Updated Dec 4, 2025 • ~11 min read
Savannah escaped to the bridesmaids’ suite the moment breakfast ended, desperate for space to think.
She’d woken up in Barry’s arms. Actually in his arms, her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. And for those few perfect seconds before reality crashed in, it had felt so right she’d wanted to cry.
Now, surrounded by bridesmaids getting their hair and makeup done for the wedding, she was trying very hard not to have a breakdown.
“You look stressed,” Emery observed, appearing at her elbow with mimosas. “Drink this.”
“It’s 10 AM.”
“It’s a wedding. Mimosas are legally required.” Emery handed her the glass. “Also, you need to tell me what happened because you have that look.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I woke up next to Barry and had feelings about it’ look.”
Savannah took a long drink. “I may have accidentally cuddled him in my sleep.”
“Accidentally?”
“I was asleep! It wasn’t intentional!”
“But you didn’t immediately move when you woke up, did you?”
Savannah’s silence was answer enough.
Emery grinned. “This weekend is going to be very interesting.”
The next few hours passed in a blur of beauty preparations. Hair curled and pinned, makeup applied with precision, the burgundy bridesmaid dresses finally making their debut.
Savannah barely recognized herself in the mirror. The dress hugged her curves perfectly, the deep color making her skin glow. She looked like someone who belonged at a romantic vineyard wedding.
She looked like someone who might be brave enough to take a risk.
“Wow,” Audrey said, appearing behind her. “You look amazing. Barry’s going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
“Barry’s my friend.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Audrey adjusted Savannah’s dress slightly. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. Look, I’ve known you for three years. I’ve watched you and Barry at every social event, every dinner party, every gathering. You two are so obviously in love with each other that it’s almost painful to watch.”
“We’re not—”
“Yes, you are. And the only people who don’t see it are you two.” Audrey squeezed her shoulder. “Whatever you’re scared of? It’s not scarier than spending the rest of your life wondering ‘what if.'”
Before Savannah could respond, Skylar burst into the room in her wedding dress, and chaos erupted.
“You look perfect!” everyone chorused.
Skylar was crying happy tears. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m getting married!”
The next hour was photos—bridesmaids with bride, individual shots, everyone crying and laughing and celebrating. Savannah tried to be present, but her mind kept drifting to Barry.
To this morning. To last night’s conversation in the dark. To ten years of almosts and whether she was brave enough to make it something more.
Finally, it was time.
The ceremony would start in fifteen minutes.
Savannah lined up with the other bridesmaids, bouquet in hand, heart racing. Through the doors, she could see the vineyard ceremony space—rows of chairs filled with guests, the altar decorated with burgundy and gold flowers, string quartet playing softly.
And Barry. Standing with the groomsmen in a charcoal suit that made her forget how to breathe.
“You okay?” Emery whispered beside her.
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Just walk down the aisle. Don’t trip. Try not to stare at Barry too obviously.”
“I don’t stare at Barry.”
“You absolutely stare at Barry. Everyone knows.”
The music changed. It was time.
One by one, bridesmaids walked down the aisle, paired with groomsmen. Savannah watched them go, her nerves mounting.
Then it was her turn.
The coordinator gestured. Savannah took a breath and stepped through the doors.
The vineyard was breathtaking—autumn afternoon sunlight filtering through the grapevines, mountains in the distance, everything golden and perfect.
But Savannah only saw Barry.
He was watching her. Not the scenery, not the other guests. Her. His expression was so open, so full of something she couldn’t quite name, that Savannah nearly stumbled.
She walked down the aisle slowly, trying to remember to smile at guests, trying to look anywhere except directly at Barry.
She failed. Their eyes locked halfway down, and Savannah felt everything shift.
This wasn’t friendship. This wasn’t casual. This was something bigger, something terrifying, something she’d been running from for a decade.
When she reached the altar, taking her place with the other bridesmaids, Barry was still watching her. Zane elbowed him, whispering something. Barry didn’t look away.
