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But after the first few steps, I stop seeing any of them.

Because I see him.

Jude.

My Grumpy.

He stands beneath a simple wooden arch in a dark suit that fits his broad shoulders so perfectly it should honestly be illegal. His white shirt is open at the collar, because apparently even on his wedding day there are limits to what Jude Hawthorne will tolerate, and his dark curls are just unruly enough to still look like him.

His brothers stand beside him, but I barely notice them. Jude is staring at me.

And there are tears in his eyes.

My steps falter.

Oh God.

His lips curve into that small smile I spent so long fighting for, except he doesn’t look away or try to hide it this time. He just watches me come to him.

My dress moves softly around my legs as I walk. I didn’t want anything enormous or extravagant. Just ivory fabric falling simply to the ground, a fitted bodice with delicate threads of gold that catch the dying sunlight whenever I move. My hair falls loose down my back in long curls, just how Jude likes it.

His eyes travel over me before coming back to my face. He shakes his head once and I laugh through the tears already filling my eyes.

Papà’s hand tightens around mine, and suddenly we’re there.

In front of him.

Papà kisses my cheek before placing my hand in Jude’s. Jude’s fingers close around mine immediately.

Warm. Strong.

Home.

“You okay?” he whispers.

I laugh softly. “Never been better.”

His smile grows.

We turn towards each other as Papà takes his seat, but Jude doesn’t let go of my hands.

I don’t hear much of what is said after that. Something about love, commitment, family. Forever.

I’m sure it’s beautiful.

But I’m standing in front of Jude Hawthorne while the sun sets over his ranch and his thumbs move slowly over my fingers, and I can’t concentrate on anything except the fact that I’m about to become his wife.

A flash of white catches my eye. A butterfly floats between the rows of chairs, dancing on the breeze before it moves towards us. It circles once, then lands on Jude’s shoulder.

My breath catches.

Jude glances towards it. Its white wings slowly open and close against the dark fabric of his suit, and my fingers tighten around his.

Then it lifts into the air again, circles us and lands on my bouquet.

Right beside the little gold medallion.

I stop breathing.