Page 224 of One Big Little Secret

Marrying this man isn’t a trial, though. I’m so over judging him for being gruff and demanding when I know his heart’s in the right place.

“Believe it, lovely lady. You two were meant to be,” she says. “Fate has a funny way of being pushy until you give in.”

That was me, the not giving in part. Patton, to my eternal gratitude, was ready from the start. Or at least from the moment I told him about Arlo after that trip to Utah.

I’m the fool who kept running while he chased.

Thank God he never quit.

“I guess I don’t mind pushy,” I say absently.

“Well, I hope so. You’re marrying my youngest son.” She smiles. “Life has a way of making things right in the end.”

Delly nods firmly. I wonder if that’s as much for her as it is for me.

I don’t need to ask to know Evelyn Hibbing still weighs on her mind. And it breaks my heart every time, hating that this sweet lady had to have her best friend turn supervillain.

“Some thingsare meant to be, I should say,” she corrects. “But no matter how wild it seems, it’ll always be clear with time.”

“You’re probably right. But there are days when I don’t think Patton and I were meant to be at all,” I muse, watching my reflection again.

The hotel room is one of the most luxurious I’ve ever stepped foot in with enormous gold picture frames and a four-poster bed. I thought these beds were almost extinct outside the movies.

Delly shakes her head, her curls bobbing. “Oh, you’re right to be nervous. Who isn’t on her wedding day? Just as long as you remember, no one else could have infatuated my son like you—and no one could ever capture his entire heart.”

My cheeks heat. I touch the embroidered initials on the side of my dress again, feeling them like this security blanket I desperately need.

Later, I’ll ask him to find them. It’ll be funny, knowing he’ll want to shred this dress off me and—

I blink, banishing the vision.

Yeah, let’s save that for when his mother isn’t in the same room.

“Even when he makes me want to punch him?” I ask.

“That’s called love,” Delly says without missing a beat.

“Even when I feel so unworthy?”

“Even then,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Give it time. In a few years, you’ll wonder how you ever lived before this family.”

Wow, she’s good.

I think I’m a decent mom, but Delly Rory could write books on it. I wonder if I’ll ever turn out a fraction as awesome if we give Arlo a few more siblings?

A lump moves up my throat.

All this talk of love and family makes me think about mine.

My parents are here, yes, after I sent them a belated invitation. We’ve had phone calls and a brief visit last month where I introduced Arlo since they’ve been behaving themselves and trying to act human.

But they’re not guests of honor.

You don’t just move on that easy for a storybook happy ending, not when there’s trauma involved.

That’s why I’m not having Dad walk me down the aisle. Same reason my mom isn’t here with me in the bridal room, where she’d only stress me out before the big moment.

I have Delly, and Junie will be along shortly. So will a couple ladies from The Cardinal, new friends I love going out with for lunch and after-dinner drinks.

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