kiss to the top of her hair, then eyes her up and down. Lingers of the hair pieces framing her face, the earrings, her eyes, her lips, the necklace, down to her dress and the bracelets on her arms. “You look incredible,” He whispers, in awe. “How’d I get so lucky?”
“I think we both got lucky,” Lucy whispers, resting her forehead against his. “I’m sorry.” He asks what for, she instantly replies, “For… this. Ruining everything by crying.”
“Hey, no—“
“We can’t get pictures of the first time seeing the dress, or the whole walk down the aisle thing, and—“
“Lucy,” He says, hands gently cradling her face. He pulls her gaze up to meet his, where she finds nothing but love. No judgment in any capacity. “You haven’t ruined anything, I swear. Feel what you need to, and I’ll hold your hand if you want me to.”
Lucy closes her eyes, nodding. She tilts her head to kiss Tim’s palm, and snuggles into it. “I just miss him,” She says with a bone-tired sigh. “He’s just— I’ve been feeling this way ever since we started this— the whole wedding thing. I promised I’d make him my man of honor, and I’d be the best lady at his wedding, and—“ She swallows uncomfortably, knot forming in her throat. “I just— he should be here. I want him here. I don’t know how to do this without him, he— he was my brother.”
Tim rubs his thumb against the back of her hand, gentle. “I know,” He whispers. “I wish— I wish I could fix this, Luce.”
“Yeah,” She replies. “Me too.”
“Do you still want go out there, or stay here for a bit longer?”
“A little longer,” Lucy replies, exhausted. She wants to go, wants to get married, but she can’t imagine going through with the ceremony when something’s always going to be missing. “I really want to get married. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” Tim says. “I never doubted that.”
“I just— feel bad, I guess,” Lucy says. “Delaying everything. Leaving people waiting.”
“It’s our wedding day,” Tim says with a snort and a shrug. “We decide when and where everything’s happening.”
Lucy snorts. “Well, we are paying for all their booze.”
“That’s the spirit,” Tim grins. “Hey, Tamara and I planned something, just in case. If you don’t like it, let us know, yeah?”
Lucy glances up at him, curious. “Yeah, what— what did you plan?”
Tamara hesitantly opens the door, peeking her head in with a smile. “Okay if I come in?”
Lucy smiles, stretching her hand for Tamara to take. Her sister is immediately by her side, holding her hand tightly. She holds her other behind her, hiding something. “What you got there?” Lucy asks.
Tamara and Tim exchange a glance, and Tamara brandishes what she hid. It’s a picture frame, and in it—
“Oh,” Lucy breathes out, grabbing it with gentle hands. It’s Jackson, in a suit, smiling without a care in the world. Tears blur her vision. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Tamara whispers, tears in her own eyes. “We can walk you down the aisle, this way. We talked about it once. How we’d fight over who got to be your maid, or man, of honor,” Tamara giggles. “I’d love to share this with him, now.”
Lucy grins, tears in her eyes, the three most important people in her life surrounding her. She loves them more than anything. “Thank you,” She repeats. Her brother might be gone, but not entirely. She’ll carry him with her, and so will her family. Her husband and her sister.