It’s Mum and Max’s wedding day.

Two months after Max’s birthday and a week after my finals and I’m back home, currently being preened and primped beyond recognition ready to perform my duty as Mum’s Maid of Honour.

The wedding takes place in a small country hotel in the Brecon Beacons, and both the sunshine and the stunning scenery make for an utterly perfect day.

The ceremony goes without a hitch, and I manage to keep my eyes locked on the happy couple and not on Galen as he performed his duties as best man.

Originally, Rhys and Galen were to give Mum away, but that left Max without his wingman, and he didn’t want to ask any of his friends because they wanted this to be a family affair. So, Gal took up the role with pride, and from the small glimpses of him I’ve allowed myself, he looks beyond handsome in his three-piece suit that matches the ones worn by Max and Rhys—the only difference, they each wear a different shade of green tie. Mum wanted green everywhere because to her it represented Max while it did the same for me, but for his son. Galen’s tie only serves to make his eyes pop, and looking at him for too long is like trying to stare at the sun on a summer’s day—blinding.

Max and Mum exchange vows they wrote themselves, and there isn’t a dry eye in the house when they both touch on Max’s previous health struggles.

After what feels like thousands of wedding photos, we all head inside for the wedding breakfast. The phrase has always sounded a little strange to me, considering we are sitting down to eat at three in the afternoon. When I’d said this to Mum a few weeks ago, she explained that it was a tradition that may sound old-fashioned, but that it’s referred to as ‘breakfast’—no matter the time of day it’s served—because the married couple are starting a new day together.

“Traditionally, couples would fast from the night before and only break it once they’d spoken their vows. It was a way of keeping their love pure for each other,” she’d explained while we picked out her dress.

Max and Mum sit at the head of the top table, an arch of sparkling fairy lights framing them, reminding me so much of Mum’s first birthday after she left.

Today feels like everything has come full circle, and in a beautiful gesture, they even invited Dad and Kate to attend, and they accepted.

I never would’ve thought we’d all be here like this right now.

It just goes to show that time can heal all wounds if you let it.

It’s a shame it doesn’t do the same for broken hearts.

Galen and I do a good job of avoiding each other and being separated by Mum and Max helps. Galen sits next to his Dad, and I’m sandwiched between Mum and Rhys.

The day flashes by in blur of congratulations, good food and wine, and an abundance of love.

I’m talking to an elderly aunt of Max’s when I hear the first notes of an acoustic guitar being tuned and a hush falls over the guests.

When I turn towards the sound, I see Galen, set up on a makeshift stage, guitar in hand, and a huge smile aimed directly at the happy couple.

“This one is for my folks,” he says with a voice thick with emotion. “You should’ve done this years ago.”

“Hear hear,” Rhys yells from somewhere in the room and taps at his glass with a spoon, everyone else quickly following suit until a bell-like echo fills the air.

When the noise dies down, Galen tilts his head and begins playing an amazing, acoustic version of Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Stay Together.

Max takes Mum’s hand and leads her to the small dance floor, kissing her knuckles once softly, before pulling her into his arms for their first dance.

It’s perfect.

So perfect it hurts. But in a good way.

“He’s bloody good, isn’t he?” My Dad whispers in my ear as he comes up behind me.

“Yeah,” I say softly, my eyes on the boy with his eyes locked on the happy couple, yet I know he is as aware of where I am in the room, as I am of him.

“I’ve had to stop Kate fangirling all over him. I swear she’s Definition’s biggest fan.”

I snort and wrap my arm around Dad’s middle. “I think Kate is your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, his eyes searching out his wife and finding her immediately. “And I’m hers.”

“I’m happy for you Dad. I’m happy for Mum too. Who’d have thought it would end like this,” I say wistfully.

He hugs me tighter and places a kiss on the top of my head.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Alexis. He seemed a nice bloke.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Don’t give up on love, Flower. You’ll know everything was worthwhile when you find the one you’re meant to spend your life with.”

I don’t reply because I can’t. I can’t tell him that I already found that elusive one. That I found him and we could never be.

Rhys finds us then, wrapping his arms enthusiastically around us both.

“Hey, family,” he says, his eyes bright, his grin brighter. “What a day, hey? It’s about time they got their act together.”

