Updated Mar 13, 2026 • ~9 min read
Noah doesn’t speak to us for three days.
Three days of radio silence. No texts. No calls. Nothing.
I try not to panic. He said he needed time. We’re giving him time.
But it’s killing me.
On Tuesday, I get a text from Margot: “He’s processing. Give him space. He’ll come around.”
It’s something. Not much. But something.
I throw myself into work. The society wedding is in one week and the bride has made approximately seven hundred last-minute changes. I’m drowning in seating charts and floral arrangements and angry vendor emails.
It’s the perfect distraction.
I’m at the venue on Wednesday afternoon, arguing with the caterer about gluten-free options, when someone calls my name.
“Tessa?”
I turn.
And my stomach drops.
Raymond.
Raymond Martinez. My ex-boyfriend. The one I dated for eight months last year before he decided long-distance wasn’t working and broke up with me via text.
That Raymond.
“Oh my God,” he says, grinning. “It IS you. I thought I recognized you from across the room.”
“Raymond. Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Working. I’m the event coordinator for this venue.”
“No way! That’s amazing! I’m here for—” He gestures vaguely. “Corporate thing. Holiday party planning.”
“Oh. Cool.”
We stand there awkwardly.
He looks good. I hate that he looks good. Dark hair slightly longer than I remember. Still has that charming smile that made me fall for him in the first place.
“So,” he says. “How have you been?”
“Busy. You?”
“Good. Really good. I actually just moved back to the city.”
Of course he did.
“That’s… great.”
“I’ve been meaning to reach out. See if you wanted to grab coffee. Catch up.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? We ended things amicably.”
“You dumped me over text, Raymond.”
“Okay, maybe not THAT amicably. But we were good together, Tessa. And I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”
No. Absolutely not. I do not have time for this.
“I’m married,” I blurt out.
His face falls. “What?”
“I got married. Three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks?” He laughs. “Come on. That’s a joke, right?”
“It’s not a joke.”
“Who gets married after three weeks?”
“I do, apparently.”
“To who?”
Before I can answer, I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“To me.”
I turn.
Holden is standing there, looking unfairly handsome in a suit, holding two coffee cups.
“I brought your favorite,” he says, handing me one. Then he looks at Raymond. “Hi. Holden Reid.”
“Raymond Martinez.” They shake hands. Raymond’s grip is probably too firm. Holden doesn’t flinch. “Tessa and I used to date.”
“I know. She’s mentioned you.”
That’s a lie. I’ve never mentioned Raymond to Holden. But I’m not about to correct him.
“So you two are married?” Raymond asks, looking between us.
“Three weeks,” Holden confirms. “Vegas. Very spontaneous.”
“Wow. Congratulations.”
There’s an edge to Raymond’s voice. Jealousy, maybe. Or disbelief.
Holden’s arm slides around my waist. Possessive. Claiming.
“Thanks. We’re very happy.”
“I’m sure you are.” Raymond turns back to me. “Well, Tessa, it was good seeing you. Enjoy your… marriage.”
He walks away.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“You okay?” Holden asks quietly.
“Yeah. That was just—”
“Weird?”
“So weird.”
“What was he doing here?”
“Planning some corporate event, apparently. What are YOU doing here?”
“I had a meeting nearby. Thought I’d bring you coffee.” He pauses. “But also I may have installed Find My Friends on your phone so I could track you down and play the supportive husband.”
“You did WHAT?”
“In my defense, I was planning to tell you. And also it came in handy just now.”
He’s grinning. Completely unrepentant.
I should be mad. I should absolutely be mad.
But I’m smiling instead.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“Unfortunately.”
He kisses my temple. “Come on. Show me around this venue. I want to see where the magic happens.”
I give him the tour. Show him the ballroom where the ceremony will be. The reception space. The bridal suite where the bride will have her inevitable pre-wedding meltdown.
“This is incredible,” Holden says. “You coordinated all of this?”
“With a team. But yeah, mostly me.”
“You’re amazing.”
“I’m stressed.”
“You’re still amazing.”
We end up in the garden area—a beautiful outdoor space with string lights and carefully manicured hedges.
“This would be a great place for a wedding,” Holden muses.
“That’s literally what it’s designed for.”
“No, I mean OUR wedding.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Our wedding. The real one. Not the Vegas Elvis disaster.”
“Holden, we’re already married.”
“Technically. But you deserve a real wedding. With your family. And flowers. And a dress you actually remember wearing.”
“You want to have a wedding?”
“I want to marry you properly. Yeah.”
My chest tightens. “That’s… really sweet. But also we’re dealing with enough right now. Noah barely speaks to us. Your mom doesn’t even know yet. My whole family thinks I’m single.”
“I know. I’m not saying we do it tomorrow. I’m just saying… eventually. When things calm down. I want to do it right.”
