Third Wedding, Right Groom

My hands were trembling as I pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my contacts with shaking fingers until I found the name I needed. The name I should have called a long time ago.

Alexander Calvert.

My best friend since we were seven years old. The boy who'd taught me to ride a bike and picked me up when I fell.

The man who'd been there for every important moment of my life-except the ones where I'd been too blinded by Miles to see him. The man who'd told me, just last night, that he loved me and would always be there if I needed him.

I needed him now.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Each ring felt like an eternity. Around me, the chapel had dissolved into chaos-my mother crying, my father arguing with someone, bridesmaids whispering urgently, guests pulling out their phones to text their friends about the drama unfolding before their eyes.

But I stood perfectly still in the eye of the storm, waiting. "Lila?" Alexander's deep voice came through on the third ring, tinged with surprise and something else-concern, maybe, or hope.

"Shouldn't you be getting married right about now?" His voice alone made something loosen in my chest. Steady. Calm. Present. Everything Miles had never been.

"Alexander." I was surprised by how steady my own voice sounded, considering my entire life had just imploded for the third time. "I'm holding a wedding, and I need a groom.

Do you still want to marry me?" Silence. For three heartbeats-I counted them-there was complete silence on the other end.

I could picture him in that moment, wherever he was. Probably in his office downtown, surrounded by the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

His dark hair was slightly disheveled from running his hands through it, the way he always did when he was thinking.

His gray eyes were sharp and focused, already calculating, already deciding.

Then, in that stern, decisive tone I'd known since we were children building forts in his backyard, the voice that had always made me feel safe: "I'll be there in ten minutes." The line went dead.

No questions. No hesitation. No demands for explanation. Just absolute certainty and a promise that I knew-I knew-he would keep.

I stared at my phone, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Had I really just done that? Had I really just asked my best friend to marry me? This was insane.

This was impulsive and reckless and possibly the most dramatic thing I'd ever done.

Or maybe it was the first truly clear-headed decision I'd made in three years.

My maid of honor, Jessica, rushed up to me, her emerald bridesmaid dress swishing around her ankles. Her face was a mixture of concern and barely suppressed fury-fury at Miles, I knew, not at me.

"Lila, oh my God, are you okay?

What are you doing?

Should we tell everyone to go home?

Should we cancel the reception?" I looked at her, then at the crowd of guests who were still whispering and watching.

Some had started to stand, gathering their things, assuming the show was over.

My mother was crying in the front row, my father's arm around her shoulders. My father looked furious, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping from where I stood.

This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I'd planned it for months-for years, really, if you counted all the planning that had gone into the previous two failed attempts. The flowers were perfect. The music was cued. The reception hall was decorated and ready. The cake was a four-tier masterpiece.

Everything was perfect except for the one essential element: the groom. But maybe I'd just been planning to marry the wrong man all along. "No," I said clearly, loudly enough that several nearby guests turned to look at me. "We're not canceling. We're not sending people home. We're just... changing the groom." Jessica's eyes went wide, her mascara-lined lashes nearly hitting her eyebrows.

"What? Lila, what are you talking about?"

"Tell the officiant to wait ten minutes," I said, a strange calm settling over me now that the decision was made. "And tell the DJ to keep playing.

Announce that there's been a slight delay, but the wedding will proceed as planned. Offer people champagne. And tell my parents-" I paused, seeing my mother's tear-stained face, "-tell them I know what I'm doing." Jessica stared at me like I'd lost my mind.

Maybe I had.

Or maybe I'd finally found it.