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“You will. I’m home. Love you like crazy. See you at the altar. I’ll be the one wearing white.”
“It’s hilarious at times how not funny you can be. See you tomorrow, love. Dream of me.”
“Every second of every day and night.”
“Bria?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll be the one at the altar waiting to marry you.” I smile to myself. He can be corny too.
“I’m sure I’ll spot you in the crowd. I hope I just find the right church.”
“Bria . . .” I love to drive him mad.
“Even if I were blind, I would still find you.”
“You tend to smell me.”
“Shut up.” I giggle, and his voice turns to that warm, dreamy one.
“Sleep well, love.”
I hang up and clutch my phone to my heart, all these emotions warming me from within.
To my surprise, I sleep well. When I open my eyes the next morning, there are countless vases full of beautiful red and white roses, and from every one, a note hangs. I scramble up, reading them through watery eyes.
I love you, Bria, you’re beyond beautiful, thank you for loving me.
I worship the ground you walk on. You amaze me.
My heart is yours, thank you for being mine.
I can finally call you my wife.
Without you, there’s nothing, with you there is a reason for everything.
Until the very last thump, my heart will always beat for you.
The door to my room opens, and my mother pauses, awe transforming her delicate features.
“That boy. I have never seen a man love a woman more. But now it’s time to make you into a bride.”
I rush straight into my mother’s arms, embracing her for a few minutes, silently crying. When we pull away, we put ourselves together. The morning turns into a whirlwind with too many people for my liking helping me dress and do my makeup and hair.
I catch the final results in my reflection in the mirror, feeling beautiful. My hair is down in loose curls, giving me a romantic look. Deep purple, smoky makeup paints my eyes, and pinkish nude tones color my lips.
This is it, and I struggle with emotions threatening to take the form of tears, but I suppress them. I don’t want to ruin my makeup.
My parents step inside, looking stunning—my mother in a round neck, light gray designer dress, and my father in his custom-made suit, with a light gray tie to match my mother—both the definition of class and elegance. Pride and love shine in their eyes, and it’s difficult to keep my emotions in check. Alex and Quinn battle their own emotions as they pull me into a long, tight embrace.
Everyone stops snapping pictures of me when my mother announces we must go, and I breathe relieved. Sitting between both my fathers in the old, black, timeless Rolls Royce has an instant calming effect.
“Nervous?” my father asks.
“Just a little. But I can’t wait to say yes.” I grin, and he clasps my hand in his.
“I’m happy your dream is finally coming true. I heard you have been daydreaming about it for years.”
