Chapter 3

The church was a vision, holy and blinding in its splendor. Rows of pews lined with fresh white lilies and ivy, the air thick with the sweet scent of roses and incense. Sunlight poured through the stained glass windows in a kaleidoscope of color, painting the marble floors with shades of gold and crimson. Every seat was filled with expectant faces, all turned toward the altar where the ceremony had just concluded.

Julian sat rigid in the front pew, jaw clenched so tight he could hear the grind of his own molars. He looked every inch the part of dutiful son in his tailored tuxedo, but his fingers gripped the edges of the seat like he was ready to bolt. On the altar, his mother stood beside Tom, her face lit with joy that felt almost blasphemous in this sacred place. Tom looked equally radiant, clasping her hands in his with a reverence Julian found both touching and deeply suspicious.

It was not the wedding that offended Julian. He had accepted long ago that his mother deserved happiness. It was the man she chose. Tom was too calm, too composed. The kind of man who ironed his socks and probably had a will prepared by age twenty-five. And worse, Tom came with baggage. Six feet of smug, sculpted, designer-clad baggage named Alexander.

Julian could feel him now, sitting just behind him. He could practically hear the smirk on Alexander's face. That infuriating, perfect face. Julian resisted the urge to turn and glare. He had promised his mother he would behave. He had also promised not to get drunk before the reception, not to call Alexander the Antichrist, and not to fake an allergic reaction to escape.

The priest’s voice echoed through the church as he declared them husband and wife. Applause followed. Julian clapped half-heartedly, his hands barely making a sound.

The newlyweds turned to face the crowd, beaming. Tom’s hand settled on his mother’s waist with the casual intimacy of a man completely at home in his new role. Julian’s stomach churned.

And then it was time. The procession began down the aisle. His mother and Tom led the way, followed by bridesmaids, groomsmen, flower girls, and various relatives Julian had only met once but were now apparently family. Julian stood stiffly when it was his turn, feeling Alexander’s presence beside him like static electricity.

"Try not to look like you're going to murder someone," Alexander whispered without looking at him.

Julian didn't respond. He walked forward, eyes straight ahead, pulse pounding. The church doors opened, spilling sunlight into the sacred gloom. Outside, the bells rang in celebration.

The reception hall was a transformation. Where the church was solemn and reverent, the hall was alive with decadence. White linens covered the tables like snowfall. Crystal chandeliers glittered above like stars brought down to earth. Candles flickered in tall vases, their flames dancing in time with the soft music of a string quartet playing in the corner. Every surface was draped in flowers, pale pinks and creams and bursts of green. It was beautiful. It was perfect.

Julian hated it.

He sat at the head table, staring at his plate as though it were a personal insult. The tuxedo itched at his neck. The collar was too tight. The whole evening was too tight. Across the table, Alexander lounged with infuriating grace, sipping wine and looking as though he had just stepped off the pages of an exclusive magazine. He had his legs crossed, his posture impeccable. He was everything Julian was not, and he seemed to delight in reminding him of it.

Julian sipped his water dramatically. He refused to drink tonight. Not because he didn’t want to, but because if he did, he might end up giving a speech that would become legend for all the wrong reasons.

Then came the emcee.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man called cheerfully from the stage, tapping a spoon against his glass. “It’s time for a few words from the family. Let’s begin with the bride’s son, Julian!”

The crowd clapped politely. Julian froze. His eyes went wide.

“No,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yes,” his mother said sweetly, her eyes cutting sideways toward him with that unmistakable look, "Move. Now."

Julian stood like a man being marched to the gallows, each step heavier than the last. The applause continued, oblivious and expectant, as if they hadn’t just witnessed him lose an argument with his tie ten minutes ago. When he reached the microphone, he gripped the stand like it might keep him upright, teetering between dignity and disaster, every inch of him broadcasting the quiet panic of someone about to dive off an emotional cliff.

He looked out at the crowd, at his mother’s teary eyes, at Tom’s infuriatingly calm face, at Alexander, the human embodiment of a punchable magazine cover, and he sighed.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here,” he said. “Not really. Emotionally, I mean. Physically I was bribed, blackmailed, and maybe lightly threatened. But spiritually? I was curled up in bed, watching reruns and pretending this wedding was happening in a different universe.”

Laughter. Good. That bought him five seconds of courage.

“When my mom told me she was getting remarried, I thought, ‘Great. She deserves that.’ And then she said the name. Tom. And I said, ‘You mean Alexander’s dad, right? My high school nemesis? That Tom?’”

He turned toward Tom, who gave a helpless shrug. That made it worse.

“I thought maybe she was joking, or cursed, or lost in some elaborate revenge fantasy. Because how else do you explain the man responsible for him”—he pointed at Alexander—“becoming my stepfather?”

The laughter came easy now, but the weight in his chest hadn’t budged.

“But really, it wasn’t just about the name, or the suits, or the fact that Tom still says ‘sport’ like it’s 1954. It was what it meant. It meant there was no going back. It meant she was moving on. That we had to move on.”

Julian swallowed hard.

“I spent a lot of time pretending I wasn’t scared. That I didn’t feel like I was being erased. That there wasn’t this quiet, ugly part of me whispering, ‘He’s here to replace you.’ And if I’m honest, if I strip back the sarcasm and the jokes, I was terrified.”

The room fell still.

“But then I watched. I watched him hold her hand. I watched him carry her bad days without making them about himself. I watched him sit through my breakdowns, my tantrums, my death glares across dinner. And he didn’t flinch. Not once.”

He looked at Tom again, this time without resentment. Just truth.

“You weren’t trying to replace anyone. You were just showing up. Every day. Every laugh. Every quiet moment. And somewhere in the chaos, I realized you weren’t stealing something. You were building something. With her. With us.”

He raised his glass. “So here’s to that. To unexpected beginnings. To men who love softly and don’t back down. And to my mother, for loving again, fiercely, unapologetically, even when her son is a walking fire hazard.”

He gave a crooked smile. “To Tom. For not being what I feared, but being something better.”

The crowd rose with him, glasses raised, eyes glistening.

Julian sat down, lighter than before, or at least pretending to be.

Alexander leaned in, grinning. “You almost made me cry.”

Julian didn’t look at him. “Good. Maybe you’ll finally feel something other than smug.”

Alexander’s smile didn’t falter. “You really should get that jealousy checked. It’s aging you.”

Julian turned to him slowly. “And you really should get a soul. But I hear those are hard to come by when you’re born in a mirror.”

Across the table, his mother exhaled and whispered with a smile, “I love you, Julian.”

Julian looked at her, just for a moment. His smile was faint, pained, like it cost him something to wear it but he gave it to her anyway. Then he looked away.

He sipped his water and stared at the glass like it had wronged him. Deep down, nothing felt lighter. He’d said the words, played the part, and kept himself together for her. He could’ve ruined the wedding, but he didn’t.

He still thought Tom was trying to take his place.

And Alexander? He was still the worst.

Especially now that he was smirking like the villain in a movie Julian wasn’t done starring in.

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