Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Only if you’re saying yes,” I murmur.
“I’m saying yes,” she says. Louder this time.
Our friends and family applaud as I guide her toward the spot where we’re going to say our vows, by the courtyard’s gorgeous concrete fountain.
Lucy steps forward and hands her a small bouquet, kissing her on the cheek.
Pastor Dan lifts his hands to quiet the laughter and applause, and Annabelle and I turn to face him, hands still locked like if one of us lets go, the moment might vanish.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, glancing at the small crowd of friends now gathered in a semicircle. “We are gathered here tonight, at this very expensive resort I could never afford—so thank you to the happy couple for my stay”—everyone laughs at that—“to witness the union of two beautiful people who drunkenly crashed a wedding, were married by me, and decided, ‘You know what? Let’s run it back, but legally this time, with paperwork and everything.’”
Laughter ripples through the group. Annabelle snorts and covers her mouth.
“Usually,” Pastor Dan goes on. “People vow to love each other for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health. But these two already did the hard part backward. They got hitched without knowing one another, survived living together in the hot Arizona sun—with zero planning—and now they’re choosing each other again, hopefully with fewer tequila shots.”
Harris coughs loudly. “No promises!”
“Before we get to the paperwork and the kiss that seals you for eternity, the bride’s best friend has a few words for the happy couple.”
Lucy steps forward in her strappy heels, already tearing up. She fans her face with the paper in her hands. “Ugh! I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. And then I remembered who I am, so I’m wearing waterproof mascara.”
Annabelle giggles and dabs under her eyes.
Lucy takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “I knew this day would come, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought it would be like this.” She exhales, holding that paper in front of her, staring down at it. “I had all these things prepared that I wanted to say, but nothing . . .” Her lip trembles. “I love you so much.”
Lucy straightens the slightly crumpled page, doing her best to keep it together.
“Annabelle, I’ve seen you cry over a really good grilled cheese, but I’ve never known you to be as into anyone as you’re into him.” She looks at me. “And I mean that as the highest compliment—because I’ve never seen you so brave. So fully, terrifyingly, wonderfully in it.
“Harris and I love you both so much, and despite the circumstances—or because of them—we now get to enjoy the fact that our two best friends are getting married and are going to be in our lives forever.”
Lucy waves the paper like a white flag. “That’s all. I love you both. Now somebody pass me a tissue before my fake eyelashes end up on my chin.”
Pastor Dan chuckles and clears his throat. “Thank you, Lucy. I think we’re all crying now—on the inside, at least.” He looks at me, then at Annabelle. “Now I want to invite the bride and groom to say a few words to each other. Annabelle, I know you didn’t have time to prepare, but you’re welcome to speak from the heart or wing it entirely. We listen, we don’t judge.”
I can practically see her soul leave her body for a brief second as she panics, so I jump in first.
“Okay, I’ll go before she leaps into the fountain.” I turn to face her and instantly regret how watery my eyes feel. I suck in a breath. “Hi.”
Our friends laugh.
“Look,” I begin. “I could stand here and quote poetry or Shakespeare or have googled the perfect wedding speech, because the truth is, I’m not great with words. I’m better with actions, and I think the first act of showing you how much I care was not kicking you out of the cottage on Star Lake.”
More laughter. “The second I saw you sleeping in that hammock and heard you snoring, I was smitten.”
“I was not snoring!”
She actually was, and the look on her face makes teasing her worth it.
“You’re smart. You’re stubborn. You talk with your hands and somehow never finish a full cup of coffee,” I go on. “Every time I think I’ve seen the best of you, you do something else that makes me fall harder. You take up space, Annabelle, in my heart, in my life, in my freaking bathroom with your billion hair products—and I wouldn’t change any of it.”
Her eyes are watery now, and mine are too.
“I want all of it. The chaos, the mornings you’re grumpy, the weird pregnancy cravings, the moments when you doubt everything—because I’ll be there for every single one. As your husband. Your best friend. And your backup. We’ll figure it out together. With the help of our friends and family.”