“Daddy,” she says through a huge smile and he softens in front of her. I move up to the mirror and take a good look at myself as they exchange a private father-daughter moment, Joey joining me at my side. My hair is pinned up into an elegant twist, a few pieces pulled out and tucked behind my ears, which are adorned with the amber stud earrings Juls gifted us with this morning. My makeup is sophisticated but subtle, a light dusting of rose lip-gloss that I’m somehow managing to pull off without looking like I belong on a street corner, and my dress is perfect, hugging me across my chest and showing a classy amount of cleavage if there ever was such a thing. I feel Joey’s hand on my lower back.
“Look at us. We almost look too good for this wedding. I’m afraid we might just upstage the bride,” he whispers as we both glance over at Juls who is hugging her father.
“Not a chance,” I say and he nods in agreement. Mr. Wicks backs away from his daughter and turns toward all of us.
“It’s time people. Let’s move this along before I lock my daughter in this room and refuse to let Ian have her.” We all giggle at his comment, hearing the hint of seriousness in his tone as we file out of the bridal suite and down the back staircase that leads toward a hidden area where we’re supposed to line up. I haven’t seen the inside of the church since we arrived here hours ago and I’m a bit nervous at the number of people in attendance who will be watching me walk up the aisle. My heels are insanely high, dark brown sling backs that I’ve scuffed the bottoms of to prevent any major slip up. But I’m still nervous about walking in them. Karma could easily give me a right shove in the back and send me falling flat on my face, given the amount of hate she’s shown me lately. All this animosity. And for what? Because I fell in love with a man who only cared about fucking me? Nice, Karma. Way to stick with your fellow woman.
We line up in order behind the double mahogany doors and wait patiently for them to open, the soft sound of violins streaming through the air. Another decision on Ian’s part. The man apparently loves classical music. I clutch my beautiful bouquet in my hands, grateful to have something to hold on to as the doors slowly open in front of Brooke. My view is blocked entirely by Joey’s massive frame, but I feel him. I always feel him. And I know as soon as I start walking, my eyes are going to lock on to his and I’m going to give in to it. Whatever. I just have one more day to endure and then I can go back to my shitty life. I turn around and spot Juls who is smiling at me, eyes gleaming and hand tightly looped through her father’s arm. I give her a quick wink before I turn slowly and step forward, seeing Joey make his way toward the middle pews. It’s now my cue to start walking, but I can’t. My eyes have locked on to the most glorious sight I’ve ever seen and he’s standing, waiting for me at the front of the altar in a tux. Holy fucking shit.
I know I’m supposed to be moving; I’ve walked up this aisle before. I just accomplished the feat last night. But I’m stuck. My two feet won’t budge an inch and I hear the muffled voices of people around me wondering what the hell is going on. Joey is up at the front, motioning for me to start moving and Brooke is trying desperately not to crack up laughing. Meanwhile, Reese is staring at me, eyes burning into mine and I’m melting on the spot. I’ve never seen him look this handsome before and I’m suddenly regretting everything. The break up, the fact I agreed to be a part of this wedding, the shirt I kept. Everything. I force out a shaky breath and glance quickly back at Juls who is trying to remain calm but coming apart slowly. Her father is staring at me and looks unsure what to do as I clutch my bouquet tightly and shut my eyes. Jesus Christ, Dylan. You need to move. Just start walking and you’ll be up there before you know it. I shake my head and open my eyes, and if I was unable to breathe before I closed them, I’ve completely forgotten how to work my lungs now.
Reese is making his way down the aisle toward me, purpose in each step and eyes glued on mine as everyone watches him and who he’s walking toward. My lips part and I shift on my feet as he reaches my side, grabbing my hand and looping it through his arm. And without saying a word, he begins walking me up the aisle, earning a few sounds of amusement from the crowd, and smiling politely at them. I’m deposited on my step and he drops my hand, leaving an emptiness inside me as he returns to his place across from me. Our eyes meet briefly and I smile weakly at him, seeing his lip curl up slightly as the wedding march song begins to play.