She stood up taking in the scene in front of her. Taylor spoke with a proud voice repeating stories of their past and ending her short speech with a quote from another luminous day all those years ago.
"Amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore," she stated from the second time in her life, "… I hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting, cheers to bride and groom on the most memorable day of their new life together."
She wiped a single tear from her eyes as the wedding party clink their glasses together. Taylor had spent the last year trying to put into words what it meant to be here today at the wedding of her friends Summer Roberts and Seth Cohen.
Her midnight blue dress was cling to her tiny frame as she took her seat next to the bride. She looked over at her friend with a smile.
"Sum, I hope that was ok," she whispered taking a drink from her water glass.
"Taylor, it was perfect, Seth and I are very blessed to have you here," she said coming in for a hug.
As Summer pulled away from her, she could hear a clink of a wine glass. She looked over to see Ryan Atwood standing up.
It had been a year since they had reunited. He was her favorite sweatshirt because Ryan Atwood always fit, was always soft and never cared if there were cuts because he would help her sew them. They had become what they once were all those years ago. Only this time he was there to pick her up when she fell. She would not be running away ever again because he wouldn't let her go. They lived together in a small house a mile from the Cohen's house in Berkeley. Ryan spent his days building homes for the less fortunate while Taylor counseled abused women. With the help of her friends and the Cohen's she had taken her life back, by seeking the support she now handed out.
She waited as Ryan hugged his brother before clearing his throat before he began to speak.
"I am not a man of many words, that has been my brother's place for years so today I raise my glass to the happy couple, may your laughter never end, the rage blackouts be very rarely and your lives together be filled with every opportunity for greatness that can only happen when you are together," he raised his glass into the air before speaking again.
"Here's to Spiderman kisses, Kissing Cart confessions and loving banter for the rest of your lives, cheers."
Taylor watched as Ryan sat back down. He looked so handsome in his suite and tie.
Taylor stood up making her way to his side as the DJ started to play her favorite song, Seabreeze.
"May I have this dance?" she whispered into his ear as his eyes met hers.
"As long as you take off those heels," he said looking down at his own feet.
"Ry, your still pouting about Summer making all the men go barefoot," she said slipping off her heels.
"If my feet are dirty, you my dear will have dirty feet as well," he said grabbing her by the hand as he led her to the dance floor.
"Ryan Atwood, I do declare that is the most romantic thing you have said to me all day," she said in her best southern accent.
Ryan laughed looking back at her as they entered the dance floor, "Frankly my dear I don't give a…."
He was stopped when her mouth covered his. He pulled her in tighter before they were pulled back into reality by one Sandy Cohen.
"Look kids, I don't want to have to separate you too but I will. You don't want the Nana to give you one of her lectures about PDA's," he laughed pulling his wife in before dipping her.
"I think the more important part of that comment is that the Nana knows what a PDA is," Ryan laughed.
The song changed leading the couple to take a walk to the edge of the property to have a private moment. Ryan sat down on a stone bench as Taylor twirled to the song playing in the background before sitting down on his lap.
Taylor pulled Ryan in closer whispering into his ear, "Thank you, Ryan Atwood."
He pulled back at her, to see the expression on her face, "Tay, you're always welcome but I am not sure what you are thanking me for?"
She stood up placing her hands on his shoulders, "For helping me get up this morning and for holding my hair back when I got sick. You're getting to be the master at hair holding, ever thought of a career in it?"
He stood up placing a hand onto her stomach, "I think I should stick to the career I have since this little one will need bottles, cloths and a roof over it's head."
"Are you saying your son or daughter wouldn't have a stable life with a father who just knows how to hold back women's hair? I think he or she would be proud of you either way. Just like I am," she said putting her hand over his.
"Well, Mr. Atwood I think you have the right idea. Stick to our plan," she said laughing.
"And what plan is that Mrs. Atwood?"
Taking his face in her tiny hands she said, "Well my love, to love you everyday like it's the last, to hold you closer then before and to never forget where we came from because it made us who we are today."
His pulled her into a kiss as she spoke her last word.