Clara
Sebastian and Julian's wedding day arrived on a bright April morning, the small garden behind their new home transformed with simple, elegant touches, white flowers woven through a modest arbor, chairs arranged for perhaps forty guests, the kind of intimate gathering that felt considerably more genuine than the elaborate spectacle of Sebastian's first wedding.
I helped Julian dress in the guest room upstairs, adjusting his boutonniere with careful hands while he stood before the mirror, visibly nervous despite the joy radiating from every part of his expression.
"You look wonderful," I said, stepping back to admire the finished result. "Sebastian's going to lose every bit of composure the moment he sees you."
"I keep waiting to wake up," Julian admitted, his voice unsteady. "Six
