Page 102 of Make Me Want it Too

He watches her, mesmerized, with a big grin the whole way down. He even waves at her as she passes us, making her smile grow and her cheeks turn bright pink.

I’ve never been one to get sentimental or emotional at weddings. They’ve always only been happy occasions. But it hits me—watching how happy and in love my cousin is—that I want that, too. Desperately.

And the only person I want it with is Macy.

And this is my last night with her.

It feels like there’s a lump in my throat connected to multiple knots in my gut.

I look back in hopes—and then she’s there, like the answer to a silent wish.

She’s glowing—from the sunlight in her hair to her luminous smile and bright eyes. She is the most beautiful woman in the world. And while I love everything about her appearance, it’s more than that. It’s what shines from within. It’s the kind of person she is. It’s how she makes everyone around her feel.

She’s so stunning and radiant, I almost don’t notice Spencer walking next to her. Her hand curved around his forearm.

Her gaze locks with mine, just for a second. My heart starts pounding and everything else melts away. I know what I need to do.

I don’t know why I didn’t consider it before. We’re both single adults. There’s nothing standing in the way of me shooting my shot. I’m going to do it. Tonight. After the reception. I’m going to ask her if she wants to try and see where this goes after today. Her and me. For real.

The resolution fills me with warmth and hope.

As I watch her walk down the aisle, I’ve never felt as sure about something or as scared shitless as I am right now.

She could say no. And that’d be it. No chance for us—the answer to the question I’ve asked myself over and over when I go to bed at night—what if?

But she could say yes. And for some reason, that thought is even scarier.

The music stops. Everyone stands. Jake is wiping tears away with the back of his hand and we all turn to see Bex.

Except there is no Bex.

It’s quiet.

There’s a cough in the crowd.

People start shifting on their feet.

And then, finally, Bex appears, standing at the head of the aisle.

She looks as beautiful and perfect as a bride should, in her white dress, opulent bouquet, hair done up. Immaculate. Her father is nowhere to be seen, but that’s probably for the best.

My eyes sting. Am I tearing up?

But something isn’t quite right.

Bex’s face, her smile, it’s forced. Her eyes are wide as the violins start up again, playing Pachelbel’s Canon.

She begins walking down the aisle and it almost feels fine—except her bouquet is shaking. She looks around, a crease between her brows forming as she gets closer to the altar.

Suddenly, she stops, right at the halfway point and her smile melts away.

“Jake—I’m so sorry.” Bex drops her bouquet. It falls to her feet, scattering flower petals.

Jake tilts his head, taking a step toward her and holding out a hand.

And then Bex turns and runs the other direction.

The violins stop.

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