Page 44 of Marry Me Tomorrow
“Thank you, Samson,” Jenny says softly. “It was a beautiful ceremony, and I’m so happy to be welcomed so graciously into your family.”
With that, Samson heads back to his seat beside my mom and dad. Mom is smiling, tears glistening in her eyes. She’s been crying nonstop since the rehearsal last night, and I’m surprised she hasn’t run out of tears by now.
Since the wedding party was entirely made up of couples, we decided to nix the traditional seating arrangement of bridesmaids on one side and groomsmen on the other. Instead, Gwen and Niall sit to Jenny’s right, and Greg and Holly to my left.
“Gwen,” Jenny says, “you did such a beautiful job. Everything about the wedding has been gorgeous.”
“It was a group effort, for sure,” Gwen replies, picking up her drink. “Trent, your mom had some wonderful ideas. Everything came together beautifully.”
“Cheers to that,” Niall adds, raising his glass.
“How about a toast?” Greg’s voice cuts through the quiet hum of conversation. The DJ hands him a microphone, and everyone falls silent, turning their attention to him.
“To the happy couple,” Greg begins, his voice full of warmth and humor. “I never thought I’d see the day when some lucky girl would finally capture Trent’s heart. But, Jenny, I couldn’t be happier that it’s you. You’ve made Trent so happy, and I hope nothing but the best for the two of you.”
A round of applause follows, and Greg raises his glass high, his grin wide.
Holly takes the microphone next, a soft smile on her face as she speaks. “I remember the day I first met you, Jenny. And from that first moment, I could tell you were smitten with our Trent. He’s got such a big heart, always looking out for everyone else. I’m so thankful that now he has you to look out for him. We wish you both a lifetime of happiness and love.”
Everyone cheers again, glasses clinking together in celebration. Jenny and I exchange a quiet look, both of us aware of the truth beneath the surface. We’re fooling everyone—our friends, our family—but we’ve come this far, and there’s not much we can do now except move forward with the plan.
But the way I’ve been feeling lately—there’s a part of me that wonders if maybe, just maybe, something more could come from all this. I already feel myself falling more in love with Jenny with each passing day.
In this moment, as we stand together at the head table, I can’t help but notice how natural it feels to hold her hand. How every small touch, every glance feels weighted with something real—something I didn’t anticipate. I try to brush it off as the nerves of the day, but deep down, I know it’s more than that.
Jenny leans into me, her smile tender, and she squeezes my hand gently. I feel her warmth steadying me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“This,” she whispers, her eyes shining with something I can’t quite place, “is everything I could have dreamed of for today.”
I meet her gaze, my heart thudding a little harder. “And it’s everything I didn’t know I was missing.”
We hold that moment, surrounded by our friends and family, the quiet whispers of happiness weaving through the space. The future may be uncertain, but in this moment, it feels right.
Who knows what will happen in a year? But for now, it’s enough to sit here, hand in hand, and imagine the possibilities.
After the festivities finally wind down and enough time has passed for us to leave, we ride back to my house—our house now. The truck hums beneath us, the night outside still and quiet, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Jenny is quiet beside me, her gaze fixed out the window and her hands resting loosely on her lap.
When we pull into the driveway, the headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the familiar porch. I hop out, circle the truck, and help Jenny down. She hesitates as I lift her into my arms.
“Trent, what are you doing? I can walk,” she protests, though there’s a soft inflection of amusement in her tone.
“It’s tradition for a husband to carry his wife across the threshold,” I reply matter-of-factly, a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.
“Fine,” she concedes with an exaggerated sigh. “But you can put me down right after that.”
I nod solemnly, cradling her securely as I carry her toward the door. The faint scent of her perfume lingers in the cool night air, light and floral, mingling with the earthy aroma of the outdoors. Once inside, I step over the threshold and set her down gently.
“Thank you,” she says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I need to get out of the dress.”
I watch her ascend the stairs, each step revealing the subtle sway of her dress, her figure silhouetted against the soft glow of the hall light. At the top, she turns down the hallway toward her room. I stand at the foot of the stairs, hand running absently through my hair. I’m not supposed to follow her up, right? That’s not what we agreed on.
The events of the day replay in my mind like a reel of film. I’m a married man now. The marina will be safe. It should feel like a relief, but the weight of it all presses against my chest in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
“Umm, Trent,” Jenny’s voice floats down from upstairs, tinged with an edge of uncertainty that sets my heart racing.
“Yes?” I call back, already bounding up the stairs two at a time. By the time I pause outside her door, I’m slightly breathless. Her door is ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway. “Everything okay?”
“You might as well come in,” she replies, the nervous edge now tempered with a hint of exasperation. “I’m not going to be able to get out of this dress without some help. As much as I love it, I definitely don’t want to sleep in it.”
