Zyan
"I can't believe Jessie's parents aren't here," Ava muttered. She'd been pacing back and forth for almost ten minutes and almost tripped over her dress repeatedly. "How can they do this to their own daughter? I mean, I know her mother is a despicable human being, but I thought at least her father would get up off his ass and show up to her goddamn wedding! Do they just not care?"
"Calm down, Ava," Zyan said. He tried to sound reassuring, but it didn't seem to be working. "I'm sure she's fine. You said it yourself: she didn't even expect them to show up! Her siblings are here, and so are most of her uncles, aunts, and cousins, plus two of your employees, plus Lucy, for some reason I cannot comprehend."
"They invited us to their weddings as well," Ava said.
"And the flowers look great, despite what everybody else had to say—"
"Pansies are pretty unusual for wedding flowers," Ava mumbled.
"They really are," Zyan stressed.
"But they've got these little grumpy faces—"
"Yeah, yeah, we've been over this." Zyan stepped closer and put a hand on Ava's shoulder to get her to look at him. "Look. The universe is clearly on your side today. The cake looks fantastic, the decorations for the party room you rented turned out exactly as we'd planned, the music system is all hooked up and ready to blast the playlist you two put together…as unfitting as it is for the occasion.
"Carol and her husband are here, and Lucy showed up with her new boyfriend, who seems like a decent guy. At least, according to your fiancée and Carter. And so far, none of the five babies present have cried or thrown up. Literally everything worked out in your favor. There are no disasters, no unfortunate weather, or unexpected occurrences. What more could you want?"
"Oh, I don't know…" Ava shook of Zyan's hand. "For Jessie's parents to show up at their own daughter's fucking wedding!"
Zyan sighed and stepped forward to wrap Ava into a hug. She sagged against him as she sighed in frustration. The combs in her hair dug into Zyan's chest. It hurt, but he only held her tighter.
Roughly two minutes passed as Ava's breathing calmed down before there was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" Ava called out and pulled out of Zyan's hold. Her hands flew up to pat along her done-up hair to check for loose pins and combs.
It was Carter who poked his head into the room, his messy hair gelled to look at least somewhat presentable.
"How are you holding up?" he asked. His voice was low, comforting, as he stepped into the room and closed the door.
Ava pinched and tugged at her dress, clearly a nervous tic, and took a few deep breaths. "I'm good. A little nervous. Quite angry at my bride's awful parents."
Carter's small smile looked rather fake. "I'm not gonna lie: Jess was disappointed, but she's with her siblings now, and they've cheered her up." His face softened. "She's really happy, Ava. She can't wait to see how beautiful you look today."
A grin broke out on Ava's face. It felt like the sun coming out after a rainy day. "I bet she looks gorgeous. God. I can't believe I get to marry her."
Carter gave her a fond look. "I'm sure she feels the same."
"Thank you, Carter. Seriously. And you too, Zyan."
"Should we go and search for your siblings as well?" Zyan asked.
"That'd be great, yeah. I think I need Sheila to talk some sense into me when I inevitably start freaking out again."
Zyan nodded. He dipped his head to press a kiss to Ava's forehead before he headed for the door, Carter on his heels. They'd barely closed the door behind them when Ava's siblings came rushing down the hallway.
"Is she in there?" Sheila asked. She sounded like she'd been running.
Zyan nodded. "She just asked for you."
Sheila's gaze zeroed in on the door. "I better go check on her, then." Despite her words, she threw Zyan another glance. "How's everything going? Are we still on track?"
"Everything's running smoothly," Zyan reassured her. "She's got nothing to worry about."
Sheila's shoulders drooped, as if a weight had been lifted off her. "All right. Perfect." She reached for the doorknob but paused before opening the door. "Thank you," she told Zyan. "Both of you." Her gaze flitted over to Carter.
"No problem." Carter inclined his head. "Thank you all for being here."
"We wouldn't miss it for the world." With that, Sheila opened the door, closely followed by Ava's brothers.
Zyan watched them disappear. A second later, loud, excited voices reached his ears. He smiled and glanced over at Carter, whose expression mirrored Zyan's.
With Ava now in the care of her three siblings, Zyan and Carter searched out an empty hallway to get some privacy. They leaned against the wall, shoulders pressed together, as they thumped their heads back against the wall and closed their eyes to take some deep breaths. Zyan felt a little freaked out by how in-sync they were, but he was too exhausted to think too hard about it.
Neither of them had gotten much sleep this week, with how involved they'd been in the wedding preparations. Both of them had been there every step of the way: Zyan with cool authority and several folders filled with organized notes, and Carter with an excitement almost as strong as that of the happy couple. Neither of them had ever planned a wedding that wasn't their own, and new experiences were rare for people their age, so they'd jumped at the chance.
Zyan turned to look at Carter, who stood so close Zyan could've counted his individual lashes.
"How are you feeling?" Carter asked. He must have sensed Zyan looking.
"I'm good. Happy for them. And tired. Ugh…so…very…tired." Zyan sunk further against Carter's side, his head drooping onto Carter's shoulder. He could feel the rumble of Carter's huffed laugh against his temple.
"Me too."
"You know what?" Zyan mumbled.
"Hm?"
"I almost forgot how hot you look in a suit."
Carter burst into laughter. Zyan jerked back for the sake of his eardrums.
"You're looking pretty hot yourself there, Zavala."
"Yeah?"
"Hell yeah."
"Then I'm glad I can still keep up with you."
"As if that had ever been a struggle."
"Come here, you dork." Zyan grabbed hold of Carter's tie and pulled him in.