Page 1 of Ride By Your Side

1

Veronica

Goahead,callmeJulia Roberts. I mean, it is rather fitting given the situation. Today was supposed to be my fairy-tale wedding, complete with a white dress and a swoon-worthy happily ever after with everyone in town there to witness and celebrate. Instead? I’ve crammed myself and my big-ass poofy dress into the passenger seat of an old-school Ford Mustang, driven by none other than my best friend’s older brother—who, by the way, can’t stand me. Romantic, right? I should be driving off into the sunset with a man hopelessly obsessed with me. But nope, it’s the irritated grump glaring at the road ahead like I’ve personally gone out of my way to ruin his day.

Runaway Bridewas one of my favorite movies growing up, but my situation is far from romantic. Instead of having a salt-and-pepper dreamboat like Richard Gere sitting beside me, I’m stuck with someone who probably wishes I’d never been born. Miles Bennett has seen me as nothing more than the bane of hisexistence since we were kids, and despite trying every trick in the book, I’ve never been able to win him over.

Okay, so maybe not everyone has to like me, but I personally think they should—I’m a freaking delight. Sure, I have a reputation for stirring up trouble and drama, but coming from a place like Evergreen Grove, can you really blame me? This town is boring as hell—I can’t help that I had to be the one to shake things up. Plus, who else is going to be the one to give the good people what they want and keep the gossip mill running?

I know I’m the architect of my own chaos and responsible for the rumors that make their way through town, but I’ve also been blessed with the uncanny ability to talk myself out of almost anything. Take, for example, the time I got caught red-handed painting the side of an old, abandoned storefront.“I was only trying to make our town more beautiful with a mural for everyone to enjoy, Officer.”And guess what? My so-calledmuralstill stands today—a little slice of accidental civic pride, courtesy of yours truly.

So yes, it could be said that I was a bit of a troublemaker, and I often got Miles’s little sister—my best friend, Blair—in trouble with me, but it wasn’t like we ever had to deal with any serious consequences. We always walked away with minimal repercussions, and if anything, he should just be happy that his sister found her platonic soulmate, since that’s definitely what Blair and I are.

That’s exactly why she was the one I ran to this morning, completely panicked as fear and the realization I was marrying the wrong person took over. She not only stepped up and gave me the courage to do what I needed, but also set me up with my own personal getaway driver—too bad it turned out to be Miles. Where is Richard Gere when you need him?

Most people might expect their best friend to brush off wedding jitters as nothing more than normal cold feet, but notBlair. After spending the last ten years jetting around the world as a concert photographer, she’s become unapologetically blunt. Even though she just met my fiancé—or maybe nowex-fiancé—two weeks ago, she didn’t hesitate to make her opinion known: Pete West is trash. If only I could have figured it out just as quickly and without all the messy feelings involved.

I tried to lie to myself and tell her that all the red flags she was picking up on in such a short amount of time weren’t a big deal, and that he was different, but deep down, I think I always knew the truth. Maybe once upon a time, when our relationship was just starting out, he was a kind and charming man. But all that changed the second we got engaged. He transformed from the compassionate, empowering man who encouraged me to embrace my true self into a controlling jerk, molding me into his ideal Stepford wife and stripping away everything that made me who I am in the process

“So, what’s the plan?” Miles’s gruff voice finally asks. So far, we’ve only just driven past the town line, and while I know I need to figure this out, my brain refuses to give me any direction, as it can only focus on what I’d just done.

If I weren’t busy channeling my inner Julia Roberts inRunaway Bride,I’d be just minutes away from walking down the aisle. The day would have unfolded into hours of photoshoots, speeches, and celebration. Then, by tomorrow, we’d be en route to our honeymoon, starting what was supposed to be the rest of our lives together as Mr. and Mrs. West.

I should be panicking, but all I feel is relief. The only thing weighing heavily on my conscience is the fact that I left the task of relaying the news of my cold feet to Pete, my parents, and the whole town in the willing hands of Blair, and our other best friend, Ford.

