Rue and Eli break apart. My brother beams, looks in our direction as if to say, Maya, Hark, did you see this? Did you see me marry her? Do you see my wife? Rue, though, tugs at his hand, asking for one more second of his undivided attention.

“Just,” she says, and it’s so oddly out of character for her. The hesitation. The way her voice carries to us. “Thank you. For not giving up on me, even though I had given up on me.”

Eli’s reply is an extended murmur in her ear. The tears rear back, flooding my eyes.

“That’s not like you,” my brother tuts, turning in my direction. “Bawling at a wedding.”

I wipe my cheek with the heel of my hand. “I’m not bawling.”

“Of course not, pumpkin.” He hasn’t called me that…God. Since I was twelve, maybe. Dad’s funeral. Gently, he coaxes me out of Conor’s arms and into his own.

“I’m so happy for you. I don’t know why I’m making such a scene. It’s just—things were so shitty for a while, and we were so alone, and I’m…really, really happy that you have this.”

“I know.” His palm travels up and down my back. And then it’s Rue’s turn, which…doesn’t happen a lot. In fact, it may be our first hug. She’s much taller than I am, and despite her softness there is something rigid about this, a sense of discomfort on her part. It makes me love her even more.

“I’m sorry about coming to your wedding in my overalls with little strawberries embroidered on them. If Eli had told me where we were going, I’d have worn my tripod shirt.”

She pulls back, but holds on to my hand. A smile tugs at her lips. “The second best thing about meeting Eli, is that it led to you becoming my family.”

“Second after Tiny, or second after Eli?”

She considers it. “May I amend my previous statement?”

“Third, huh?”

She nods somberly, kisses me on the forehead, and I think my heart explodes.

Next to us, Conor and Eli just exchange one of those one-armed hugs, even as Tiny tries to get right between them. “Congrats on not letting a natural disaster fuck with your wedding, man.” Then we’re all heading back down, the trip much less quiet this time around. Salvatore leaves the gates of the park open before leaving, explaining something about how time is not so important in Italy. When the others head for the car, I stay behind.

“Hey, is there a party planned for when we get back to the villa?” I ask. Eli and Rue turn to each other. And never look away. “Gross, guys,” I laugh. “Get a room, please.”

“That’s precisely what we’re about to do.”

“Okay, well, since you’re going to be breaking headboards or something, I’ll stay here. Explore the follies.”

Eli frowns. “Would it be dangerous? There aren’t many people out yet—”

“I’ll stay, too,” Conor reassures him.

“Hark? You sure?”