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When it was time, I got ready, waiting until the very last minute to even look at the dress Connor had picked out for me. Like he said, it wasn’t a “real” wedding dress, but it’s so, so perfect. It’s V-neck with an open back and an A-line skirt that ends just past the knees. The best part? It has pockets.
But, for all the great there is in Connor, he forgot to pack me shoes, and since I only had the ones I wore to class, white Nikes would have to do.
Also: bless my mother, because I don’t think she knows how to feel. How to act. The dress, the shoes, the sudden wedding that she had no involvement in…
If it means that much to her, I’ll give her the wedding she wants, but I know—in my heart—it will only be for her. Me? I couldn’t be happier with what’s about to happen.
Trevor, Amy, Mom and I were told to wait at the hotel until Connor sent a drop-pin of the location Trevor needed take us. According to Trevor, Connor and his dads are already here.
I open the car door just enough to breathe in the fresh, crisp air and look around. Bursts of sunlight filter through the branches above us, and in the distance, I can hear the water flowing freely.
Memories flood my vision of the first and only time we came here, and suddenly, without meaning to, I’m crying. “Ava, if you don’t want to—” Trevor starts, but I cut him off.
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I inform. “It’s that I can’t wait to.”
CONNOR
“You guys ever miss touching boob?” I ask and immediately clamp my lips shut, my face burning with embarrassment because what the fuck kind of question is that to ask your dad and his husband. A stupid fucking one, that’s what.
Luckily, they laugh at my idiocy. “You’re nervous, huh?” Dad asks, fixing my shirt sleeve.
Nervous? “Yes.” But I’m also having flashbacks of when Ava and I ended up here and we fooled around. Hence, the dumb boob question.
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear a tie?” Dad asks, pointing to his own.
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good.” I opted for a simple look. Cream-colored slacks, a plain white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and buttons undone at the collar. I wanted to be casual today, comfortable. There was no way I was putting on a tux in this heat, and besides, Ava likes my arms. She tells me so all the time.
“You’ll be fine, Connor,” Michael says, massaging my shoulder.
“Any last-minute words of wisdom?” I ask, shifting my gaze between my dads. “Or, I don’t know, something motivational?”
“Mike and I look to you and Ava for motivation, son,” Dad chuckles.
“It’s true,” Michael says.
Dad adds, “You know what you’re doing. You always have.” Emotion makes his words wobble, and he sniffs once, his eyes turning red.
“Dad…” I say, stepping closer.
“I’m just so proud of you, Connor. For the man you’ve become, the husband you’re about to be, maybe even the father you’ll be one day.”
I crack a smile, all tension leaving my shoulders. “I’d make an awesome dad,” I tell him. “I had the best example.”
Want to know what three grown-ass men sound like crying? Comical. That’s what it is. And maybe that’s why we’re all laughing through our tears, or maybe we’re just doing that to hide our real emotions because “Holy shit,” I laugh-cry. “I’m getting married.”
Before I can stew on that thought any longer, my phone goes off with a text. I reach into my pocket and read the notification. “They’re here,” I say. “They’ll be here any second.”
Dad pats my back a few times while Michael asks, “What is it you kids say today?” Then hollers, “Let’s goooooo!”
I laugh, unrestrained, and get into position. “Let’s fucking go,” I murmur.
* * *
It feels like I stand there forever, anxiously sweating, looking toward the path’s opening for my girl to appear, and when she does, I lose my breath.
Literally.
I got the dress from a shop a few blocks from our apartment, where Ava buys most of her clothes, so they knew her and me, considering I like to watch her try on dresses. Ava in sweats and a messy knot is killer as it is. Ava in a dress with her hair down, curls everywhere? Next level.
