I had spent the whole vacation helping mum plan her wedding. From choosing the caterers, to booking the hall for the reception, to choosing her wedding dress.
Now the day had finally arrived.
The was something about the lace.
The way it draped my mother's shoulders. I saw the way her smile trembled when she saw herself in the mirror, it felt like a prayer answered.
I smiled back.
My mind drifted back to the first time I saw him.
He was standing in our kitchen holding a casserole.
I had just returned from school, I was wearing dad's hoodie.
It still smelt like him. Still hadn't figured out a way to wash it without feeling like I was erasing him.
Mom looked flustered. Her bandaged ankle resting on a pillow.
He turned when I had walked in, polite smile already in place.
"You must be Nova."
I didn't answer. I was too busy noticing the details, the faint gray in his hair, the tired kindness in his eyes and the careful way he didn't reach to shake my hands.
Smart
I wouldn't have taken it.
"Mike is my boss. He took me to the hospital after I sprained my ankle and offered to bring me home after. He didn't want me to be alone so he offered to stay till you came back," mom smiled.
I watched him set the casserole dish on the table like it was sacred.
" Thought you too could use a day off from cooking."
Mom smiled. That soft, open smile I hadn't seen in months.
I hated how good it looked on her.
"Thanks," I said flatly, so I would have to stand there on silence.
He didn't push, didn't ask questions.
He just nodded, like he understood every wasn't saying.
I thre my bag into the sofa and walked to the kitchen to wash my hands. Mike had already set the table and helped mom to the dining table when I returned.
I filled my plate and hated how good the casserole tastes immediately I took a bite.
"You're a senior, right?" He asked casually not looking away from his plate. "Planning on going to college?"
I shrugged. "Planning on surviving this year."
His smile just faded a little. " Fair enough."
And then, to his credit, he didn't offer some pity line about how "it gets better" or "your dad would be proud of you" . He just asked what kind of music and movies I liked, like a normal person.
That was the beginning.
Not of liking him. Not yet.
But not of hating him either.
It took time, months of him keeping his distance.
Never pushing, but always respectful.
Always being there to make sure I was alone.
He'd show up to pick me up from school to get ice cream because mom said it was my favorite.
He'd show up to school whenever I got in trouble and scolded me secretly without mom knowing.
Then he started visiting the house frequently.
Fixing things around the house when he thought we weren't looking.
Leaving little notes on the fridge with cheesy jokes that made mom laugh out loud again.
Eventually he didn't feel like a stranger anymore.
He felt like….a part of healing, for my mom.
To me he was something. Not a replacement, something solid. Something steady.
I still wasn't sure I wanted him as a stepfather, but I saw the way he looked at mom like she was worth rebuilding life for.
And for that, I could live with it.
"You think he'd be ok with this?" My mom's voice pulled me out of thoughts.
I raised my eyes to look at her from the mirror just in time to catch her blinking back her tears.
She didn't have to say his name.
She meant my dad.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "He'd want you to be happy. You gave him everything, now it's your turn to be loved again."
She looked at me for a long moment, eyes glossy, full of love and ache all at once.
"You've grown so much Nova."
I smiled, even though I didn't feel grown.
I still missed him every time I walked through the front door.
I still reached for his mugs in the cabinet some mornings before I remembered.
But mom deserved this.
She deserved the second chance. The white dress. The quiet kind of love that didn't end in grief.
"You really like him, huh?" She asked, eyeing me in the mirror.
"I do," I lied. I didn't hate him. That was enough.
"At least you have a big brother now." Mom smiled.
"Cringe," I rolled my eyes.
"Come on…" Mom laughed. " someone to talk to. Joke with. Someone to watch movies with while I'm away."
"Is he here?" I asked.
"Not yet. He's away in school. Mike and I were thinking….."
"Great….Mike is involved in every decision now." I mumbled.
"Just listen," mom scolded me and I rolled my eyes.
A slight knock on the door interrupted our conversation and I sighed before going to open it.
It was my mom's coworker, Linda.
"It's time for you to go downstairs," she beamed as she walked inside.
"I'll take the lead," I smiled, thankfully for the chance to run away from whatever conversation mom had in mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone stood when the music started.
And for a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Not because the dress was beautiful, though it was.
Not because the lights caught the crystals in her veil just right, though it did.
But because I have never seen her look like that.
Just happy.
Radiant in a way that wasn't forced, or polite, or pretending for my sake.
She was glowing, not from the makeup or the dress or the soft blush on her cheek.
She was glowing because she was in love, again.
She flashed a smile when her eyes met mine.
I watched mom take her place and soon the pastor was praying and blessing the couple.
And as they said their vows, voice shaking, hands entwined, I smiled.
For her.
"….by the power vested in me…."
The pastor's voice paused.
Mike leaned in, his hand cupping the pastor's hand elbow. He whispered something low, quiet, just between them. The pastor's brow lifted just slightly, and then he gave a small nod.
My heart skipped.
Something was happening.
Something unscripted.
And then Mike turned.
Not to face my mother, but to face me.
He walked to me and reached for my hand.
And in front of everyone, before the kiss. Before the rings had barely settled.
He gently tugged me from the front row and pulled me to the altar with him.
I froze. "Mike…"
His voice was soft, steady. "Just a moment Nova."
My fingers were trembling in his.
My heels wobbled slightly against the step. But he didn't let go.
He turned to the crowd and then back to me.
"This part wasn't planned," he said, his voice louder now. Warm and sure.
"But I couldn't say 'I do' without saying this too."
Silence fell like blanket. The wind even seemed to hush.
My throat tightened. I couldn't look at my mom, my vision blurred fast.
"But today, I'm marrying your mom. And I'm choosing this family. Which means I'm choosing you, too,"
I couldn't breath. I could barely stand.
He looked at my mom, then at me.
"Nova…. I know I didn't raise you. I'll never be your father and I'll never try to replace what you lost."
He paused and took a long breath.
Mike's voice cracked, just a little. "So, in front of everyone here, I want to promise you something, Nova. That I will love you. That I will protect you. That I will always, always show up for you,like a father should've. Like a father would."
Gasps fluttered through the room. Someone behind me was already crying.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. But I couldn't stop the tears.
Mike reached out, brushing a single tear from my cheek. "You don't have to call me anything. You don't even have to like me right away. But I need you to know this,I'm yours now, too."
And that was it.
I broke.
Right there in front of 127 wedding guests and my dead father's ghost, I let go. Of the anger. The suspicion. The idea that letting someone else in meant forgetting what I'd lost.
Mike didn't kiss my forehead. Didn't pull me into a hug.
He just gave me my space. Let me cry and breathe and feel.
And then he gently placed my hand in my mom's before turning back to the pastor.
"Okay," he whispered. "Now I'm ready."
And I realized something, standing there, heart torn wide open,
This wasn't just the day I got a stepdad.
This was the day I gained someone I didn't know I needed.