Page 51 of When Love Changes Everything

I can’t help but replay the moment I asked Aaron to walk me down the aisle.

"It will be my honor to give you away," he had said, his eyes glistening with quiet emotion. "The things you've accomplished all on your own fill me with fatherly pride. I'm so proud of you, Lisa."

The contrast between their words—my father’s duty versus Aaron’s genuine pride—hits me hard.

"Thanks, Dad," I say, the reality of the moment settling over me. "Thanks for confirming what I’ve always known deep down: no matter how much I love you, how much I crave your approval or wish you were part of my life, you don't feel the same way. And you never will."

I watch as a wave of emotions sweeps over his face—shock, anger, disbelief, indignation. His round face turns a bright red. He flaps his lips, looking for words to throw back at me. "I didn’t come here to be insulted by my own daughter. You should be thankful I showed up at all!"

"I'm thankful you're here," I say, offering him a genuine smile. The truth settles over me, rooting itself deep inside, bringing a quiet acceptance that calms my soul. "Thank you for being here, Dad. You can join our wedding guests downstairs and be part of the festivities afterward, but Aaron is walking me down the aisle."

For a moment, he just stares at me, his chest rising and falling with each angry breath. His eyes flicker with something—something that almost looks like pain—but it’s quickly replaced by more defiance. Slowly, he turns toward the door, his back to me, his posture stiff with resentment. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t look back.

The door clicks shut behind him, and I stand there for a moment, feeling the weight of what just happened. It’s over. The finality of it settles over me, but strangely, I feel a sense of peace. I’ve made my decision. I’m moving forward—with Aaron, with the people who truly love me. And that’s all that matters.

Chapter 20

Mateo

I take several cleansing breaths, my heart pounding in anticipation as I wait for Lisa to walk in. I’ve opted to stand alone, with only Davey by my side. You could say he’s playing the role of both best man and ring bearer, though he’d probably find it funny to be called anything other than my littleamigo.

I glance down at him and catch him staring at the two matching wedding bands resting on the pillow in his hands. His small fingers trace the edges of the rings, his eyes wide with wonder. For a moment, I smile—his innocence, his awe—it reminds me of how much I've changed, how much I’ve grown, and how far I’ve come to be here, standing on the cusp of forever with Lisa.

The sound of the music shifts, and my thoughts are swept away. It's almost time.

I watch as Gretchen steps into the sanctuary, her presence commanding the room with an elegance that's impossible to ignore. Lisa looks just like her—right down to the graceful way she carries herself—but the contrast is clear. While Lisa’s hair is a fiery red, Gretchen’s is blonde, and her eyes a rich cinnamon that shimmer with warmth. Our gazes meet for a brief moment, and she offers me an approving smile before taking her seat next to Stan, who, as usual, wears a sour expression, completely at odds with the happiness of the moment. How these two found each other in life might just be the eighth wonder of the world.

Next, Lily walks in, followed closely by the Linder sisters. One by one, they each make their way down the aisle, each of them so beautiful, so poised. They take their places across from Davey and me, the bonds of family and friendship creating an unspoken connection between us all. The approval in Lily's eyes fills me with peace, assuring me that she’s happy for Lisa and me, and that she fully supports us.

A few beats later, the music changes to the Wedding March. I focus my attention on the back of the church as the soft hum of the music fills the air. I take a slow breath, trying to steady the thunderous beat of my own pulse.

And then, she steps into the aisle with Aaron by her side. Everything else fades away—the guests, the sounds, the world outside. All I can see is her, and I swear time slows.

Her dress… I’m not great with details, but I know this: it’s perfect. The lace is just enough to make her look like she stepped out of a classic movie—timeless. The way it fits her, like it wasmade just for her, shows every part of her I’ve always loved. The fabric flows behind her, trailing like it’s got a life of its own. The veil falls over her shoulders and down her back. Simple but stunning, catching the light every time she moves.

And her face? She’s smiling at me like I’m the only guy in the world. Her eyes lock on mine, and I can’t move. I can’t even think. All I know is this is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her, and somehow, she’s walking toward me. Towardme.

I try to hold it together. But, damn. How did I get so lucky?

***

"Remember the last time we danced like this?" I ask Lisa, guiding her effortlessly across the dance floor, the soft glow of the lights reflecting in her eyes.

"Well," she replies with a teasing smile, "technically, it wasnothinglike this."

"Fair point," I say, spinning her gently.

She laughs, that warm, melodic sound I could listen to forever. "And let’s not forget how you promised it would be just one dance and then disappeared."

"I kept my word," I say, pulling her just a little closer, so I can feel the warmth of her against me. "One dance, and I was gone. But I left my heart behind—with you."

Her fingers graze the back of my neck, and her eyes soften as she looks up at me. "I guess you’re lucky I've taken such good care of it," she whispers.

We move in sync, the rest of the room fading into a blur. Though the dance floor is alive with other couples, it feels as if we’re in a world of our own, the music weaving around us, each step a quiet reminder of how far we’ve come since that first dance—how one moment changed everything.

***

When the Father-Daughter dance is announced, Lisa glances at me, her eyes searching mine as if seeking reassurance. Then, she turns her gaze toward her father. I follow her line of sight and watch as Stan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with an air of defiance. His body language screams obstinance, a silent declaration that he’s not moving—not for her, not ever.

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