Page 14 of Third Time Lucky

Madi rolls her eyes. ‘Stop expecting the worst, Luce. Like he wouldn’t show, he’s obsessed with you.’

‘As he should be, this is forever,’ Dad says.

He’s very protective of me. When Brandon asked him for my hand in marriage (Dad expected it), he had a list of questions to be answered before he gave his approval, along with a stern ‘if you hurt her, I’ll kill you’ warning. Hopefully, that last part won’t be necessary.

‘They’re so adorable together. I’m going to be a sobbing mess up there,’ Madi says.

‘That makes two of us,’ Dad says, pulling his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at his eyes. He shoves it back in his pocket, then takes me aside to speak without other ears listening in. A daddy-daughter moment, you could say.

‘Sweetie, it’s normal to be nervous at your wedding,’ he reassures me. ‘So normal, they’ve got a name for it – cold feet. My advice is to wear thick socks and not overthink things. Follow your heart, Lucy – it always knows what to do.’

If it was only that easy.

I nod; thankful he’s always on my side.

With a hand on my chest, my eyes closed for focus, I practice my breathing for a few.

Brandon loves me unconditionally. He tells me all the time. I’ve got nothing to worry about.I repeat the words my therapist concocted to help with my wedding anxieties until I hear a knock on the suite door.

‘Floral!’ someone calls.

‘Good! The actual flowers are here! I’ve been dying to see them,’ Mitzi says, flittering her eighty-year-old self to the door and allowing the florists in to deliver bouquets.

I don’t even know what they look like because she picked them. She planned almost every detail of this wedding while I worried about everything else. Luckily, I trust her judgment.

According to her stories, Mitzi was a ritzy socialite way back in the sixties, before they were cool. She’s mingled with the stars for most of her young life, throwing lavish parties that national news has reported on. She’s slowed down over the years, but I trust that this wedding will be the talk of the year because of her. She’s also the one who got the magazine interested. Without Mitzi, my life would be boring because I didn’t inherit her outgoing personality. In truth, I’d have been OK with the discounted dress and just the two of us on a beach in Hawaii. But I’ve agreed to this and it’s too late to turn back now.

4

LUCY

Not even an hour later, we’re standing in the nearly empty hall, waiting for the wedding planners to open the doors and reveal us to the room.

‘What if I’m making a mistake? What if he leaves in a month? Or worse,dies?’ I whisper the words I didn’t want to say out loud to my father.

He’s holding my hand to the crook of his arm, patting it softly.

‘Everybody dies, sweetie, but I promise no one is dying today. I know you’ve been traumatized, but I think it must be fate that Kris’ best friend unexpectedly showed up on your wedding day. A sign he’s always with you. It’s OK to move on – he’d want you to.’

I nod, thankful he’s able to read my mind because if I attempt to speak, I’ll lose it. He’s right, though; itisOK to move on. It’s time. Kris would want me to be happy, that much I know. I pull the tissue hidden in my gown, dabbing at the corners of my eyes.

Dreaming of marrying your boyfriend as a teenager is ridiculous, but something I did well. After his death, he haunted me for a long time. So, when Brandon first proposed, I said no – out of fear of losing him unexpectedly like I did Kris. But after therapy and working through some things, the second time was the charm, and here we are, about to tie the knot in front of family, friends, Vegas, and everyone who readsHere Comes the Bridemagazine. Despite my past, I live a life every girl wants; I can’t overlook that.

‘You ready?’ Dad asks.

My head’s ready. My heart…mightbe. I can’t figure it out, but the hesitation between the two is maddening. Like something’s wrong, but I don’t know what it could be? It’s got about ten minutes to figure itself out.

I blow out a shaky breath. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

The doors open, and the room stands as the music changes to a classical piece played by actual stringed musicians. Oohs and aahs fill the room as we walk, and inside, my heart thumps almost audibly. I plaster on a smile at beaming faces, some of which I know, but most of which I do not. God, there are a lot of people here.

Suddenly, one stands out: Asher. He came! I give him a slight wave.

Until now, when he’s crossed my mind, he’s been eighteen years old and taking me on a pity date. Now he’s a grown man, taller than I remember, and handsome with his chiseled jawline, complemented by a neatly groomed five o’clock shadow. He’s got the same sandy brown hair cut short, with more green than brown hazel eyes that sparkle like gemstones under the Vegas lights, and cute half-moon crinkles parenthesize his smile. I knew him immediately. It was sort of comforting to see someone from my past. Besides my family, he’s the person who knows the pain we both went through when losing Kris.

Today, his smile is soft and a little unsure, and I’d bet money he’s experiencing the same thing I am in the pit of his stomach – nostalgia mixed with grief. Did anyone ever think I’d get here? Certainly not me.

‘You look beautiful,’ Brandon says in a whisper when we make it to the front of the room.

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