Page 38 of The Last Love Story
“I did. I got in early this morning and went right to Justin’s room. With a little help from Zoey. She gave me his room number.”
I throw my arms around him. “Thank you. Doing this without you… never would’ve felt right. Whatever happens, I want to look back and remember you walking me down the aisle. I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
I step back, and he smiles as he takes me in.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. I feel beautiful.”
“You should.”
“Hey, you didn’t mention this to Mom, did you?”
He shakes his head. “Definitely not. When will you tell her?”
“I don’t know. Probably tonight or tomorrow. You know how she is. I don’t want her thoughts or for her to nitpick at me today. Even though she’ll have something to say regardless.”
“Well, let it flow in one ear and out the other. She doesn’t define you. You define yourself.”
I smile at that. I am who I am because of how my dad raised me.
“Today, I’m a princess living my fairytale.”
“It’s an honor to be a part of it.” He holds out his elbow to me. “Shall we?”
“Let’s do it.”
He pulls open one of the chapel’s double doors, and as we walk inside, my mouth drops.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this.
It’s a small room with a few rows of white chairs. The walls and ceiling are covered with tulle curtains, making it feel bigger and more upscale—and taking away any sense that you’re in a hotel. Warm white strand lights add a lovely ambience to theroom. But it’s the large detail that has nothing to do with the hotel and everything to do with Justin that makes me tear up.
At the front of the aisle isn’t a typical altar or wedding arch. No. It’s the beautiful book arch from the signing. Now with added string lights, tulle, and flowers.
It’s my real world and my dream life colliding.
Justin stands in front of the book arch smiling at me, and I’m swept away in the whimsy of the moment and the peace in my heart.
I won’t just be happy if this is the only wedding I’ll ever get. Ihopethis is the only wedding I’ll ever have. Because nothing else could compare. And I’m starting to think no one else could ever compare to Justin.
“Are we ready?” the minister—or justice of the peace—asks.
Justin’s piercing gaze lands on me, and I nod.
Dad squeezes my arm.
This is all so strangely anti-climactic.
I thought I’d be nervous, but I’m calm.
Somewhere deep inside, I know this is the right decision, even if where it might lead is still unclear.
Justin watches every step, a huge smile on his face.
He’s such a golden retriever. Always happy—and he wants to make me happy.