“Would you hate me if I said I haven’t quite figured that out yet?” I ask, wrinkling my nose and biting down on my bottom lip, anticipating whatever snide remark he’s about to make.

It’s pretty well known that he enjoys throwing jabs my way, and despite my attempts to brush it off as harmless banter, I suspect he genuinely means it more often than not.

Instead, he lets out a loud sigh. “Well, just let me know when you decide.”

Am I imagining things, or is he genuinely being kind and patient with me? Sure, there’s a chance he’s only helping out of pity, but something about his calm demeanor feels... sincere? It’s oddly comforting, especially when I’m standing on the edge of what feels like a full-blown breakdown.

“I just—I don’t really want to be in Evergreen Grove right now. I’m not quite ready to run into anybody and have to open up about what’s been going on, but it’s not like I can just go on our honeymoon. It wasn’t even somewhere I wanted to go in the first place,” I ramble, animatedly lifting my hands as I speak. “And what if he decided he wanted it to be his getaway plan, too?” I ask, trying to suppress my body’s involuntary shudder. One more sign I’m making the right choice. Shouldn’t I want to be around the person I’m supposed to be marrying?

“Where was your honeymoon supposed to be?” Miles asks, his tone laced with curiosity rather than judgment.

His question catches me off guard. I’ve been bracing myself for a sharp retort, expecting him to call me out for running away and say that if I was bold enough to run, then I should be strong enough to face the repercussions. And while he wouldn’t exactly be wrong, I’m neither brave nor strong enough. I barely managed to run today, and that was only because of his sister’s help and encouragement

“Paris,” I admit, completely aware of how ridiculous I sound. Who doesn’t want to visit the city of love? Plus, it isn’t like Icompletely hated the idea of the trip. There are tons of museums there I’ve been dying to visit, and while they were on the agenda, for me, the idea of a perfect honeymoon is a place where you get to relax, have fun, and take advantage of the fact that you now get to spend some quality one-on-one time with your new spouse.

“And you didn’t want to go there?” he asks, sounding surprised as he glances over with a raised brow. “That sounds like it would be right up your alley.”

“I want to go to Paris, and it’s on my bucket list for sure. But when it came to our honeymoon, I hadn’t even been consulted. Pete just told me where we were going and had the entire itinerary planned down to where we were eating and staying with barely a second to stop and enjoy the fact that we were finally going to be Mr. and Mrs. West.”

“Well, if it were up to you, where would you have chosen to go?” he prods. I never would’ve expected for him to care—or really give a damn—and I’m still not sure he does, but given everything going on, I’ll take whatever distraction I can get.

“Honestly, I’m not that hard to please. A trip to Southern California where we hit up the beach and maybe a day trip to Disneyland, would have been more than enough for me. I don’t need fancy. I just wanted to spend the days lounging and enjoying my time with my new husband, not rushing around a new country without a second to breathe.” I’m aware I might sound ungrateful, but instead of judging me, the corners of Miles’s lips quirk up into a grin. “What?” I ask, not blind to the fact thatsomethingis going on in that brain of his. This seemingly nice-guy act of his can only last for so long—I’ve known him for too damn long to believe anything different.

“Please tell me you aren’t one of those Disney Adults. I know you loved Disneyland growing up, given how often you and yourfamily took Blair along with you, but for your honeymoon? You’d seriously choose Disney over Paris?”

I let out an indignant scoff. “There is nothing wrong with an adult enjoying some Disney magic. Even Walt Disney himself said that Disney is a place for children and adults to enjoy together.”

“Right...” He nods, though I can hear the judgement in his tone. Still, of all the things he could have teased me about, this is one I can easily handle. “So why not go and do that instead?” he suggests.

Now it’s my turn to be confused as I furrow my brow. “Do what?”

“Take the honeymoon you dreamed of. Go to California. Hit up the beach, go to Disneyland—live it up. After everything you’ve put up with from him, I’d say you deserve it,” he says, his voice steady as he continues to stare at the road ahead.

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