Chapter 65: The Wedding Day - Part 1
Ben woke at 6 AM in the shop's cramped office to three texts.
Lip: Don't panic. Everything's ready.
Fiona: Can't believe today's the day.
V: IF YOU'RE LATE I WILL MURDER YOU.
He texted back confirmations, showered in the shop's industrial bathroom, and stared at his suit hanging on the back of the door. Simple black, nothing fancy. The same suit he'd worn to court hearings and important meetings. But today it meant something different.
Today he was getting married.
By 9 AM, the male contingent had assembled at the shop.
Lip arrived with coffee and bagels. Kevin showed up with a flask "for nerves." Carl brought shoe polish because he'd noticed Ben's shoes had a scuff. Ian confirmed the music system was functional and backed up on three devices. Liam toddled in with a drawing—stick figures labeled "Ben" and "Fee-na" and "famly" with the L and I reversed.
"This is beautiful, buddy," Ben said, accepting the crayon artwork. "Can I keep it?"
Liam nodded seriously. "Marry today."
"That's right. Marry today."
"Love Fee-na."
"I do love Fiona. Very much."
Marcus and Tommy appeared briefly to wish Ben well before heading to handle any shop emergencies. Mickey showed up with Ian, uncomfortable in dress clothes but present.
"You clean up," Ben observed.
"Fuck off. This is for Ian." But Mickey's tone was affectionate. "Congratulations on the ball and chain."
"Thanks?"
"He means well," Ian translated. "In his way."
By noon, Ben was dressed. The suit fit well—tailored months ago during engagement planning. Lip helped with the tie, fussing over it until the knot sat perfectly.
"You look good," Lip said. "Respectable. Like a real adult."
"I am a real adult."
"Yeah, but now you look like one." Lip stepped back, assessed his work. "Fiona's lucky."
"I'm lucky."
"Both things can be true." Lip pulled out a flask, took a sip, offered it to Ben. "To luck continuing."
Ben drank. The whiskey burned pleasantly. "Thanks for being here. For being best man. For being family."
"Where else would I be?" Lip pocketed the flask. "You saved us, Ben. All of us. This wedding is celebration of that as much as your relationship with Fiona."
"I didn't save anyone. Just helped when I could."
"That's what saving is. Helping when you can, consistently, until things get better." Lip glanced at his watch. "We should head over. Ceremony starts in three hours."
Fiona
Fiona woke at V's house to champagne and pancakes.
"Wedding breakfast!" V announced, bursting into the guest room with a tray. "Champagne because celebration, pancakes because you need to eat before wearing a corset."
"The dress doesn't have a corset."
"Fine, before wearing a dress. Same principle." V set down the tray. "How're you feeling?"
"Terrified. Excited. Ready. All of it."
"Perfect emotions for wedding day." V sat on the bed's edge. "Today you marry Ben. Today you become Mrs. Fisher. Today forever officially starts."
"Mrs. Fisher sounds weird."
"You'll get used to it." V sipped champagne. "Fiona Fisher. Has a nice ring."
Debbie appeared in the doorway wearing her bridesmaid dress—simple pink that V had helped her pick out. "You're getting married today."
"I am."
"I'm so happy for you." Debbie climbed onto the bed, carefully avoiding wrinkling her dress. "Ben's the best thing that happened to this family. You choosing him is the smartest decision you ever made."
"Thanks, Debs." Fiona pulled her sister close. "Thanks for protecting Liam back in June. For being so brave. For being part of why Ben and I are getting married instead of me being in prison."
"I just did what Ben taught me."
"Which saved everything. You're a hero."
They ate breakfast together—Fiona, V, and Debbie. Female bonding before the chaos of preparation. The champagne made everything feel fuzzy and warm, anticipation building with each passing minute.
By 1 PM, hair and makeup were underway.
V wielded curling iron and makeup brushes with surprising skill learned from YouTube tutorials. Fiona sat still while V transformed her from "regular Fiona" into "wedding Fiona."
