Updated Dec 4, 2025 • ~12 min read
Barry watched Xavier approach Savannah with all the charm of a man who didn’t realize he’d already lost.
Not that Barry had won anything. But Xavier had definitely lost.
“Sav!” Xavier called out, arms spread wide like they were old friends instead of exes who’d broken up two months ago. “You look amazing!”
Barry’s jaw clenched so hard he thought his teeth might crack.
“Xavier.” Savannah’s voice was carefully neutral. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Skylar invited me months ago. Couldn’t miss it.” Xavier’s eyes drifted to Barry, something calculating in his expression. “Dale. Good to see you.”
“Hayes.”
The tension was thick enough to cut. Emery, bless her, appeared at Savannah’s elbow with fresh drinks.
“Savannah, we need you for bridesmaid photos. Right now. Emergency.”
“There’s no emergency—” Savannah started.
“Major emergency. Skylar’s having a meltdown. Let’s go.” Emery grabbed Savannah’s arm and physically pulled her away, shooting Barry an apologetic look over her shoulder.
Leaving Barry alone with Xavier.
Perfect.
“So,” Xavier said, sipping his wine. “You two finally together, or still doing that painful ‘just friends’ dance?”
“What Savannah and I are is none of your business.”
“I dated her for eight months. I think I’ve earned some curiosity.”
Eight months of making her miserable, Barry thought. Eight months of canceling plans and showing up late and never quite being present even when he was there.
Barry had watched every second of it. Had listened to Savannah make excuses for Xavier’s behavior. Had held his tongue when what he really wanted to do was tell her she deserved so much better.
“You broke up,” Barry said flatly. “That means you don’t get updates on her life.”
Xavier laughed. “You’re in love with her. God, you’re so obvious about it.”
Barry said nothing. Couldn’t trust himself to speak.
“I knew the whole time we were dating,” Xavier continued. “Saw it every time we hung out with your friend group. The way you looked at her. The way you found excuses to touch her. How you knew everything about her—her coffee order, her favorite songs, the exact brand of ice cream she eats when she’s sad.”
“If you knew, why did you date her?”
“Because she picked me.” Xavier shrugged. “And I figured if she wanted you, she would have said something by now. Ten years of friendship and neither of you has made a move? That’s not true love. That’s cowardice.”
The words hit harder because they were true.
“Why did you really come tonight?” Barry asked.
Xavier’s expression shifted. “Because I think I made a mistake. Breaking up with her. I’ve had two months to think about it, and—”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t get to do this.” Barry stepped closer, keeping his voice low. “You don’t get to date her for eight months, treat her like an afterthought, break her heart, and then decide two months later that you made a mistake.”
“That’s not your decision.”
“You’re right. It’s Savannah’s decision. But if you think I’m going to stand here and let you manipulate her into giving you another chance, you’re delusional.”
Xavier’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you tell her how you feel, Dale? If you’re so confident she’d pick you over me.”
“Because unlike you, I actually care about what she needs. And what she needs right now isn’t me complicating her life.”
“Or maybe,” Xavier said softly, “you’re just scared she’ll say no.”
Before Barry could respond, Savannah reappeared, looking frazzled.
“There was no emergency. Emery made that up.” She glanced between them. “Everything okay here?”
“Fine,” Barry said.
“Great,” Xavier said simultaneously. “Actually, Sav, can we talk? Privately?”
Savannah’s expression was carefully blank. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Five minutes. Please. I came all this way.”
Barry wanted to intervene. Wanted to tell Xavier to leave. But it wasn’t his place. Savannah was an adult who could make her own decisions.
Even if those decisions killed him.
“Okay,” Savannah said quietly. “Five minutes.”
She followed Xavier toward the edge of the terrace. Barry watched them go, his chest tight with something that felt suspiciously like heartbreak.
Zane appeared at his side. “You’re going to let her go talk to him?”
“What am I supposed to do? She’s not mine.”
“She could be. If you’d just tell her how you feel.”
“Everyone keeps saying that like it’s simple.”
