16. Winter

Chapter 16

Winter

The Wedding Day- Christmas Eve

I smooth down the front of Dina’s dress, adjusting the delicate lace at her shoulders and trying to refocus her energy. "Dina, you’re going to be the most beautiful bride anyone’s ever seen," I say earnestly, hoping to steer her away from my cliffside misadventures with Orson. As much as I wanted to keep our snowy tryst between us, I was forced to confess to the wedding party when I was two hours late to the bachelorette party.

Dina’s eyes flick up to meet mine in the mirror, her mascara wand paused midair. "I know, I know. But come on, Winter, you can't just drop a bomb like getting stranded with Orson Frost and expect me not to be curious! Everyone's dying to know." She winks, but there's a hint of genuine concern beneath her playful tone.

I sigh softly, tucking a loose strand of her hair into the elaborate twist atop her head. "Honestly, Dina, it wasn’t that dramatic. We lost track of time talking and didn’t realize how much snow was falling outside." There's no need for graphic details—today isn’t about Orson or me.

Dina purses her lips but then nods, accepting my half-hearted explanation. “All right, but you’re telling me everything later. Including what it’s like kissing him after all these years."

I laugh, easing some of the tension knots in my chest. If Dina only knew, kissing may be the tamest thing we’ve done since arriving in Bixby. "Deal. But right now, it’s all about you."

Finally satisfied with my redirected attention, she turns to face me fully and clasps my hands. "Thank you, Winter.” Her gaze softens as she looks over my shoulder at her reflection. "Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” she whispers, suddenly vulnerable.

Dina's statement catches me off guard. I hadn’t expected such raw doubt so close to walking down the aisle. I squeeze her hands and muster all the certainty I’ve shrouded around my heartaches and past decisions. "Dina, love is a leap of faith, and Owen is the perfect landing spot. Besides, you’re knocked up, and your parents are Catholic." I try to lighten the moment with a joke. With minutes left before the processional, this isn’t a good time for heavy emotions. Ever since Orson walked back into my life, I’ve been overly sensitive about the topic of love.

Dina laughs out loud as she fights back tears of joy. “You always know just what to say.”

I push a smile past the tightness in my chest. “Let’s get this show on the road, Dina. You’re a stunning bride, and it’s my job to ensure you get down that aisle to your gorgeous groom.” Stepping back, I let my gaze sweep over her—she looks breathtaking.

Dina relaxes at that, her smile emerging as she grabs both of my hands in hers. “Thank you, Winter,” she says, squeezing tight enough to promise bruises. “But after all this—” She gestures to the church buzzing outside our little floral-scented sanctuary. “—you're telling me everything.”

The door bursts open then, and bridesmaids rush into the room in clouds of tulle and perfume—the distraction timed almost poetically. As they envelop Dina in a flurry of last-minute prep and giggles, I step back and let them swarm. I hope Owen knows he’s won the lottery.

Orson's hand rests lightly on my lower back, guiding me effortlessly across the dance floor. Around us, one song fades into another, and laughter blooms and withers, but all I can focus on are his warm eyes and a future I never thought would materialize.

“Can you believe it’s Christmas Eve, and I got the best present, hands down,” Orson declares with a broad smile and a kick in his step.

“I guess Santa decided you’ve been a good boy this year,” I tease, following his lead on the dance floor, a bit tipsy from too much champagne.

"I’ve been an exceptionally good boy, and Santa granted my fondest wish. Winnie is back in my arms, and next week, we’ll be home celebrating a new year and new start,” Orson whispers as we spin beneath the twinkling fairy lights strung high above the reception floor. They cast a soft glow that makes everyone and everything look slightly magical.

“Can you get used to New York? So much change overnight,” I prod, wanting to ensure he’s ready.

“New York with you sounds like a dream come true.” Orson dips me playfully and gently kisses my chin. “This is the best kind of change.”

“I enter the studio in February. I’m so nervous returning to jazz—it thrills and terrifies me in equal measure. What if everyone hates the transition?” I rest my cheek against Orson’s massive chest and listen to the beat of his heart. Treading this path with him gives me the confidence to see it through.

Orson squeezes my hand as if feeling the tremor of my doubts. "You’ll be spectacular," he says, confidence lacing his tone. "You have a voice that can touch souls, Winter. You’re going to be better than you’ve ever been."

“And what about us?” I whisper against his ear, daring to shape our dreams into words. “Are you sure we won’t drive one another crazy? We’ve never lived together, and it’s a big step.”

“I can’t wait. We are long overdue for this step, Winnie. It’s going to be the best thing we’ve ever done.” Orson spins me under his arm before bringing me back against him. “Think of it as a new adventure for both of us.”

“I want mornings at quirky coffee shops and evenings listening to old records,” I say, getting carried away by the vision.

Orson laughs softly. “And I’ll cook dinners that we’ll probably eat at midnight because we get too caught up making love or binging terrible reality shows.”

I quickly nod because it sounds perfect—the chaotic, beautiful life I've always dreamed about. The music slows down further, and other couples drift past us, caught in their little worlds.

“But let’s promise each other something,” Orson says seriously as the song nears its end.

“What’s that?”

“That no matter how busy or crazy life gets, we’ll always find time for nights like this… just dancing and being us. May we never take this second chance for granted.”

I melt a little because it's precisely what I need to hear. This time, I know we’ll get it right.