I thought the worst thing a man could do to me was cheat. Then I married his best friend….

The Proposal and the Wedding

Two years later, he proposed.

It was not some huge spectacle, no flash mob, no fireworks.

We were hiking a trail outside the city, both of us sweaty and out of breath, sitting on a rock while the sunset tried really hard to be cheesy and romantic.

Jake kept fidgeting with his backpack strap, and I thought he had to pee or something.

Then he dropped to one knee in the dirt.

I remember saying, “What are you doing? You’re going to ruin your jeans,” because my brain short-circuited.

He laughed, pulled a tiny box from his pocket, and his hands were shaking so badly the ring almost fell into the dust.

“Harper,” he said, voice cracking, “I know this is complicated, and I know I’m not perfect, but I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel safe instead of broken.”

I said yes before he even finished, because of course, I did.

Marrying your ex’s best friend is its own special kind of mental gymnastics.

I knew there would be opinions.

But at the end of the day, I kept coming back to this simple truth: that with Jake, my life finally felt peaceful.

Our wedding was small. String lights and wildflowers and my cousin’s Spotify playlist.

My mom cried when she saw me in the dress; my dad pretended he wasn’t crying and failed.

Jake stood at the end of the aisle in a navy suit, staring at me like he couldn’t believe I was real.

Ryan was not invited, obviously.

I didn’t spend even a second wondering what he would think, and that felt like its own kind of miracle.

The ceremony was a blur of vows and laughter and terrible dancing.

I remember one moment clearly, though.

During the reception, I found Jake outside behind the venue, leaning against the wall, breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“Hey, husband,” I teased, walking up to him.

He straightened so fast he almost knocked his head on the brick.

“Sorry,” he said, forcing a smile, “just needed a second to breathe.”

I thought he was overwhelmed, normal wedding stuff.

I kissed his cheek and dragged him back to the dance floor, not noticing how cold his hands were.

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