Sarah opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the sun-drenched white ceiling of her bedroom. She stretched, a soft smile playing on her lips, and turned her head. Beside her, arm thrown carelessly over the pillow, slept Jason, her husband. Husband… The word still felt foreign on her tongue, but it sent a warm wave of comfort through her chest.
Yesterday was their day. Their wedding.
Sarah slipped quietly out from under the duvet, threw on her silk robe, and padded into the kitchen. She flipped the switch on the coffee maker and pulled the leftovers of the wedding cake from the fridge—a three-tier vanilla bean masterpiece with buttercream roses that everyone had raved about. She sat at the island, broke off a piece of the sponge cake, and closed her eyes. The events of the previous evening replayed in her mind like a movie reel.
The reception had been at “The Ivy Trellis,” a charming, family-owned bistro with about twenty tables. She and Jason had spent weeks choosing the spot, finally settling on it for its intimate, unpretentious vibe. There were about forty guests, just their inner circle. Parents from both sides, a few close friends, Sarah’s colleagues from the elementary school, and Jason’s buddies from the auto body shop where he worked as a lead mechanic. And, of course, the bridesmaids: Emily, Jessica, and Chloe.
Sarah recalled the moment her father walked her down the aisle. Dad was wearing a sharp charcoal suit he’d clearly bought just for this occasion, fighting back tears the entire walk.
“You look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he had whispered as they paused before the arbor, draped in white roses and greenery.
Then came the moment she saw Jason standing at the end of the aisle. He looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. His eyes were shimmering, a nervous smile trembling on his lips. Tall, broad-shouldered, looking dashing in a navy blue suit—her Prince Charming.
They had met only six months ago. It was funny to think about now—at a Barnes & Noble downtown. Sarah was browsing the education section for lesson plan resources, while he was in the automotive aisle nearby. She had accidentally bumped him with her elbow while reaching for a book on a high shelf.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, blushing furiously.
“No worries!” he laughed. “Here, let me get that for you before you bring the whole shelf down.”
He grabbed the book, handed it to her, and asked, “School teacher, right?”
“How did you guess?”
“The look. My third-grade teacher had the exact same look: strict but kind.”
They started talking right there between the bookshelves. He walked her to her car and asked for her number. He called that same evening. Things moved at lightning speed after that: dates, walks through the city at night, cooking dinner together. Jason turned out to be attentive and caring. He always asked about her day and even brought her Starbucks at school during a particularly brutal week of standardized testing.
A month later, he said, “I’m serious about this, Sarah. I want you to be my wife.”
Sarah had laughed then. “Jason, we barely know each other.”
“So we’ll get to know each other,” he replied. “But I already know you’re the one.”
Maybe it was too fast. Her mom had been skeptical: “Sarah, are you sure? Six months is nothing.” But Sarah felt it in her gut: yes, she was sure. With Jason, everything felt easy, calm, and secure. He didn’t play games, didn’t ghost her, didn’t mess with her head. It was honest and grown-up.
He proposed four months in, at the park by the fountain, with no audience. Just a simple ring with a modest diamond, but it felt sincere.
“Marry me. I promise to make you happy.”
Sarah took a sip of her coffee and looked at the band on her finger. Gold, thin, with an inscription inside: Sarah + Jason. Forever. He wore a matching one. They had picked them out together at a local jeweler’s, arguing playfully and laughing as they tried on different styles. In the end, they chose the simplest ones—no paving, no intricate designs.
“The important thing is that they’re ours,” Jason had said.
There was a moment at the wedding yesterday that Sarah would remember forever. The first dance. The DJ played a slow acoustic cover of “Stand by Me.” Jason held her by the waist, pulled her close, and whispered in her ear:
“Thank you for existing. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
Sarah’s breath hitched. She pressed herself tighter against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The guests around them smiled, phones raised to capture the moment, but to the two of them, it felt like they were the only people in the universe.
Then came the father-daughter dance. Dad shuffled awkwardly; he had never been much of a dancer.
“Sorry, honey, if I’m stepping on your toes,” he muttered.
“Dad, you’re doing great,” Sarah reassured him, hugging his shoulders. He was shorter than Jason, so she didn’t have to look up as high.
“You’re a married woman now,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Take care of yourself. If you need anything, you know where Mom and I are.”
“Always.”
Sarah nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. It was a poignant moment, the final dance of Daddy’s little girl before fully stepping into her new life.
The guests partied late into the night. There were speeches, toasts, and dancing. At the head table, Jason held her hand, occasionally kissing her temple. His friends swapped stories from the shop, while Sarah’s colleagues reminisced about funny classroom mishaps.
And Jessica was constantly hovering nearby. She had always been like that: loud, vibrant, impossible to miss. A tall blonde with legs for days and a talent for wearing tight dresses. They had been friends since college, though, to be honest, Sarah never felt a deep spiritual connection with her. Jessica was the type who loved being the center of attention, catching admiring glances, and flirting with anything that moved. But not inviting her to the wedding was out of the question—she was an old friend, after all.
Sarah remembered how, at one point in the evening, Jessica had draped her arms around Jason’s shoulders and laughed loudly at something he said.
“Good job finding our Sarah!” she announced so everyone could hear. “Take care of her, she’s pure gold!”
Jason smiled and nodded. At the time, it seemed like typical friendly banter. Jessica was always touchy-feely with everyone, kissing cheeks and hanging onto arms. It was just her personality.
The apartment they were currently in—or rather, the one they had crossed the threshold of together last night—was Sarah’s. A two-bedroom condo in a nice complex on the north side of town. She had inherited it from her grandmother three years ago. Grandma had been a bookkeeper her whole life, meticulous and frugal, saving every penny. She bought the place in the nineties when prices were low. Before she passed, she signed the deed over to her only granddaughter.
“Let this be your nest,” Grandma had said from her hospital bed. “Don’t sell it, Sarah. Keep it.”
Sarah never thought of selling. She did some light renovations, painted the walls in soft neutrals, updated the living room furniture, and installed new cabinets in the kitchen. It was cozy and felt like home. When Jason first visited, he immediately noted:
“It feels… warm here. Like a real home.”
He had been renting a studio apartment on the outskirts of town, claiming he was saving up for a place of his own, but the mechanic’s wages made it slow going. When they got married, the housing question solved itself.
“Move in with me,” Sarah had said. “Why pay rent when we have a place to live mortgage-free?”
Jason agreed without hesitation….
