“One,” he whispered.
Another.
“Two.”
Another.
“Three.”
I tightened my hand around his arm.
He glanced at me anxiously.
“Too fast?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“I practiced.”
“I know you did.”
We continued.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Perfectly.
Lena’s photographers moved almost invisibly around us.
One remained near the front.
Another followed our movement from the side, capturing the moments I had secretly rearranged the wedding budget to preserve.
Nathan never hurried.
He never lost his place.
He never let go.
Halfway down the aisle, I noticed his mouth beginning to tremble.
For a moment, I thought he might cry.
Instead, he leaned slightly toward me.
“Dad would’ve liked your dress.”
My vision blurred.
Somehow, we kept walking.
When we reached the altar, Nathan stopped exactly where Father Michael had instructed him.
He released my arm.
Then he shook Daniel’s hand.
Daniel ignored the formality and pulled him into a hug.
Nathan hugged him back.
Then he turned toward me.
According to the plan, that was the moment he was supposed to sit beside Mom.
Except he didn’t move.
Instead, he reached into his jacket.
My heart dropped.
“Nathan,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”
He pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
I looked at Daniel.
Daniel looked at me.
Judging by his expression, he knew nothing about it either.
Then I saw Father Michael smiling.
Apparently, someone had known.
Nathan unfolded the page.
His hands were trembling.
Then he turned toward the congregation.
“I wrote something.”
A few people laughed softly, not at him, but because the announcement was so perfectly Nathan.
He looked down at the page.
When he began speaking, his voice shook.
“Sarah is my little sister.”
Then he looked directly at me.
“Dad always walked with her when she was scared.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Nathan returned his eyes to the paper.
“Dad can’t do that today. So I did.”
The entire church went silent.
He continued.
“Dad told me I am her big brother, and I should take care of her.”
He paused.
Then came the final sentence.
“So that is what I am doing.”
I don’t remember how I remained standing.
I remember Daniel placing a hand against my back.
I remember Mom crying without even trying to hide it anymore.
I remember Father Michael removing his glasses and wiping his eyes.
And I remember Nathan folding his paper very carefully afterward.
Then he looked at Father Michael.
“Do I sit now?”
The church erupted into tearful laughter.
“Yes,” I managed to say.
Nathan smiled.
Then he walked over and sat beside Mom.
And the wedding continued.
Margaret said nothing.
Not about Nathan.
Not about the photographs.
Not that day.
