Part 2Found Spring Without Them

Stefani locked her phone like nothing had happened.

"Wesley likes to joke around. Stop reading into everything he says."

I dumped the oatmeal into the trash.

Her face hardened.

"So now you're refusing to eat just to get back at me?"

I didn't answer.

The doorbell rang.

A staff member from the wedding planning company walked in carrying two boxes of invitations, beaming.

"Mr. Neilsen, the magnolia invitations you designed are here. Our boss said they turned out beautiful."

I crouched down and opened a box. My fingers froze on the paper.

Half the invitations were gone.

Each one was sealed with hand-painted magnolia branches and embossed magnolia petals. I'd spent more than two months getting them right.

I looked at Stefani.

"Where are the rest?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear like it was no big deal.

"Wesley loved them, so I gave him half. He's writing in the names of his support group friends. It'll make the wedding feel livelier."

"They're my wedding invitations."

She frowned. "You don't even have that many friends. The rest are enough. If you run out, just send digital invites."

Wesley peeked in, a stack of addressed invitations in his hands, his voice quiet. "Nate, don't blame Stefani.

"I was just jealous. I'll probably never get the chance to send out wedding invitations."

Stefani took them from him, her voice gentle. "Just keep writing. Don't worry about Nate. He gets upset easily. He'll get over it."

The wedding planner stood there, caught between smiling and saying nothing.

I neatly stacked the invitations that were left.

"The rehearsal's this afternoon, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. The aisle and ceremony stage are all set. Ms. Lundberg said there's one last part of the ceremony we need to confirm."

That afternoon, Stefani drove Wesley to pick up my parents. I took a cab alone.

At the hotel, I found out what that "one last part" was.

White roses covered the ballroom. The emcee held the ceremony schedule, looking uneasy.

"Mr. Neilsen, Ms. Lundberg wants to walk down the aisle with your brother before the ceremony. Then you'll make your entrance. Can you confirm that order?"

I looked at Stefani.

She answered like it was perfectly reasonable. "Wesley's health isn't great. I want to walk down the aisle with him first, so he can experience what it feels like."

"What about me?"

She held my gaze. "You'll come in after. It doesn't interfere. He only gets this one chance. You'll have years."

Phoebe, the wedding coordinator, spoke up carefully. "But, Ms. Lundberg, the opening walk is usually for the bride and groom.

"If you walk with the groom's brother first, it might look a little—"

Mom cut her off. "Look like what? Wesley's suffered his whole life. What's wrong with letting him live out his dream at his brother's wedding?"

Dad nodded.

"Nate, stop being so petty. Wesley isn't stealing your moment."

Wesley lowered his eyes, the corners turning red.

"Nate, maybe we should forget it. I don't want people getting the wrong idea."

Stefani brushed a wrinkle from his tux.

"They won't. And if they do, I'll explain. You just worry about looking handsome."

I stood in a dark corner, out of reach of the lights.

Suddenly, I didn't feel like arguing anymore.

Anything I fought for would just be taken from me again.

The emcee held out the ceremony schedule.

"Mr. Neilsen, would you still like to sign off on it?"

I took the pen but didn't sign.

Instead, I folded the schedule and slipped it into my bag.

That night, Stefani slept in the guest room.

Wesley was a light sleeper. He claimed he was anxious about the wedding, so he'd recently moved into our apartment.

Through the closed door, Stefani read him a bedtime story, her voice soft and steady.

"Don't be scared. I'll stay by your side the whole wedding day."

I sat alone in the living room, canceled our honeymoon tickets to the Maldives, and booked a one-way train to Linden Bay for seven days later.

The confirmation popped up on my phone.

At the same time, Wesley's quiet laugh drifted from the guest room.

I turned on the shredder and fed the remaining invitations through one by one.

Stefani came out and froze at the scraps covering the floor.

"Nate Neilsen, have you lost your mind?"

I pushed in the last invitation and met her eyes.

Before she could say anything, her phone lit up again.

Wesley had sent her a photo.

He'd written [Your Groom] across the back of the reception picture, with a red heart underneath.