For the first time in twenty years, Nicole felt whole.
Chapter26
The chapel looked smaller than she remembered.White clapboard walls glowed in the lantern light, the stained-glass windows reflecting a dozen flickering votives.The pews smelled of polish and old wood, the faint scent of lilies drifting from bouquets Paige had managed to charm out of the florist.
It was the same chapel where she and Tripp had stood twenty years ago, trembling with the thrill of first love, reckless enough to believe it was enough.The place where it had all begun, and where it had all been stolen.
Tonight, she was taking it back.
Her girlfriends were everywhere, orchestrating chaos.Paige stood at the front pew, water glass in hand like a queen’s scepter.“Amanda, those ribbons are a disaster.Fix them.Jennifer, for the love of God, straighten that veil.And Crystal, stop waddling like a martyr.Sit down before you topple.”
Crystal ignored her, belly-first, directing the placement of flowers with the authority of a general.“Left.More left.Yes, good.Perfect.”
Amanda stuck her tongue out.“Bossy pregnant people are terrifying.”
Nicole laughed softly, the sound shaky but real.“You’re all insane.”
“Insanely devoted,” Paige said smugly.“Now quit fussing.You’ve got bigger things to worry about.Like marrying the man you never stopped loving.”
Nicole’s throat tightened.Her heart thumped so hard, she thought it might burst right out of her chest.
Tonight felt different, sacred, as if this was the night that would stitch everything back together.The past, the future, their very lives seemed to converge in this single moment.It felt better than their first wedding, richer, though touched with the strangeness of all they had endured to get here.And she loved every fragile, beautiful second of it.
It wasn’t a beginning or an ending, it was coming home.
Then her parents entered quietly.Her father looked older, his shoulders stooped, but his eyes, when they met hers, were filled with something she hadn’t seen in years: pride.
Her father stepped forward, voice rough.“Nicole… may I, may I walk you down the aisle this time?”
Tears pricked hot behind her eyes.She had dreamed of this moment, but never thought it would come.“Yes,” she whispered.“Please.”
It felt right, like the first fragile step toward forgiveness.
Her father’s voice softened, carrying the weight of years they’d all lost.“You know, Tripp came to your mother and me and asked for your hand in marriage.And we told him we were thrilled.It’s time to put the past behind us and heal, Nicole.Time for you and Tripp to create your future together.And I can’t wait to see the grandchildren you’ll give us.”
The words cracked something open inside her.A sob slipped past her throat, raw and unguarded.He was right.It was time, time to stop bleeding from old wounds, to step into the future with Tripp, and finally leave the past where it belonged.
She wouldn’t let the past steal one more day of their future.
Her father’s grip was steady when she slid her hand into the crook of his arm.He leaned close, his words a confession.“I’m sorry, Nic.For the money.For the lies.For letting them tear you apart.We thought we were protecting you.We weren’t.We were cowards.”
Her tears spilled freely now.“I know, Daddy.And I forgive you.”
Her mother’s hand trembled as she pressed a handkerchief into Nicole’s free hand.“You look beautiful, sweetheart.Don’t mess up your makeup crying.”
“I don’t think I can keep from crying.This day has been so long in arriving.”
Music began, Amanda’s phone hooked to a tiny speaker, and the small crowd rose.Nicole took her first step down the aisle, her father beside her, and there was Tripp waiting at the altar.
He looked devastatingly handsome in his simple suit, his tie loose, his eyes locked on hers as though no one else existed.Her knees nearly gave beneath her, but her father held her steady.
Step by step, she walked toward the man she had loved since she was sixteen.
Her father squeezed her hand, then placed it in Tripp’s.
“Take care of her,” he said softly.
“I will,” Tripp vowed, his voice breaking.
