Page 26 of Face-Off with my Childhood Best Friend

We make our way towards Oscar, who is waiting at the altar. My heart races with excitement at knowing I’m approaching the next chapter of my life.

With Oscar Bridge … my soon-to-be husband.

Mom presses a tissue over her watery eyes as I stroll past her, but not before I notice her giving Oscar’s mom a thumbs-up, and I chuckle.

When I reach the altar, my heart flutters as Oscar turns and smiles at me. His blue irises have darkened, causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

I pass my bouquet to my sister Lucia, who is now standing next to Nate, Oscar’s teammate, and, according to Oscar, the least likely to fuck up as his best man.

Oscar’s exact words.

The priest begins, and we exchange vows, promising to love and cherish each other for all eternity.

I can do that, so much so that I feel a sense of peace wash over me.

The anxiety and self-doubt that usually plague me fades into the background, replaced by a deep certainty that this is where I belong.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest says as our guests cheer behind us.

“Give her a kiss,” one guest yells before the priest gets to say it.

With tears in my eyes, Oscar grabs me and presses his lips on mine, sealing our love with a passionate kiss.

When we pull away, Oscar whispers in my ear, “Now we can make those children.”

He always knew I wanted children and wanted them as a younger mother. What I never knew was Oscar really wanted it, too.

I came off the pill a couple of months ago. We’re not pregnant yet, but I’m hopeful.

“Not in front of the guests, Oscar. I don’t need that kind of publicity.”

The reception is a whirlwind of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. I steal glances at Oscar whenever I can, still not quite believing that he is officially my husband.

He takes my hands and I dance with my new husband under a canopy of fairy lights.

“Can they not get the hint and go home?” he asks, a touch of mischief in his tone.

“Patience.”

“My balls have turned from blue to black.”

“Trust you.” I laugh as his hands stroke over my back. His touch is electric, sending shivers down my spine as we move in perfect harmony on the dance floor.

When a slow song plays, Oscar pulls me against his hard body, his gaze intense as he searches my eyes. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with so much emotion it takes away my breath.

“I love you too,” I reply, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

The reception was a blur of laughter, dancing, and toasts. And now the night has wound down and the guests have left for home, or their room in the hotel.

Oscar is standing on the balcony in our suite, staring into the distance. I enclose my arms around his waist and kiss his neck. Stealing a moment alone with my husband as we look at the twinkling city lights.

As he turns, his arms reach out and encircle me, drawing me near. “I can’t believe you’re my wife now,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I smile at him. “I can’t believe it either. But I’m so happy.”

“I’m about to make you a lot happier.” Oscar slides the hidden zip down my spine until his fingers play with my lacy panties. “Nice.”

“Don’t you dare ruin them,” I chastise, because my husband has an addiction to ripping off my panties, and then sending me packages of brand-new underwear. Underwear that he knows he’s going to destroy.

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