Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
When she was completely dressed, we all stood around her with our hands over our mouths and tears in our eyes, taking in her breathtaking beauty. The dress I’d watched her pick out in the shop just two weeks ago was somehow even more gorgeous now, the creamy lace stunning against her freshly bronzed skin, the sweetheart neckline and open back giving her a dreamy, almost Hollywood look. She was a star, glowing from every inch, her short hair curled and topped with a tasteful, delicate flower crown.
And before we knew it, Morgan and I stood behind the closed shutter doors of the beach house with her father, listening to the guests as they were seated outside and knowing her future husband waited at the end of the aisle.
Time slowed as I watched Morgan with her father, her arm threaded through his and dewy eyes cast up toward him. He smiled down at her with his own eyes misted, placing his hand over hers in his arm, assuring her with his strength and caring touch. They didn’t have to say a word for me to hear everything.
I love you.
I’m proud of you.
I’ve got you.
My heart stung with a longing, the same one I’d always had watching them together. I’d never know what that was like, to have a father like Robert, or to have a mother like Amanda — but this family was my family, too. And when Robert looked back at me, reaching his other hand for mine and pulled me into his side for a hug, the only thing that stopped me from sobbing was remembering how Oliver’s cousin threatened to murder us if we ruined her makeup one more time.
“I love you girls so much,” Robert said softly, and we both leaned into him, sniffing back emotion. “Let’s get you both down that aisle, shall we?”
We nodded, and Morgan reached out to squeeze my arm with a smile before I released them from my grasp and took my place in front of them. The wedding planner nodded once we were in place, speaking softly into her headpiece, and then she flashed me a smile and waved me forward, closer to the doors.
“Ready?” she asked.
And I was. I had been focused all day. I had felt good, right, warm and fuzzy and wrapped in love.
But the moment those doors opened and the entire congregation turned to stare at me, my eyes found Tyler, and everything I’d suppressed that morning and afternoon flooded me with a vengeance, nearly knocking me to my knees.
My feet were glued to the floor where I stood, and if time had slowed before, it was at a complete standstill now. I couldn’t hear the soft harp playing, or feel the breeze rolling in from the ocean. I couldn’t taste anything but bitter, unrelenting truth on my tongue, and all I could see was the man I knew I’d never be truly free of.
Somehow, I managed to take that first step, and then the next, and though I knew I should smile and look around at everyone gathered in the chairs around the aisle, I could only look at Tyler.
And he could only look at me.
The way the sun was slowly sinking cast a golden glow over his chestnut hair, which was styled and neat, parted on the side and swept over in an effortless way. The breeze blew gently through the strands, but didn’t disturb them, and his eyes were ablaze as he watched me walk toward him. I noted his freshly shaved jaw, the way it ticked and flexed the closer I came, the thick muscles of his neck straining against each swallow, and each shallow breath that found his chest.
I’d seen Tyler in pajamas, and in swim trunks, and in his business suit and in his casual shorts and crew shirts. I’d seen him dressed up for a night on the town and even in a tuxedo for his senior prom and my own, too.
But I’d never seen Tyler Wagner, scarred from pain and longing, standing in a tux next to his sister’s future husband with so much written in his sad eyes as they watched me walking toward him. I’d never felt the heat of his gaze so fiercely, like a flame held just centimeters from my skin, hot enough to make me wriggle and squirm for fear of being burned, but far enough away to not actually mark me.
How was it so heartbreaking to look at him, and yet so intoxicating, too? How was there still hope and want and longing simmering deep in my belly as I watched him, when all the signs pointed to us being nothing but toxic for each other?
How could we ever be together?
How could we ever be apart?
I paused at the end of the aisle, watching him for a long moment with all those questions whirling in my mind before I finally turned to take my place on the opposite side. I caught a brief, stiff breath of clean air, and then all eyes were on the doors I’d just walked through, on the bride and father who walked through those doors, arm in arm.