Chapter 3

I called Evelyn immediately and asked her to withdraw the new wedding-party lineup.

“I never agreed to remove Maya from the ceremony.”

I heard papers shifting on her end. “Sloane emailed the change last night. Owen was copied. She said Maya would be leaving Denver soon and that you’d both agreed to have her give her speech remotely.”

Owen had approved his female best friend’s place beside him, then let her decide who would stand beside me.

I told Evelyn to restore the previous version.

From that point on, any change involving the ceremony, our vows, or either side of the wedding party would require written approval from both Owen and me.

Only after I hung up did I call Maya.

She had received an offer for a six-month assignment overseas and would be leaving the following week.

The night before, she had only told our family group chat that she expected an answer soon.

She had planned to tell me herself that morning.

Sloane had taken one uncertain sentence and turned it into a final wedding decision.

“Harper, I want to stand beside you,” Maya said. “But I can’t turn down this opportunity for the wedding. You need someone who can actually be there and support you.”

I stared out the window as one name came to mind.

“Jonah gets back today.”

Maya went quiet for a second. “If you choose him because you trust him, I support you. If you’re only trying to make Owen jealous, you’ll be dragging yourself into their game.”

That afternoon, Jonah returned to Denver with one final sound edit left on a documentary he had been working on out of town.

We met at a coffee shop near the museum. I walked over from work; he arrived with his suitcase and a hard drive in his backpack, straight from the airport.

We had known each other for eighteen years.

When we were twenty, he told me he had feelings for me. I turned him down, and he disappeared for two months.

When he came back, the only thing he asked was whether we could still be friends.

In the ten years since, he had never used that confession to claim a special place in my life.

I told him about Sloane becoming Owen’s best man, the screenshot of my vows, and Maya’s assignment. Then I asked, “Would you be my man of honor?”

Jonah didn’t answer right away.

“Do you want me standing beside you because you need me there,” he asked, “or because you want Owen to see me and suffer?”

The question struck the part of my motive I hadn’t wanted to admit.

I had imagined Owen’s face when he saw Jonah.

But once the flash of revenge passed, what remained was the empty place beside me at my own wedding—and my refusal to let Sloane decide who got to fill it.

“I need someone who will ask what I want before deciding for me.”

Jonah nodded. “Then yes. But all wedding communication stays transparent. No suggestive jokes about our past, and I’m not replacing Maya. If you stop needing me, tell me directly.”

That evening, I told Owen.

The moment he heard Jonah’s name, his smile disappeared.

“Why does it have to be him?”

I looked at the man who had told me only yesterday that everyone should choose their own wedding party.

“Because you said each of us gets to decide who stands beside us.”