The ceremony had ended, and the reception sparkled with laughter, fairy lights, and the soft buzz of music. You stood near the edge of the dance floor, sipping champagne, when a familiar voice rumbled behind you.

“You know,” Emmett said, sliding up beside you, “this whole wedding thing? Kinda makes you think.”

You glanced at him, amused. “Think about what?”

He grinned, eyes gleaming. “How good we’d look up there one day. You in white, me trying not to rip my tux when I carry you out.”

You laughed, half-expecting the teasing. “At someone else’s wedding, really?”

“What can I say? Love’s in the air,” he said, offering his hand just as a slow song began. “Dance with me. Consider it rehearsal.”

You rolled your eyes, but your hand found his easily. In his arms, surrounded by twinkling lights and soft music, the idea didn’t sound so ridiculous.

Maybe he was half-joking. But maybe not.