The bridal march began. Everyone stood. Skylar appeared with her father, glowing and gorgeous.
But Savannah could barely focus on the bride. She was too aware of Barry’s presence fifteen feet away. Too conscious of the weight of his gaze. Too overwhelmed by the certainty that something fundamental had changed.
The ceremony began. The officiant, Sirius, spoke about love and partnership and finding your person.
“Marriage is a choice,” Sirius said. “Not just once, but every day. Choosing to be vulnerable. Choosing to trust. Choosing to love someone even when it’s scary.”
Savannah’s eyes drifted back to Barry. He was already looking at her.
Choosing to love someone even when it’s scary.
Roman’s vows made everyone cry. Skylar’s made everyone cry harder. They exchanged rings, kissed, and everyone cheered.
Savannah clapped and smiled and tried to ignore the ache in her chest.
After the ceremony, they were ushered away for wedding party photos. The photographer, Thea, directed them with cheerful efficiency.
“Bridesmaids with bride! Groomsmen with groom! Now everyone together!”
For the group shots, Barry ended up standing behind Savannah, his hand settling naturally on her waist. She felt the touch like electricity.
“You two,” Thea called out. “Yes, you—Barry and Savannah. Step forward. Give me that energy.”
“What energy?” Savannah asked.
“The ‘we’re clearly in love but pretending we’re not’ energy. It’s very photogenic.”
Everyone laughed. Savannah wanted to die.
Thea positioned them facing each other, Barry’s hands on Savannah’s waist, her hands on his chest.
“Perfect. Look at each other. Now smile like you know a secret.”
They did know a secret. The same secret they’d been keeping for ten years.
Barry’s thumb stroked her hip once—so subtle Savannah might have imagined it. But the shiver that ran through her was very real.
“Beautiful!” Thea snapped photos. “Okay, now everyone back to the original formation.”
But as they stepped apart, Barry’s hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary, and Savannah’s breath caught.
Photos finally finished, the wedding party headed to the reception venue—a gorgeous terrace overlooking the vineyard, everything decorated in burgundy and gold, fairy lights strung overhead even though it was still daylight.
Savannah found her name card at the head table, right between Emery and—of course—Barry.
“Skylar’s matchmaking is not subtle,” Emery observed.
“She means well.”
“She means to force you two together until you admit your feelings.”
Cocktail hour gave way to dinner. Savannah was hyperaware of Barry beside her—the warmth of his presence, the occasional brush of his arm, the sound of his laugh.
During speeches, Thaddeus stood up with his glass raised.
“I’ve known Skylar since she was dating my college roommate,” he began. “And I’ve watched her and Roman build something real. Something that makes the rest of us look at our own relationships and wonder if we’re settling.”
His eyes found Savannah’s. “Love isn’t always convenient. It doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes your person is right in front of you for years before you’re brave enough to see them. Don’t wait too long. Life’s too short for almosts.”
Was everyone in on this? Was this whole wedding a conspiracy to make Savannah confront her feelings?
After dinner, the dance floor opened. Savannah watched couples sway together, the string lights overhead making everything look like a fairytale.
“Want to dance?” Barry’s voice at her ear made her jump.
“I—sure. Yes.”
He led her to the dance floor, one hand finding hers, the other settling on her lower back. They swayed to some romantic ballad, close enough that Savannah could smell his cologne.
“You look beautiful,” Barry said quietly. “I meant to tell you earlier, but we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
“You look good too. The suit is—it’s good.”
Smooth. Very smooth.
“This weekend has been—” Barry paused, searching for words. “Different.”
“Yeah.”
“Sav, I need to tell you something.”
Savannah’s heart stopped. “Okay.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About what Audrey said during her speech. About finding your person. About not waiting too long.”
This was it. This was the moment. After ten years, Barry was finally—
“Mind if I cut in?” Thaddeus appeared, grinning apologetically. “Sister dance. It’s tradition.”
Barry stepped back immediately, disappointment clear on his face. “Of course.”