We all agree and stand and watch Max and Mum dance until their song ends.

Bouncing excitedly on his feet, Rhys gives us a mischievous smile before announcing, “I’m going to go and show Galen what a real singer sounds like.”

Then he’s off across the room, grabbing a chair on his way, and dropping it next to Galen. Rhys whispers in his ear, and both men burst into a fit of raucous laughter. When Rhys grabs the microphone and taps the end, he announces through his chuckles, “This one is dedicated to our Mum.”

I look over to the dance floor and see Mum put her hand on her heart, right before they launch headfirst into an upbeat, acoustic version of Golddigga by Kanye West.

Mum’s jaw drops for only a beat before she throws her head back and laughs, and everyone who was sat down during the first dance jumps to their feet to clap and join in.

Rhys gives his all to the song, and he’s bloody awful, but that only makes it better, and by the time their performance ends the entire wedding party is laughing and applauding.

Galen slings his guitar behind his back, high-fives Rhys, and then drags him into a back-slapping hug. When they pull apart, I watch as Gal nods to his guitar and the hallway that leads to the main part of the hotel, indicating he’s going to put the instrument away.

A groan of disappointment echoes around the room, and he looks over the assembled crowd of family and friends, smiles almost shyly, and takes a bow before leaving.

Rhys is still on the stage minutes later, still bowing, still basking in his fame, until Erin goes up and drags him away laughing.

“I’m going to go and congratulate the big kid,” I say to Dad, nodding towards where Rhys and Erin sit at the bar.

I push up to my tiptoes, kiss my Dad on the cheek and make my way through the tables where everyone is still laughing and chatting about that last performance.

“Hey, superstar,” I say, throwing my arms around Rhys from behind. “Are you trying to get Gal to give you a job with the band?”

“He wishes he could have me,” he declares with a laugh, and then asks, “What are you drinking, Sis?”

I give him my drink order and Erin excuses herself to go and freshen up. Rhys and I sit side by side on barstools sipping away before he turns to face the room, resting his elbows on the bar behind him.

“Have you and Gal made up yet?” he asks, erasing my small smile as I sip my gin and tonic.

“W—what? We haven’t fallen out,” I answer quickly, too quickly.

Rhys side-eyes me, arching an eyebrow in disbelief. “Yeah, that answer might fly with someone else, but not me. Neither of you has spoken to each other today, in fact, you rarely ever talk anymore at all. So, what gives?”

I shift awkwardly on my stool. “I think you’re seeing something and nothing. It’s been such a busy weekend and today is—”

“I’m not just talking about this weekend and today. You guys used to be thick as thieves. In fact, when we were younger I sometimes felt left out, but I get why. I took longer to adjust to stuff than you did. But you guys were always more like best friends than siblings, so, I’ll ask again, what happened to change that?”

I don’t have a suitable answer for him, so instead of being deceitful, I remain silent.

He sighs and twists back around to pick up his drink. He looks down into the amber liquid and swirls it around in the glass. As if confessing one of his own sins, he lowers his voice and murmurs, “There was a time I even thought that you guys were—” He stops, not finishing his sentence and I stupidly push him, wanting to know if he ever saw what Galen and I were to each other.

“Were what?”

“More,” he says simply. “More than friends.”

My fingers tremble as I wipe condensation from my glass.

“And if we were, what then? What would you say and feel about that?”

He slugs back his drink before turning to face me.

“Why does it matter? Do you need my validation to say what your heart feels is okay?”

I blink, my eyes locked on my drink. If I look at him, he’ll see everything.

“I wouldn’t care, Fflur,” he says and places his hand on mine to still my shaking fingers. “Our family isn’t average. There are no two-point-four kids, a dog and a white picket fence. So why should anything that you guys felt for each other be classed as average either?”

What we had was never average.

My throat constricts, and I close my eyes briefly to breathe through all the emotions flooding my system. Rhys tightens his hold and then links our fingers.

“What you fail to see, what both of you fail to see, is how you guys are with each other doesn’t just affect you. It affects us all.”

He stands before leaning over to kiss the side of my brow.

“Think about that. Because when you come from a family like ours, why would you think any one of us would judge you for having something beyond average? How you and Gal were together could never ever be classed as anything other than extraordinary. And there is nothing wrong with that.”