The morning of the wedding dawned soft and golden, the kind of spring day that almost felt like it had been ordered specially.
Lucy stood in front of the mirror in the tiny bridal suite, her fingers smoothing down the satin of her simple, elegant dress. No glitter. No heavy beading. Just a dress that felt like her — understated, graceful, strong.
Harper stood behind her, misty-eyed but grinning.
“You look like you,” Harper whispered, fastening the last button.
“That was the point,” Lucy said, her voice wobbly despite herself.
The small garden venue was already filling with people — friends, neighbors, some of Miles’s extended family. Graham had already taken his post as unofficial bodyguard, quietly keeping the flow of things smooth and drama-free.
Nook had closed for the day, with a hand-painted sign in the window that simply read:
Gone to see something beautiful.
Out in the garden, Miles waited, standing under a wooden arch draped with wildflowers.
No tux.
Just a deep navy suit, his tie loosened slightly at the collar.
Graham stood beside him as his best man, his usual stoicism softened slightly by the occasion.
When the music changed, everyone turned.
Lucy stepped out into the sunlight, Harper holding her bouquet, and Miles forgot how to breathe.
He had seen her every day for months.
He had kissed her until she laughed and stolen every possible moment to touch her hand.
But this — this — was something different.
This was her saying yes to him.
To all the messy, stubborn, ridiculous parts of him.
To forever.
Lucy met his eyes as she walked, her smile trembling at the edges, so full of emotion it almost knocked him over.
When she reached him, she slipped her hand into his without hesitation.
“You ready for this?” he asked lowly, so only she could hear.
Lucy smiled.
“I was born ready.”
The ceremony was short and painfully sweet.
When they exchanged vows, they didn’t use traditional scripts.
They used words they had written in stolen, nervous moments.
Miles’s voice was steady.
“I fought you at first,” he said. “Fought what I felt. You steamrolled into my life when I thought I’d built a fortress no one could get through. And somehow, you made it a home instead.”
Lucy’s voice cracked as she replied:
“You made me believe in more again. You reminded me that broken things can still build something stronger. I’m not afraid anymore… not of love. Not with you.”
When the officiant declared them husband and wife, there was no polite kiss.
Miles pulled her in and kissed her like she was the center of his world — because she was.
The crowd cheered and whooped and even Graham cracked a rare, approving smile.
Later, under the fairy lights strung through the trees, Miles and Lucy danced.
It wasn’t perfect — Lucy stumbled once, and Miles trod on the hem of her dress — but neither cared.
They were laughing too hard.
At one point, Graham clinked his glass and muttered, “Get a room,” earning a loud, good-natured groan from Harper.
The evening melted into easy joy — dancing, stories, soft music, and whispered promises no one else could hear.
And as the stars blinked into the navy sky, Miles and Lucy sat together at the edge of the garden, her head on his shoulder.
“Did you ever think,” Lucy said sleepily, “that all of this started because you stole my client?”
Miles chuckled lowly.
“Technically, you crashed into me.”
She lifted her head and kissed his jaw.
“And I’d do it all over again.”
He turned, caught her mouth with his, and in that kiss was every choice, every stubborn step, every broken piece they’d welded together into something stronger.
Something unbreakable.
Baawa Unfiltered 