Savannah wanted to scream. Wanted to tell Thaddeus to leave. Wanted to grab Barry and finish the conversation.
But she let her brother take her hand, let Barry disappear into the crowd, let another moment slip away.
“You look like you want to murder me,” Thaddeus observed.
“I’m considering it.”
“Look, I know I interrupted something. But trust me—if Barry’s going to confess his feelings, he needs to do it right. Not in the middle of a dance floor surrounded by people.”
“How do you know he was going to—”
“Sav. Come on. Everyone knows. Everyone has known for years. The only people pretending otherwise are you two.”
The song ended. Thaddeus kissed her forehead and disappeared. Savannah searched the crowd for Barry, finally spotting him near the bar talking to Zane.
Before she could head over, Emery grabbed her arm. “Bouquet toss in five minutes! Skylar’s looking for all the single ladies.”
Savannah let herself be dragged to the designated area, joining a group of single women while Skylar stood on the small stage, bouquet in hand, looking mischievous.
“You know what to do, ladies! May the best woman win!”
Skylar turned her back, counted to three, and threw.
The bouquet sailed through the air in a perfect arc—directly toward Savannah.
She caught it on instinct, then immediately regretted it as everyone cheered and whistled.
“And now the garter toss!” the DJ announced.
Roman made a show of removing the garter from Skylar’s leg, much to everyone’s amusement. The single men gathered.
“Make me proud!” Roman called out, then threw.
Barry caught it.
Of course Barry caught it.
The DJ’s voice boomed: “Tradition dictates that the garter and bouquet winners dance together! Barry and Savannah, come on up!”
This was a setup. This whole thing was a setup.
But there was no way out. Everyone was watching, cheering, clearly in on whatever matchmaking scheme Skylar had orchestrated.
Barry walked toward her, garter in hand, expression unreadable.
“Shall we?” he offered his hand.
Savannah took it, let him lead her back to the dance floor as a slow song started.
This time when they danced, it felt different. More charged. Everyone was watching them, calling out encouragements.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” someone started chanting.
Others picked it up. Soon half the reception was chanting for them to kiss.
“This is mortifying,” Savannah muttered.
“Completely mortifying,” Barry agreed.
But he was smiling. And his hand on her waist felt possessive in a way that made her dizzy.
“We should probably give them something,” he said. “Or they’ll never stop.”
“What are you—”
Barry leaned down and kissed her forehead—sweet, chaste, safe.
The crowd cheered anyway.
But as he pulled back, his eyes met hers, and Savannah saw something there. A question. A possibility. An invitation to be brave.
The song ended. They separated. The night continued.
But something had shifted. Some invisible line had been crossed, even if neither of them was ready to acknowledge it.
Late in the evening, as the reception wound down, Savannah stood on the terrace looking out at the vineyard, trying to process everything.
“There you are.” Barry’s voice made her turn. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Needed some air.”
He joined her at the railing. For a moment, they just stood in comfortable silence.
“Tonight was—” Barry started.
“Intense,” Savannah finished.
“Yeah. Everyone’s got opinions about us.”
“They always have.”
More silence. The weight of everything unsaid hung between them.
“Sav, earlier, when I was trying to tell you something—”
“I know. Thaddeus has terrible timing.”
“I was going to say—” Barry took a breath. “I was going to say that these past two days have made me realize I’m tired of pretending.”
Savannah’s heart raced. “Pretending what?”
“That we’re just friends. That I don’t—”
“Hey guys!” Emery appeared, drunk and happy. “Xavier just showed up! He was invited months ago before your breakup. Thought you should know.”
And just like that, the moment shattered again.
Barry’s jaw tightened. “Your ex is here?”
“I didn’t know he was coming. Skylar said—I thought he declined.”
“I should go—”
“Barry, wait—”
But he was already walking away, and Xavier was walking toward her, and everything was falling apart.
This weekend was supposed to clarify things.
Instead, it was making everything infinitely more complicated.
And Savannah had no idea how to fix it.
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