“It is simple. You’re making it complicated.”
Barry tore his eyes away from Savannah and Xavier’s conversation. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way? What if I tell her and ruin everything?”
“And what if you don’t tell her and she gets back together with that asshole because she thinks you don’t care?”
That thought was worse than rejection.
Barry looked back at the terrace edge. Xavier was standing too close to Savannah. She had her arms crossed—defensive body language—but she wasn’t walking away.
“I can’t watch this,” Barry muttered.
He headed back inside, finding refuge at the bar. Ordered whiskey, neat. Tried not to imagine what Xavier was saying to her.
I made a mistake. I want another chance. I’ll do better this time.
The worst part was, Savannah was kind enough that she might actually consider it. Might give Xavier another chance because she always saw the best in people.
“You look miserable.” Audrey, the maid of honor, slid onto the barstool next to him. “Let me guess—Xavier?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Barry, everyone at this wedding knows you’re in love with Savannah except apparently Savannah.” Audrey ordered her own drink. “Why haven’t you told her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not. You love her. She loves you. Tell her.”
Barry’s head snapped up. “She doesn’t—”
“Oh, honey. Yes, she does. I’ve known Savannah for three years. I’ve watched her date Xavier and two guys before him. You want to know what they all had in common?”
“What?”
“None of them were you. She dates men who are safe. Who won’t make her feel too much. Because she’s terrified of how much she already feels for you.”
Barry’s heart was racing. “How do you know that?”
“Because she told me. Not in those exact words, but—” Audrey paused. “Last month, after she ended things with Xavier, we got drunk. I asked her why she kept dating men she didn’t really love. She said, ‘Because I’m already in love with someone I can’t have.'”
“She said that?”
“She said that. And then she deflected when I asked who, but Barry—it’s you. It’s always been you.”
Barry drained his whiskey. “Then why hasn’t she said anything?”
“Same reason you haven’t. She’s scared. Of losing you. Of ruining the friendship. Of taking a risk and having it blow up in her face.”
Through the windows, Barry could see Savannah and Xavier still talking. His hands were on her arms now. She was looking up at him with an expression Barry couldn’t read.
“What if I’m too late?” Barry asked quietly. “What if she gives him another chance?”
“Then you’ll have your answer. But at least you’ll know.” Audrey squeezed his shoulder. “Stop being a coward, Dale. Ten years is long enough.”
She left him at the bar with his empty glass and racing thoughts.
Audrey was right. Zane was right. Thaddeus was right. Everyone was right.
He’d been a coward for ten years. Had watched Savannah date other men. Had held his tongue when what he wanted to do was tell her she was his whole world.
No more.
Whether she gave Xavier another chance or not, Barry was done waiting.
Before this weekend ended, he was telling her. Everything. Ten years of feelings and almosts and loving her from a distance.
And if she didn’t feel the same way—if she chose Xavier or chose to stay friends—at least Barry would finally know.
At least he could start trying to move on instead of living in this purgatory of what-ifs.
He ordered another whiskey. Watched through the windows as Xavier finally stepped back from Savannah. She said something, gestured toward the reception. Xavier nodded.
They walked back inside together.
Barry’s stomach dropped.
Savannah spotted him at the bar immediately. Her expression was unreadable.
“Can we talk?” she asked, glancing at Xavier. “Privately?”
Xavier gave Barry a look that might have been triumphant. Or pitying. Barry couldn’t tell.
“Sure,” Barry managed.
They found a quiet corner near the vineyard’s wine cellar. Savannah leaned against the wall, looking exhausted.
“What did he want?” Barry asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“He wants to get back together. Says he made a mistake. Says he’s realized what he lost.”
Barry’s chest constricted. “What did you say?”
“I said no.”
Relief flooded through him so intensely he felt dizzy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Savannah rubbed her face. “Barry, I didn’t break up with Xavier because of anything he did wrong. I mean, yes, he wasn’t great at showing up or being present, but—that wasn’t why I ended it.”
“Why did you?”
