The reception area that Harlan had created was nothing short of magical. String lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a warm glow over the small dance floor he'd built from reclaimed wood. A simple table held the cake Leo had made that morning—three layers of vanilla sponge with fresh strawberries and cream, topped with the wooden figures Harlan had carved. It wasn't elaborate, but it was perfect, made with love and decorated with flowers from their own garden. Leo stood at the edge of the dance floor, still holding Silas's hand, marveling at how different this felt from any celebration he'd ever attended. There was no pretense here, no performance, no careful choreography designed to impress. This was pure joy, unfiltered and authentic, shared among people who had earned the right to witness it. "So," Reynolds said, appearing beside them with his camera in hand, "are you going to have a first dance, or are we jumping straight to the cake cutting?" Leo looked at Silas, suddenl
Last Updated : 2025-09-17 Read more