Chapter 6
My fingers trembled, and for a second, I almost thought he was going to hold my hand.
Zackary even bent down and whispered just for me, "Why are you still hiding blue thread in your sleeve?"
My fingers tightened.
All those years ago, when I had a high fever, he carried me up the mountain. sunrise.
When I did my first solo surgery, he waited outside the OR till dawn; on my dad's memorial night, he sat with me under the lighthouse, watching the sea until
Those moments were real.
So when he stood in front of me, noticed the blue thread, and brought up that old habit only we shared, I really thought he might change his mind.
A staff member reminded him softly, "Mr. Hoover, please confirm your bride."
Zackary didn't move.
Just then, a commotion broke out on the other side.
That was the section reserved for substitute brides.
Someone was clutching the edge of the table, looking like she might collapse. Her bridesmaid lowered her voice, but it was loud enough for those nearby to hear. "This bride can't breathe. Where's the medicine? Didn't Mr. Hoover know where it was?"
Most people had no idea who it was; they figured it was another bride freaking out.
But I knew; it was someone with Lexie.
Zackary knew it too.
His hand froze in midair.
I sat there, unable to speak, unable to lift my veil, and unable to reach out and hold him back.
That was the rule of the lighthouse wedding.
It was also the way out he'd prepared for himself.
From outside the crowd, someone whispered, "Zackary, hurry up. The live camera's about to turn this way."
Zackary finally moved.
As he walked past me, his sleeve nearly grazed the back of my hand.
The hand that once reached for me never fell, never touched me.
The next second, he stopped on the other side and took Lexie's hand in his.
The staff member was momentarily at a loss. "Mr. Hoover, are you sure?"
The waiting area was dead silent.
A few seconds later, Zackary said, "Yes."
His voice was quiet, but unmistakable.
The staff member prompted him again, "Please confirm with your vows."
At the lighthouse wedding, the groom had to recite the keyword from his vows before he could take his bride.
Zackary had originally registered with the words: [Whales find their way, and the lighthouse is home.]
He said those words to me when he gave me the brooch, back when he was twelve—something that belonged to just the two of us.
But now, he gave those exact words to someone else.
"Whales find their way, and the lighthouse is home," he said.
The staff member quickly confirmed it.
Applause broke out.
Everyone outside assumed Zackary had found his bride.
I stayed in my seat, watching them leave.
As she walked past me, her skirt brushed against the tip of my shoe.
I looked down and saw the wedding dress she was wearing; the chest was ringed with delicate wave embroidery, and tiny pearls shimmered on the cuffs.
That was my mother's wedding dress.
When I tried it on last year, the waist was still a little loose and the embroidery wasn't even finished.
Zackary said he was afraid it might get ruined on the big day, so he sent it off to a studio to be taken care of. Later, he told me it was lost.
I searched everywhere for it, reported it to the police, questioned the studio, and combed through all the shipping records.
He hugged me and promised he'd get me an even better one.
But now, that "lost" wedding dress was on Lexie.
As she reached the door, the sea breeze lifted her veil a little.
She glanced back at me.
It was a split second.
But I caught that little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
Zackary didn't look back, not even once.
He walked out of the waiting area, holding Lexie's hand.
Outside, the cheers exploded.
"The groom's found his bride."
"So romantic. He paused for so long. I really thought he wouldn't recognize her."
"Mr. Hoover actually recognized his bride after all."
Everyone thought I was the one he chose.
Only Zackary's close friends knew the truth.
They followed behind, their smiles awkward, making excuses for him as they went.
"It's just nerves, totally normal for the bride," one of them said.
"Zackary looked pretty startled for a second," another added.
"Come on, let's get on the boat. We don't want to miss the lucky hour," the third urged.
I sat in the third seat, watching through my veil as the third wedding yacht, the one that was supposed to pick me up, slowly left the dock.
The pale blue ribbon fluttered in the wind.
I was the one who picked that color.
I was the one who changed the canopy.
I was the one who wrote the vows.
Even that bouquet of white lisianthus in the cabin. I placed it there myself last night.
Now, Zackary stood at the bow, holding Lexie's hand.
People cheered in the distance, cameras tracking their every move.
Through the fog, they stood at the bow, like they belonged there all along.
Other brides got picked up one by one from the waiting area.
Soon, the wooden hall was almost empty.