Page 40 of The Hang Up
None of that compares to how nervous I am right now.
I tug at the cuffs of my shirt. My collar feels too tight even though Wade already loosened it. The barn we rented for the wedding buzzes with activity—flowers being placed, chairs adjusted, music tested—but all I can hear is my heartbeat.
“She’s not going to change her mind, you know.”
I turn toward Wade’s voice. He’s leaning against the wall behind me, arms crossed, tie already loosened. Typical.
“I know that,” I mutter, even though I’ve thought about it approximately eighty-five times this morning.
He grins. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I might,” I admit. “But only after I say, ‘I do.’”
Wade claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve loved that girl since high school, man. You’re not just ready. You were built for this.”
I swallow hard and nod, the lump in my throat suddenly too big to ignore.
He straightens my boutonnière and adds, “Plus, if you screw this up, Auden will kill you.”
That earns a short laugh from me. “Terrifying woman.”
“Absolutely.”
There’s a knock on the doorframe, and Ray sticks his head in. “It’s time.”
Everything in me stills.
Time.
Time to marry Lena.
Time to make her mine in every possible way.
Time to begin forever.
I walk out into the barn, the wooden archway decorated with wildflowers and linen, the rows of chairs filled with our closest friends and family. The sun filters through the open doors behind us, casting everything in a golden glow.
It smells like lavender and lemon and sawdust from the beams above.
I stand at the altar, fingers twitching at my sides.
And then the music shifts.
Everyone stands.
And there she is.
Lena.
In a simple white dress that clings to her like a second skin, her hair half up and soft around her face, flowers woven through the curls. Her bouquet trembles slightly in her hands, but her eyes? They’re steady.
Locked on mine.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t think.
She’s everything.
