Which made him look like a Norman Rockwell painting.
Would Cooper wind up coming to the reception tonight?I wondered. Or was that teaser in the vestibule all the time I’d get? Because I had a question I’d been waiting to ask him. And if I’d had some warning he was coming, for god’s sake—if he hadn’t just crashed into this day out of nowhere—I might have had the presence of mind to ask it.
Or maybe not. I might need a bottle of chardonnay myself for that one.
Now the rev was wrapping up. He seemed pretty pleased with himself, like he’d really gottenhow love workscleared up foreveryone—and solved all of society’s problems as a bonus. Were we supposed to clap or something? I looked around.
And that’s when I saw Cooper, close by in a set of side pews, sitting alone with his elbow resting on his rucksack, watching me like he had X-ray vision into my thoughts. Before I could look away, he lifted his hand and touched the side of his head—and as he did it, I swear, I heard his voice as clearly as if he’d spoken out loud:Stop, drop, and roll.
Dammit, Cooper, I thought.Why do you have to ruin everything?
And then, like there was no other choice…
I took a deep breath.
And I let my knees buckle.
And I dropped to the floor.
Four
WAS I CONVINCING?
I have no idea.
My only plan was to keep my eyes closed—without visibly squeezing.
Trickier than it sounds.
The whole church gasped as I fell, and then it shifted into murmuring. I felt the air thicken and the sounds muffle as, I assume, my family gathered around me. I heard the rev say, “Don’t worry, folks. This happens all the time. She’ll be back on her feet in a jiffy.”
Hell if I would.
Ashley wanted to call 911, but my mother kept insisting it was just nerves. Grandma Dodie kept asking everyone to keep back to give me some air. Pete kept declaring I was turning blue.
Which I wasn’t.
After several minutes, when I still hadn’t revived, the rev leaned in conspiratorially to my mom and said, “Maybe we should take her somewhere more comfortable.” Pete offered to carry me—which got an instant “Not you” from my mom. Pete was protesting with “I dropped heronetime” when I felt two arms slide under me like a forklift and hoist me up.
Good. Pearce had been suspiciously silent so far. I’d half wondered if he was checking his investment app. At least now he was doing something. Even if Iwasin the process of weaseling out of our wedding.
He didn’t know that.
Yet.
And maybe I wouldn’t weasel out after all. Something about being carried like that was just so… romantic. You couldn’t escape it. You’re so out of control and so vulnerable, all limp with your eyes closed, caught in swells of motion—and the arms holding you are so anchoring and safe. I felt like… adamselor something. And Pearce, for maybe the first time ever, felt like a rescuing knight. Someone I could feel protected by.
Cherished, even.
Was that going too far? This wasPearce.
I was transported from the sanctuary, down the hallway, and toward the same bridal room where I’d first manacled myself into that used wedding gown.
Or, at least, I assumed that’s where we went.
All I could feel was my cheek against a solid chest, the reassurance of being clutched tight, and the rhythm of walking. Plus, just… full-body gratitude for the rescue.
I wondered if this one little stunt might save the day.
