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“Butterflies,” I answer. I take hold of my Dad’s arm to get his attention, and in front of my family, I ask, “Will you be my best man?”
His eyes lock on mine, and I watch as emotions wash over his features. “I’d be honored, son.”
We don’t get to bask in our moment for long because Mom’s in wedding mode. “Abigail needs to come over this afternoon so Dana can have her fit on the dress. For the love of God, make sure she doesn’t have paint on her hands. I’ll shit myself if she gets it on the dress.”
I chuckle, loving how excited my mom is about the wedding.
Sunday will be perfect, just like Abigail is, and then she’ll have my last name.
Abigail Vetrov.
Fucking perfect.
Abbie
Dressed in the wedding gown of my dreams, I’m speechless and overly emotional.
The heart-shaped lace bodice leaves my shoulders bare, and at my waist, chiffon falls in a cloud to my bare feet. My hair hangs in a long braid down my back, baby’s breath woven into the strands.
I stare at my beautiful reflection, in total wonder at the pure bliss that’s my life.
Hi, Abbie. I’m so proud of you. Look how far you’ve come.
Tears blur my eyes, and I swallow hard.
You’ve survived so much and managed to get the man of your dreams.
Thank you for fighting for me.
“Are you ready?” Winter asks softly from the doorway.
Turning around, a wave of emotion hits hard, and I struggle to keep the tears back.
“Oh, baby,” she coos as she rushes to me. I’m pulled into a gentle hug. “It’s okay to cry on your special day.”
Pulling back, I inhale deeply before I meet her eyes. “Thank you for everything, Winter. I appreciate you so much.”
A soft smile curves her lips as she adjusts a curl by my ear. “Will you do me one favor?”
“Anything,” I whisper.
“Love my boy as much as I do.”
I nod, a tear spiraling down my cheek.
“Okay, it’s actually two favors,” she chuckles as she blinks to stop her own tears from falling.
I smile through the emotion overwhelming me.
“Will you please call me mom?”
Oh shit. There goes my makeup.
My face crumbles, and I hug her so hard as a sob escapes me. “I’d like that very much, Mom.”
“Oh my God,” Please tell me you’re both not crying your makeup off,” Grandma Dana cries as she hurries toward us.
Mom and I pull apart, chuckling as Grandma Dana tries to salvage our makeup.
