Page 92 of A Bittersweet Summer

A life of moving around, she’d said as an answer.

Ellis slowly pulls the dress up over her hips, and I help get the straps over her shoulders. The sleek dress looks just as beautiful as the day she tried it on last month. Maybe even more beautiful.

Her cheeks are tinted a soft pink, makeup simple and dewy. She’d talked about the makeup all week, veering away from a matte look since it would be dewy the moment she set foot outside anyway.

I slowly work the zipper at the back, and set to work on the buttons. “You’re the most beautiful bride,” I say before glancing up in the floor-length mirror. Ellis’s eyes are lined with tears, and she reaches for the dresser, plucking a tissue from the box on top.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, dabbing the tissue below her eyes. When she looks up, trying to keep the tears from falling and ruining the makeup, I find myself pulled into grief with her.

“It’s silly, really. Youjustlost Gus, and I’m over here crying about my mom.”

“On your wedding day,” I say, rounding her to place my hands on both her shoulders. “That’s reasonable.”

Ellis chuckles. “I’m so very happy,” she says, dabbing her nose. “I really,reallyam. It’s just—”

“An undercurrent of sadness,” I answer. I look up, swiping at my own tears with a manicured finger.

“An undercurrent of sadness.” Ellis sniffles, and I give in to grab a tissue from the box, too. “The longer time goes by, the more I see the empty spaces my mom was supposed to fill. Even if B did everything exactly right, there would always be holes. Holes in my life—pieces that were taken so early.”

“I understand.”

And I do.

It’s not the conversation we should be having mere hours before her wedding. Or maybe it is.

“My parents have never been—great,” I confess. It’s more than I’ve shared with my friends before, but it seems fitting. “I always thought Gus would walk me down the aisle, and now there’s just no one. It’s just me, now. And I feel so alone despite being surrounded by so many amazing friends.”

“I was thirteen,” Ellis says, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. “I was thirteen, and I still feel like that sometimes.”

I dab my eyes, careful of the makeup I worked so hard on, and draw her in for a hug. “If there is an afterlife,” I say, “I’m sure she sees you right now and believes you’re the most beautiful bride to ever exist.”

We stand there, our sorrow binding us for one quiet moment. It’s like an invisible thread tying us together.

When we pull back, that thread is still there. It’s the realization that someone went through something so similar and understands—and we will both be okay.

Ellis sighs, smoothing her dress down at her hips. “Bittersweet,” she says.

And I nod.

Because nothing has ever felt so true.

“And now…” Griffin’s dad pauses, a wide smile on his face—like he spent his whole life preparing to officiate this wedding.

And maybe he had, considering he had the licensing for it.

“Son,” he says, looking at Griffin. “You may kiss your bride.”

Cheers erupt from the grass, the willow tree rustling with the wind around us as if it were joining in the excitement.

The procession starts, faces blurring around me until I spot Megan somewhere at the back. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling softly.

She’d been asked to come as Gus’s plus one, and following his death, I’d encouraged her to still attend. I’m not sure what kind of support system she has, but I’ll be here if she needs it—someone to rely on. It’s the least I can do to repay all those around me who’ve helped me through.

“You’re here,” I mouth, and her smile widens.

When I pass her, I don’t miss her, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The reception takes place on the other side of the hill, just past the house, close to the barn. Chairs and tables litter the yard, complete with wine bottles filled with wildflowers. Before we move to the reception, we all gather for photos.