Meet Me at Midnight

16 | Something Borrowed

Nick

She left without a word. Just grabbed the dress, thanked us both like we were two strangers who happened to be standing nearby, and disappeared back up the stairs.

Liam stood there a second too long after she left. And I stood there too, pretending I wasn’t watching him watch her.

Pretending it didn’t matter that he noticed things I didn’t want anyone else to notice.

He glanced at me, frustration etched deep in his brow, then sighed and walked away. Good, because I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from saying something I’d regret.

Now, back in the groomsmen suite, I’m adjusting the cuff of my shirt, trying not to overthink it. It only took five seconds. One look, and every lie I told myself this morning, every effort to forget, came undone.

I don't think I could force myself to forget about her.

“Dude, you good?” Andrew, the man of the hour, claps me on the back. He’s already dressed, a big smile on his face he couldn't hide even if he tried. “You’re spacing out. Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet. You’re not even the one getting married.”

I smirk. “Just tired, man. Long morning. Gotta make sure my best friend has the best day.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, it’s chaos up there. Sarah texted me and said one of the dresses got hit with wine.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, that’s been handled,” I say, a little sharper than necessary.

Andrew raises an eyebrow in question, but doesn’t press. “Alright. Let’s go over everything one more time. You’ve got the rings?”

I pat my jacket pocket. “Right here.”

“Good. Then we’re golden.”

We finish our quick run-through of the ceremony, order of entrances, timing, where to stand, when to hand off the rings. Andrew’s triple-checking everything, nerves finally starting to kick in.

He pauses and looks at me. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

I hesitate. “Yeah. I’m good. Besides, I should be the one asking you that. How are you feeling?”

He grins from ear to ear, telling me everything I need to know. “So pumped, man. I can’t wait to marry her. I've been waiting for this day since the day we met, let's be real.”

I chuckle, remembering that day very clearly. Andrew swore when he saw her walk by our table that he was going to marry that girl, and s**t, he wasn't wrong. I envy that kind of certainty.

Sarah deserves her perfect day. She’s been a rock for all of us, especially Stella. She deserves the kind of day you remember forever, in a good way.

The snow is still falling outside. Light. Peaceful. Everything is blanketed in white like the world’s trying to make this day feel clean, new.

We make our way to the clearing where the ceremony will take place. Guests are beginning to gather. There’s a hush over the crowd, the kind of silence that comes before something sacred.

I take my place at the altar beside Andrew. He fiddles with the cuff of his suit, nervously pulling at it, unable to stand still. Understandably, he's freaking out, not that he will ever voice that. Not because he doesn't want to marry Sarah, but because he can't wait to marry her.

Music hums faintly in the background. A string quartet. Sarah’s touch, no doubt.

The air is cold, but I barely feel it. I’m too busy scanning the path where the bridal party will enter.

Waiting.

Because she’ll be walking down it too.

And I’m not ready. I never am when it comes to her.

But this time, I won’t flinch. I won’t fall apart. She gets to walk past me, and I’ll let her. I’ll stand still and I won’t reach for something that was never really mine.

Beneath the surface, though, I’m unraveling. I keep replaying the way her laugh slipped out in that laundry room. The way she pressed the steamer to that dress like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. The way her voice went quiet when Liam showed up.

He looked at her like he had some kind of claim. Like he knew something I didn’t. And maybe he does. Maybe he’s been where I never got to go. The thought makes something coil tight in my gut.

I shake it off.

This isn’t about me. Not today. Not here.

The guests settle into their seats as the music shifts, lighter now, familiar. It’s starting.

I nudge Andrew, leaning in just enough to mutter, “Ready?”

He grins, eyes flicking to the aisle. “As I’ll ever be.”

The bridal party lines up, the procession beginning. A few bridesmaids walk out first, faces I recognize but don’t register. I know who they are, sure, but none of them are her. And right now, all I can think about is her.

The second she turns the corner, the breath leaves my lungs.

She’s wearing a floor-length blush dress that fits her like it was stitched straight onto her skin. Elegant. Effortless. Every step she takes pulls the air taut between us. She looks ahead, eyes fixed on the aisle. Never once glancing my way.

And yet I feel everything.

The memory of her skin, warm under my hands. The faint trace of her perfume brushing past me like a ghost. The tension in the space between us cuts sharper than the cold mountain air.

She reaches the end of the aisle, and suddenly, everything else disappears. The music, the guests, the falling snow, it all fades beneath the gravity of the silence stretching between us.

She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even flinch. Just walks like I’m not right here.

And maybe silence cuts deeper than cruelty ever could.

Beside me, Andrew exhales slowly, nerves spilling out in quiet waves. I want to focus on him. I want this moment to be about his joy, not my mess.

And then Sarah appears.

Every head turns. The music swells. She looks like she stepped out of a dream, glowing, radiant, her eyes locked on Andrew like nothing else in the world exists.

He straightens at my side, and I catch the way his whole face lights up when he sees her.

That’s the look. The one people wait their whole lives to give and receive. You’re it. You’re mine. You always have been.

And somewhere deep in my chest, it hits me, hard.

That ache I keep pretending isn’t there.

Because I’ve never had someone look at me like that. Not with Stella. Not with anyone.

And maybe… I never will.

So I stand still, silent, trying not to show that I’m dreaming of a different bride.