“What’s ‘right’?”
He steps closer. Takes my hands.
“Right is you in a dress you love, walking down an aisle toward me. Right is our families there, celebrating with us. Right is vows we both remember saying. Right is a first dance and cake cutting and all the things you plan for other people. I want to give you that.”
I’m definitely going to cry.
“You really want to marry me again?”
“I really want to marry you as many times as you’ll let me.”
I kiss him. Right there in the garden, surrounded by string lights and the promise of someone else’s future.
“Okay,” I whisper against his lips.
“Okay?”
“Okay. Let’s get married. Again. Eventually.”
He grins and spins me around. “I’m marrying my wife!”
“You’re already married to your wife!”
“I’m remarrying my wife!”
I’m laughing and crying and completely overwhelmed.
This man. This ridiculous, wonderful, annoying man.
I love him so much it hurts.
My phone buzzes. I check it, expecting work.
It’s Noah: “Can we talk?”
My heart skips.
“It’s Noah,” I tell Holden.
“What does he say?”
“He wants to talk.”
Holden’s face does something complicated. Hope mixed with fear.
“When?”
I type back: “When?”
Noah: “Now? Coffee at our usual place?”
Me: “I’ll be there in 20.”
I look at Holden. “I should go alone.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s my brother. I need to do this.”
“Okay. But call me after?”
“Of course.”
He kisses me goodbye. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
Noah is already at the coffee shop when I arrive. He’s sitting in our usual corner booth, two cups in front of him. He got my order. Black coffee with one sugar.
He remembers.
“Hey,” I say, sliding into the booth.
“Hey.”
We sit in awkward silence.
“So,” Noah says finally. “You’re really married to Holden.”
“I really am.”
“And you love him.”
“I do.”
“And he loves you.”
“He does.”
More silence.
“I’m still mad at you,” Noah says. “Both of you. For lying. For hiding it.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“But I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. And Margot helped me see some things.”
“Like what?”
“Like… maybe I’ve been overprotective. Maybe I’ve been treating you like you’re still fourteen and need me to fight your battles. But you’re not fourteen. You’re twenty-five. And you can make your own decisions. Even if those decisions involve marrying my idiot best friend.”
I smile despite myself. “He’s not an idiot.”
“He kind of is. But he’s also—” Noah stops. Takes a breath. “He’s a good guy. I know that. And if I’m being honest, I’ve known for years that he had feelings for you.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. The way he looked at you. The way he asked about you. How he’d get all weird whenever I mentioned you dating someone. It was obvious. I just—I didn’t want to see it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my little sister. And he’s my best friend. And keeping you separate was easier than dealing with what it would mean if you got together.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re married. So I don’t really have a choice but to deal with it.”
He says it with a slight smile.
“Are you okay with it?” I ask. “Really?”
“I’m getting there. It’s going to take time. And you two are going to have to work to earn back my trust. But yeah. I think I can be okay with it. Eventually.”
Relief washes over me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re still in trouble.”
“I know.”
“And I reserve the right to punch Holden again if he hurts you.”
“Fair.”
We drink our coffee. The silence is more comfortable now.
“So,” Noah says. “Tell me about it. The real story. From the beginning.”
So I do.
I tell him everything I didn’t tell him before. About waking up married and panicking. About the tax problem and moving in together. About the pasta dinner and the jealousy and slowly falling in love.
I tell him about Thanksgiving and almost getting caught. About the family photo and Margot’s comment. About today in the garden when Holden said he wants to marry me again, properly.
By the time I’m done, Noah is shaking his head.
“You two are insane.”
“I know.”
“But also… kind of perfect for each other.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah. Unfortunately.” He grins. “You’re both stubborn and competitive and terrible at admitting when you’re wrong. You’ll probably fight about everything. But you’ll also push each other to be better. And that’s—that’s good.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about my relationships.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
We finish our coffee. Stand to leave.
At the door, Noah pulls me into a hug.
“I love you, Tessa. Even when you’re making terrible decisions.”
“Marrying Holden isn’t a terrible decision.”
“Jury’s still out on that. But I’m willing to be convinced.”
I hug him back. “Thank you. For trying.”
“Yeah, well. You’re my sister. I don’t really have a choice.”
We part ways. He heads home to Margot. I head back to the venue to finish work.
But before I start, I text Holden: “He came around. We’re okay.”
Holden: “Really?”
Me: “Really. He’s still mad, but he’s getting there.”
Holden: “Thank God. I was prepared to grovel.”
Me: “You still might have to.”
Holden: “Worth it.”
Me: “See you at home?”
Holden: “See you at home, wife.”
I smile at my phone.
Everything is going to be okay.
Eventually.
Together.
END OF CHAPTER 13
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