“Excuse me?”

“Uh.” Somers’s expression shifted into a disarming smile. “Thank you?”

They approached the chapel. Hazard could see a deck that extended off the back of the structure. “I thought we said no chapel.”

“I know, but let’s just look.”

“And you want to do the reception here?”

“I don’t know.”

“I thought you said this place was bigger.”

Somers was scrubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, well, I guess I got it wrong.”

“So why are we even here?”

“Ree, let’s just please take a look and see.”

“Ok,” Hazard said, raising his hands. “Whatever you want.”

“This is what I want.”

“I’m easy to please. I just want you to have whatever you—”

Somers grabbed his hand, tugged him toward the building, and muttered something about murder under his breath.

When they stepped inside, Hazard had to blink. Autumn sunlight filled the space—he had a vague impression of pews painted farmhouse white, a long nave, and what he had mistaken for windows from the outside were, he realized now, French doors, standing open now to admit the soft cry of a warbler and the sweet smell of crushed acorns and goldenrod. None of that held his attention, however. His gaze was fixed on the far end of the nave, where his mother was standing.

“Please don’t be mad,” Somers said in a very small voice.

Hazard blinked again. Glennworth and Grace Elaine Somerset stood at the end of the nave on the opposite side of the aisle. Wesley stood there too, in a simple blue suit. He looked much better than he had when Hazard had seen him after being released from the county jail, but the lines of grief still marked his face even when he smiled at them.

“I kept trying to tell you I didn’t want a big wedding, and I knew you didn’t want a big wedding, and then the Keeper happened and you almost died and I was going crazy thinking about what I’d do if I lost you, and I realized next year was too far off. And today is the day you came back into my life two years ago, and I just thought it was right. It felt right.” Somers bit his lips and then blurted, “Well, say something.”

Hazard turned until he and Somers were face to face. He studied John-Henry Somerset for a moment and then he reached back and brushed down the stray clumps of hair.

“You want to kill me,” Somers said.

Hazard looked at his fiancé, who had changed into a Baby Shark t-shirt, who was wearing jeans and boat shoes, who wasn’t the boy Hazard had been simultaneously attracted to and terrified of. He was a different person. A better person. He was so very good.

“It’s ok,” Somers said thickly. “We can just head home. I told them you might not—”

“It’s perfect.”

Somers knuckled at his eyes for a moment. His voice was still thick when he said, “Yeah?”

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” Hazard bent and kissed him. “That’s the last one of those you’re going to get, though, unless we make some changes.”