Page 2 of The Long Way Home
“They’ll love you.” She tilts her head, studying me. “Besides, it’s not about you. It’s about Anderson and Margo. All you have to do is stand up there, be your charming, slightly awkward self, and gush about how perfect they are together.”
“Slightly awkward?” I give her a look.
“Okay, extremely awkward.” Her grin widens. “But endearing. It works for you.”
I groan, tugging at the hem of my dress. “What if I forget my lines?”
“Then you wing it. You’re Rachel. You never stop talking—you’ll be fine.”
I press my lips together, both offended and… not wrong.
The reception buzzes around me. Everyone looks so happy. The twinkle lights strung across the rooftop patio cast a golden glow over the crowd. The view beyond the glass railing stretches wide as Atlanta’s skyline cuts across the horizon in bold, gleaming lines, each building reflecting the sun. Being up here feels like a moment suspended in time. One I do not want to forget. Your best friend only gets married once. Well, I guess technically for Margo, twice.
Margo, my… I guess if you go by the textbook definition, she is my ex–sister-in-law, but she is also my longtime best friend. Either way, she got married today. Margo met my brother in college, through me, actually, and they were soulmates. But finding your soulmate doesn’t guarantee forever. They learned that the hard way.
Four years ago is when I think everything changed for me. There was my life before Josh, and my life after Josh. Every day since, I’ve felt his absence, missed him, carried him quietly in the spaces between thought and breath. I think Margo carries the same weight.
Still, she claws her way through grief, some days more than others, and somehow, she found another soulmate. Anderson.She is lucky enough to have two. And honestly, I wouldn’t want her with anyone else… except my brother, of course. But Anderson loves her with a steady certainty that is impossible to ignore.
Slone squeezes my hand, pulling me from my thoughts. “Hey. You’ve got this. Just look at Margo when you talk. Block everyone else out. This is her night, and she asked you to stand up there because she trusts you with it. Because she loves you.”
I glance across the room at Margo, glowing in her wedding dress beside Anderson, the two of them lost in their own little universe. My chest tightens with affection.
“She does look happy,” I murmur.
Margo looks stunning, as always. Her brown-blonde hair twists into an elaborate updo, her satin gown glows under the lights, hugging her in all the right places. Anderson seems to agree; his eyes and hands haven’t left her since she walked down that aisle.
“She looks deliriously in love,” Slone corrects. “Now go make her cry in a good way.”
Before I can argue, the clinking of silverware against glass signals it is my turn. The microphone waits, an unassuming little thing perched on its stand.
“Oh god,” I mutter. “This is happening.”
“You’re gonna kill it.” Slone grins, raising her glass in salute. “Go, Maid of Honor.”
I push myself up, legs wobbly, the room suddenly stretching like a stage I never asked to walk across. My heels click against the floor as I reach the front, every head turning toward me. Heat floods my cheeks.
The microphone squeals once before settling. I grip it with both hands, my voice shaky at first.
“Hi, everyone. I’m Rachel, Margo’s Maid of Honor. I’m going to keep this speech short because I’m not a fan of crying inpublic. And if I start talking about all the ways I love Margo… well, crying in public will be inevitable.”
A ripple of polite laughter floats through the crowd, allowing my shoulders to relax.
“Before Margo, I had never had a sister. So, I had no idea what it was like to have someone steal your clothes or your makeup, or yell at you one minute and then act like nothing changed the next. I didn’t understand what it meant when girls talked about having someone in their corner, no matter what. Up until that point, I only ever heard about the magic of sisterhood. But then one day, I met Margo and all of that changed.”
I pause, catching Margo’s eyes across the room. Her smile is already watery, which makes my throat constrict.
“Margo has been through more than most people should ever have to face. And the thing about Margo is she doesn’t just survive things—sherefusesto let them steal her joy. She even found a way to laugh again, when I wasn’t sure any of us ever could.”
There is a small hitch in my voice. I swallow, pretending it’s just nerves. I slip the familiar smile onto my face. It is practically muscle memory by now. “She finds light where it shouldn’t exist. She finds laughter in the middle of heartbreak. She sits with you in the dark, but she’ll also make sure you don’t stay there too long, usually by forcing you to watch bad rom-coms or bribing you with handfuls of candy.”
A few chuckles ripple through the tables.
“That’s who Margo is. She is magic. She takes pain and turns it into strength. She loves harder, not less, after loss. She proves every single day that love is worth choosing again.”
I pause, swallowing against the lump in my throat, then add, “And let’s be honest, she’s also the only person I know who could get away with running late to literally everything and stillhave me waiting for her without complaint. Well, mostly without complaint.”
Laughter breaks the heaviness, and I smile, steady now.
