ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡɴ? | George Clarke ✩

38; the big day

The sun was bright, casting a golden hue over the charming countryside venue where George and Taya's wedding was about to unfold. The stone walls of the old building were decorated with cascading ivy, fairy lights twinkling like stars in the early afternoon light. The air was thick with excitement and the faint scent of lavender and roses, a perfect day for a wedding. It had been six months since George proposed to Taya in the wild beauty of Cornwall, and today, the two of them would stand before friends and family, pledging their love to one another.

Inside a quiet room just off the main hall, Taya sat in front of a mirror, her golden-brown hair being styled into soft waves by a team of professionals. Her face, framed by delicate tendrils of hair, was the picture of calm serenity. She looked stunning, but there was a depth of emotion swirling beneath her composed exterior. Her eyes, a warm shade of brown, flicked toward her closest friend, Becky, who sat beside her on the plush armchair.

Becky, with her mischievous grin and comforting presence, was the type of friend who always knew what to say. Today, though, she simply held Taya's hand in silence, letting her friend process the weight of the day.

"Can you believe it's finally here?" Becky asked, her voice soft but full of genuine warmth.

Taya smiled faintly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "It feels surreal," she whispered, "but at the same time, it feels like we've been waiting for this forever."

Becky nodded. "It's so perfect. George is a great guy. You two were meant to be."

Taya's eyes drifted toward the window for a moment, and the smile faltered just slightly. She had planned every detail of this day, from the wildflower bouquets to the playlist that would play while she walked down the aisle, but there was one thing that could never be planned for, one loss she couldn't escape.

"Do you think Kara would've approved of my dress?" Taya asked quietly, her voice thick with emotion.

Becky's heart tightened. Kara had been like a sister to both of them. It was still hard to believe that she was gone. Nearly a year had passed since, but the ache had never quite gone away. Today, of all days, it was especially difficult.

"I know she would've loved it," Becky replied, her voice steady and full of affection. "She'd be right here, making fun of you for how beautiful you look."

Taya chuckled through the tears that threatened to spill. "She'd probably make fun of me for crying, too."

Becky squeezed her hand. "She'd have had us all laughing, as always. I miss her, too."

The room fell silent for a moment, but there was no need for words. Both women felt Kara's presence in their hearts, the unspoken bond between them all.

"Are you ready for this?" Becky asked after a pause, her voice shifting to something lighter, more playful. "You're about to be Mrs. Taya Clarke"

Taya wiped her eyes and grinned, a hint of excitement breaking through her bittersweet emotions. "I've been ready for this my whole life."

Outside, the guests had gathered in the open courtyard, the sound of soft chatter and clinking glasses mingling with the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Chris, George's best man, stood nervously by the altar, his eyes scanning the crowd, his mind buzzing with the speech he had carefully written for the reception. He had promised George he'd keep it light, humorous, and heartfelt, but as he fiddled with his collar, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. This was his best mate, the guy who'd been through thick and thin with him, the one person who had never let him down.

George stood at the altar, his hands resting on the edge of the podium, his jaw clenched in excitement. He looked every bit the part of a man about to marry the woman he loved. But his gaze kept flickering toward the back, waiting for that moment when he would see Taya in her dress, walking down the aisle toward him.