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Now, my only option is to suck it up and try to make sure Stella has a good night.
But tomorrow? After the ceremony? I’m going to make damn sure I achieve what I’ve set out to do.
I have to. There’s no other option. My heart is far too involved at this point.
Tampa, FL, November 7th, Saturday
Ryan
The clubhouse is packed to the gills with all of Stella and Sal’s closest Sunny Creek friends. Pretty much every face I recognize from various places—bingo, dinner, the gym, the pool, golf with my dad.
There must be a hundred people in this room, but I shouldn’t be surprised.
Over the past few days, I’ve found that Sal and Stella are the new power couple of Sunny Creek.
And it also appears Stella has chosen pink as the official wedding color.
Pink roses.
Pink streamers.
Pink tablecloths and seat covers.
Pink picture frames filled with photos of her and my dad.
Hell, even the cake has pink icing.
It’s a bit much, but par for the course when it comes to Stella Page.
I look to my right and find my dad standing beside me at the makeshift altar—located where they usually call out the bingo numbers—his head held high and a small smile curling his lips at the corners.
Yeah. He’s definitely ready to get married.
When the music starts from a boombox controlled by one of the women from Stella’s knitter’s club, I turn to face the rows of chairs and the pink-lined aisle that sits between them.
First, Willow, Carly’s sister, starts to walk down it. Her stride is slow and steady to the softly playing music. Everything about her screams prim and proper and order. Her blond hair sits on her head in some sort of fancy bun without a single hair out of place, and the bright-pink bridesmaid dress she wears is pressed to perfection.
Seeing as Stella was adamant that my dad not see her before the wedding, she and Willow and Carly stayed in a hotel last night and arrived at the clubhouse with just twenty minutes to spare.
So, today, about three minutes before the wedding started, was the first time I actually got to meet Willow. It lasted all of ten seconds and revolved around simple Hellos and Nice to meet yous.
Though, I haven’t even seen Stella or Carly yet.
Once Willow reaches the end of the aisle, she offers a friendly smile toward my dad and steps to the opposite side of where the minister resides.
The music continues to play, and next thing I know, a vision of hot pink and wavy red hair starts to make her way down the aisle and toward me.
Carly.
Her slightly wrinkled bridesmaid dress is just as ridiculous as Willow’s. If bubble gum were radioactive, it would be this color.
But she looks so fucking beautiful. Like sunshine and sass and wildness.
Like my Carly.
Her blue eyes meet mine, and my heart starts pounding riotously in my chest.
I’m surprised she’s even making eye contact with me, but damn, I’m thankful for it.
I offer a hesitant smile, unsure of how she’s feeling or what she’s thinking, and I’m gifted with the vision of her full lips cresting at the corners. It’s subtle, it’s discreet, but it’s something. And fuck, it’s hard to believe one simple smile from Carly would make me feel like someone’s hooked up an air pump to my chest. But it does.
Unfortunately, the moment passes far quicker than I’d like, and when the music shifts and Stella starts to make her way down the aisle in a hot-pink wedding dress, with her cleavage held high in the air like it’s some kind of offering to the Sunny Creek gods, everyone stands, focusing on the smiling bride-to-be.
Everyone but me, that is.
I’m too busy covertly looking past my dad and at Carly.
She watches her mother walk toward my father, and her eyes shine with happiness.
She’s breathtaking. Every little thing about her, from the tips of her pink-painted toenails to the wild waves of her hair. She’s every bit as beautiful as I’ve imagined her in my mind for the past few weeks. If not more so.
I have no idea how long I stay lost in my thoughts, or how long I keep subtly watching Carly, but when my ears catch on to the minister’s voice, I realize Stella is now standing beside my father and they’re getting ready to say their vows.
My dad is first, and the way he looks at Stella says it all. His eyes shine with unshed emotion, and he gazes down at his bride, taking her hands into his.
He looks so proud, so confident, so ready to commit himself to her for the rest of his days. And his smile is genuine, honest, and showcases just how deep his feelings, his love, go for the woman before him.
A second chance at love, that’s what this wedding is about.