"Something old?" V asked, checking off the traditional list.
"Grammy's necklace." Fiona touched the small pendant—Grammy's only piece of jewelry, passed down when she died. "She'd want to be part of this."
"Something new?"
"The dress. Thrift store, but new to me."
"Something borrowed?"
"Your shoes." Fiona pointed at the heels V had lent her. "Because mine are garbage."
"Something blue?"
Debbie produced a blue garter with a grin. "I made it. Technically something blue and something homemade."
"Perfect." V adjusted Fiona's hair. "There. Look."
Fiona turned to the mirror and didn't recognize herself.
The dress fit perfectly—simple white with lace sleeves, thrift store find that looked custom made. Hair was curled and pinned elegantly. Makeup was subtle but transformative. Grammy's necklace caught light. She looked like a bride. Like someone who deserved happiness.
"Oh my god," Debbie whispered. "You're beautiful."
"I'm okay," Fiona said automatically.
"You're beautiful," V insisted. "Ben's going to lose his mind."
Tears threatened. Fiona blinked them back, not wanting to ruin V's makeup work. "I can't believe this is real. That I'm actually marrying him."
"Believe it. You chose him, he chose you, and today makes it official." V was crying now too, mascara running. "Dammit, I told myself I wouldn't cry before the ceremony."
They all cried anyway. Happy tears, grateful tears, emotional tears that came from surviving chaos to reach this moment.
At 2:30 PM, they headed to the Gallagher house.
Ben
The backyard was perfect.
Ben stood near the arbor Carl had built, looking at rows of borrowed chairs filled with neighbors and friends. Debbie's decorations transformed the space from cluttered yard into wedding venue—paper flowers and banners and string lights creating atmosphere on zero budget.
The weather had cooperated. August sun warmed without scorching. Slight breeze kept things comfortable. Even the cicadas seemed respectfully quiet.
"Guests are seated," Kevin reported. He'd taken on unofficial coordinator role, making sure everything ran smoothly. "Fiona's car just pulled up. Five minutes."
Ben's stomach flipped. In five minutes she'd walk down this makeshift aisle. In ten minutes they'd be married.
Two years ago I transmigrated into chaos with nothing. Now I'm standing in a backyard I helped transform, marrying a woman I chose to protect and ended up loving, surrounded by family I built through preparation and care.
This is real. This is mine. This is forever starting.
Lip appeared beside him, straightening his own tie. "You ready?"
"Yeah. More than ready."
"Good." Lip checked his watch. "Because here we go."
Music started—Ian's playlist, carefully curated for this exact moment. A local judge stood at the arbor, friend of Kevin's who'd agreed to officiate. Guests turned to watch the processional.
First came Debbie, flower girl with a basket of petals she scattered carefully. Then Liam, ring bearer, holding a pillow with fake rings (V had the real ones, trusting a three-year-old with gold was optimistic even by South Side standards). Then Carl, walking alone, Ian's plus-one role. Then Ian escorting V, maid of honor in a simple dress.
Then the music shifted.
Frank appeared at the top of the aisle with Fiona on his arm.
Ben's breath stopped.
She was radiant. Simple white dress, Grammy's necklace, flowers in her hair. Beautiful in ways that transcended physical appearance—she glowed with happiness, with certainty, with choice. She'd chosen this. Chosen him. Chosen forever consciously.
They walked slowly down the aisle. Frank—surprisingly sober, surprisingly present—had tears in his eyes. He whispered something to Fiona that made her smile. Then they reached the arbor.
"Who gives this woman to be married?" the judge asked.
"I do," Frank said. His voice cracked. "Her mother would've been so proud."
He placed Fiona's hand in Ben's and stepped back. Ben held her hands, looking at her face, seeing everything—the woman who'd survived chaos, who'd chosen stability, who'd fought through cocaine arrest and house arrest to reach this moment.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back.
"Ready?"
"So ready."
The judge began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."
And forever officially started.
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