Chapter 16: Wedding

Six months later, a month before the wedding, Lola called.

“We’re going out,” she said. “You, me, Tiffany, Erika, Sarah, and anyone else you want. We’re painting this town rainbow.”

Emily laughed. “Rainbow?”

“Gay bar in the Village. Where else would we go? Plus, they have karaoke, and you know how I feel about karaoke.”

The night came. Emily got dressed in her apartment. Tight black jeans. A sparkly top that Sophie said made her look “criminally hot.” Heels that made her legs look miles long. She did her makeup bold and dramatic. She felt beautiful. Excited.

When she met everyone at the bar, Lola, Tiffany, and Erika were already there, dressed up and holding drinks. Then Sarah arrived, and Emily’s jaw dropped.

Sarah looked stunning. Her hair in soft waves, wearing a fitted dress and heels, glowing.

They went inside. Rainbow flags hung from the ceiling, dance music pumped through the speakers, and a small stage was set up for karaoke. The crowd was mostly LGBTQ+. The atmosphere felt welcoming. Safe. Emily felt at home.

“First round’s on me!” Lola announced, leading them to the bar.

Drinks flowed. They danced in a group, laughing and spinning and just enjoying being together. Emily felt free. Happy. Surrounded by her best friends and her sister, celebrating.

Then came karaoke.

“We’re doing a duet!” Sarah announced, pulling Emily toward the stage. “No arguments!”

They picked “Dancing Queen” by ABBA. They belted it out together, off-key and enthusiastic, wrapped close as they sang into the same microphone. The bar cheered and clapped along.

When the song ended, Sarah pulled Emily into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you, Em. You and Sophie are great together.”

“Thank you for being here,” Emily said, holding on tight. “Thank you for supporting me.”

“Of course,” Sarah promised.

More songs followed. Tiffany and Erika did a terrible but funny version of “I Will Survive.” Lola dragged some random cute girl from the audience up to sing “Don’t Stop Believin’” with her.

Around midnight, they ended up in a corner booth. Sweaty and happy and a little drunk. Piled together and talking about high school, about how far they’d all come.

“Remember when you turned down, like, five guys asking you to prom?” Tiffany said to Emily. “We were so confused about who your mystery date was.”

“And then you showed up with Sophie and we were like ‘Oh!’” Erika laughed. “That was such a moment.”

“That was the night I came out,” Emily said, smiling at the memory. “Scary as hell, but so worth it.”

“To Emily!” Sarah raised her glass. “The bravest, most talented, most loving person I know. May your marriage be as beautiful as you are.”

“To Emily!” everyone echoed, clinking glasses.

They stayed until last call. Then poured out onto the street, still laughing and singing. Sarah and Emily walked arm in arm, leaning on each other.

“Best bachelorette party ever,” Emily said.

“Agreed,” Sarah said. “Though I might regret all this drinking tomorrow.”

They walked a few more steps before Sarah stopped suddenly, holding Emily back. When Emily turned to look at her, Sarah’s eyes were wet with tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Emily asked.

Sarah let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. “It’s stupid. I’m happy for you, I really am.” She paused. “I feel like I’m the little sister now. I don’t even have a boyfriend or a job yet, and here you are getting married, living your dream life...”

Her voice cracked. “You were supposed to be my little sister. And now you’re so much more grown up than me. You have everything figured out and I’m still...”

Emily felt her own eyes well up. Before she knew it, both sisters were crying on the sidewalk, holding onto each other. Behind them, someone, probably Lola, let out an exasperated but affectionate sigh.

“Sarah,” Emily said, her voice thick. She pulled back to look at her sister. “You gave me this life. You gave me everything. Without you, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be getting married. I wouldn’t be Emily.”

Sarah’s face crumpled. “But I took away your choice.”

“You gave me a choice when you learned about it,” Emily said firmly, tears streaming down her face. “And I chose this. I chose to be your little sister. I chose this life. And I would choose it again and again.”

She gripped Sarah’s hands tightly. “You’re my big sister. You’ll be my big sister when we’re both old and gray. You taught me about periods. You helped me come out. You held me when I was scared. That doesn’t change just because I’m getting married first.”

“I’m also scared I’m losing you,” Sarah sobbed.

“You’re not losing me,” Emily promised, pulling her close again. “You’re gaining Sophie. We’re all family now.”

They stood there on the sidewalk, holding each other and crying, until Lola finally came over and wrapped her arms around both of them.

“Group hug,” she said. Soon Tiffany and Erika joined in too. All five of them standing in a circle, crying and laughing together.

When they finally said goodnight, hugs all around, Emily headed home feeling full of love and anticipation for what came next.

The wedding was small. Held in a beautiful garden venue in Brooklyn on a cold February day, just a few days before Emily’s birth day.

They’d invited only close friends and family. About forty people. They knew not everyone was comfortable with same-sex marriage. Some extended family members had chosen not to come. But everyone who was there loved them and supported them. That was all that mattered.

Emily had gotten ready in a separate room with Lola, Tiffany, and Erika fussing over her. She wore a simple white dress. Elegant. Not too formal. Lace sleeves and a flowing skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places before flowing out. Her hair was in soft waves down her back. Minimal makeup, just enough to enhance her features. She looked stunning.

Sophie had gotten ready elsewhere with her own friends. She wore a white suit, tailored perfectly to her body. A silk shirt underneath. Her dark hair was styled back. She looked elegant and handsome.

They’d decided not to see each other before the ceremony. To make the moment more special.

The ceremony was done by one of their NYU professors who’d become a friend. They’d written their own vows.

Sophie stood at the altar, nervous and excited. Her heart was pounding. The music started. Everyone stood and turned.

And then Emily appeared at the end of the aisle.

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. Her whole body went still.

Emily was ethereal. The dress fit her like it had been painted on. The lace sleeves showed just enough skin to make Sophie’s mouth go dry. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders. The February light caught on her face, making her glow.

Sophie’s hands clenched at her sides. Her jaw tight. Every muscle in her body was tense with the effort of staying still. Of not running down that aisle and pulling Emily into her arms. Of not kissing her right there in front of everyone.

God, she wanted to. She wanted to forget the ceremony, forget the vows, forget everything except the feeling of Emily in her arms.

Emily started walking down the aisle. Slowly. Her eyes locked on Sophie’s.

And Emily was having the same reaction.

Sophie in that suit. The way it fit her. The way she stood there looking at Emily like she was the only person in the world. Emily’s steps faltered for a moment. Her breath caught. She wanted to run to her. To close the distance. To feel Sophie’s hands on her waist.

They were both barely holding it together.

When Emily finally reached the altar, Sophie reached out to take her hands. The moment their skin touched, electricity shot through both of them.

“Hi,” Sophie whispered, her voice rough.

“Hi,” Emily whispered back, her eyes never leaving Sophie’s face.

The officiant smiled knowingly. “Shall we begin?”

They both nodded, but neither could look away from each other.

Emily went first. Her hands trembled as she held Sophie’s.

“Sophie,” she began. Her voice was already shaking. She took a breath, trying to steady herself. “When I met you, I was seventeen and terrified. Terrified of who I was. Terrified of what people would think. Terrified of being seen.”