Dad: Can we join the live stream? The link isn’t loading for us.
Madison: Did you seriously get 3 million people to watch your wedding? Why?
Three million.
I should have wanted to gloat.
Instead, everything suddenly felt simple.
My wedding mattered before anyone clicked the link.
Before the castle.
Before the cameras.
Before three million strangers watched.
I sent my family one response.
My wedding was important, too.
Then I put my phone away.
The reception was exactly what Ryan and I wanted.
String lights overhead.
Dancing.
Friends giving funny toasts because they actually knew us.
At one point, Ryan pulled me from a conversation and spun me beneath the lights.
“You did it.”
“We did it.”
He kissed my forehead.
“I’m proud of you.”
That meant more than every live-stream number.
Late that night, after the guests left, the replay count passed 4.6 million.
Ryan and I stood alone on a terrace overlooking the grounds.
The cameras were finally off.
The castle was quiet.
“Do you regret anything?” he asked.
I remembered that first call.
Mom saying Madison’s wedding was more sophisticated.
Dad telling me everyone had chosen hers.
Madison calling mine “cute.”
The suggestion that Ryan and I could have a backyard dinner later, as though our marriage could wait until it became convenient for everyone else.
Then I remembered the people who actually stood when I entered the courtyard.
“No.”
Ryan took my hand.