She looked at him then. Really looked at him. Her eyes were full of something that made Barry’s breath catch.
“Because I was using him,” she said quietly. “Using him to avoid dealing with feelings I’ve had for someone else. Someone I’ve been in love with for a really long time.”
Barry’s heart stopped. “Sav—”
“I’m not finished.” She took a shaky breath. “I’m scared, Barry. I’m terrified. Because this person—they’re my best friend. The most important person in my life. And if I tell them how I feel and they don’t feel the same way, I lose them. And I can’t—I can’t lose them.”
Barry stepped closer. “What if they do feel the same way?”
“Then everything changes. And I don’t know if I’m brave enough for that.”
“Maybe you don’t have to be brave alone.”
They were inches apart now. Close enough that Barry could see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. Close enough to count her freckles. Close enough to kiss her if he just leaned forward.
“Barry,” Savannah whispered. “What are we doing?”
“I don’t know. But I’m tired of pretending.”
“Pretending what?”
“That you’re not the first person I think about when I wake up. That I don’t know your coffee order because I’ve spent ten years watching you. That I didn’t end things with Nola because I was in love with you the entire time.”
Savannah’s eyes widened. “You were talking about me. In the car. When you said you ended things because you were in love with someone else—”
“It’s always been you, Sav. From the day you walked into that statistics study group and announced you were drowning. From every late-night conversation and road trip and moment we’ve shared. It’s always been you.”
Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Ten years.”
“Ten years.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was scared. Because I didn’t want to lose you. Because the timing was never right.” Barry cupped her face gently. “But I’m done waiting for the perfect moment. I’m done watching you date other people and pretending it doesn’t kill me. I’m done with almost.”
“Barry—”
“You don’t have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. Before Xavier convinces you to give him another chance. Before another moment passes and I regret not telling you.” He smiled sadly. “I love you, Savannah Mitchell. I have for ten years. I will for the rest of my life, whether you feel the same way or not.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “You love me.”
“I love you.”
“For ten years.”
“Give or take a few days.”
She laughed—wet and shaky and beautiful. “You’re an idiot.”
“Probably.”
“I’ve been in love with you since you explained standard deviation to me with terrible jokes and patient diagrams. Since you bought me coffee and learned my order. Since every boyfriend I’ve ever had paled in comparison to you.”
Barry’s breath caught. “Savannah—”
“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m so scared of this. Of us. Of losing you.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can. Because even if this doesn’t work—even if we try and fail—I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Sav. Friends or more or whatever we become. You’re stuck with me.”
She reached up, touching his face like she was memorizing it. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me. Before I lose my nerve. Before someone interrupts. Before another ten years pass.” Her smile was tremulous. “Kiss me, Barry Dale.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Barry kissed her like he’d been waiting ten years to do it. Because he had.
She tasted like champagne and hope and everything he’d dreamed about for a decade. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Savannah was crying and smiling and looking at him like he’d hung the moon.
“Ten years,” she whispered against his lips.
“Worth the wait,” Barry murmured back.
They stood there, foreheads pressed together, holding each other like they were afraid to let go.
Ten years of almosts.
And finally—finally—something real.
Behind them, someone cleared their throat.
They sprang apart to find Skylar standing there with the biggest grin Barry had ever seen.
“About damn time,” she said. “Now get back to the reception. I have a bouquet toss to rig.”
“You already did the bouquet toss,” Savannah said, laughing.
“I’ll do another one. I’m the bride. I can do whatever I want.” Skylar pointed at them. “And you two better be ready for a slow dance later. A real one. With feelings.”
She disappeared back toward the terrace, leaving Barry and Savannah alone again.
“This is really happening,” Savannah said, wonder in her voice.
“This is really happening.”
“What do we do now?”
Barry laced his fingers through hers. “We go back to the reception. We dance. We celebrate Roman and Skylar. And then later, we figure out what happens next.”
“Together?”
“Together.”
Hand in hand, they walked back toward the lights and music and laughter.
Ten years of friendship.
Ten years of almosts.
And now—finally—a chance at always.
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