Love strong and deeply.
And know I’ll always love you.
Yours Always,
Mitchell
“I love you, Mitchell,” I whisper as I fold the paper carefully. “Always.”
Moments of our time together flash through my mind, playing like a sped-up movie reel. So much love. So much happiness. Then the grief of knowing I’d lost him forever.
I lift Angelo’s envelope and close my eyes as I tear open the paper.
Tilly,
As you walk down the aisle today, know I’m only looking forward to our future. Although our dark pasts have brought us together, forging a love and understanding no other two people can fathom, our souls will be joined eternally in love and happiness.
Our pasts define us. We cannot wipe away what happened or forget about what we’ve lost. Mitchell and Marissa will always be a part of who we are and the guiding force that has brought us together.
Today, I take you as my wife, making you mine forever and giving myself to you completely. Not only am I giving you my soul, but my family too. Tate and Brax are completely in love with you, and I know you’ll love them as if they were your own.
I will always protect you from anyone who wishes you harm, and shelter you as best I can from any pain until I take my last breath.
Thank you for coming into my life and opening your heart, showing me that love is possible again. I thought my heart died that day, but you’ve brought me back to life and made me whole again.
Now, come to me, my love. We have a future to live.
I love you, Tilly.
Yours,
Angelo
I’m almost hyperventilating, barely able to make out the final line with my vision filled with tears. How is a girl supposed to walk down the aisle and not look like a hot mess after two letters like that? It’s impossible.
I let the tears fall, allowing the sadness of Mitchell’s words to seep into my veins before embracing Angelo’s wishes for what our future holds.
“Oh shit. Honey, this is a code red,” Martin says as he sashays into the room, holding a makeup bag that’s bigger than most carry-ons. “You need to stop, or I’ll never be able to fix this.” He places his hand on my chin, moving my face side to side.
“Is it that bad?” I sniffle like it’s somehow going to make all my puffiness disappear.
Martin grimaces. “No. It’s doable,” he lies.
I close my eyes and groan. “I look awful.”
Martin places the bag on the floor and kneels before me. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he says softly.
I open my eyes and glance at the man sitting in front of me, who, by the way, has eyelashes every girl would envy.
“You are beautiful, and when you walk out of this room, you’ll look fierce.”
I want to argue. Fierce isn’t exactly the look I was going for on my wedding day, but I guess it’s better than a puffy hot mess, which I no doubt look like now.
“Do your magic.” I muster a smile.
Ten minutes later, Martin hands me a mirror and stares at me. “I should win an award for this masterpiece,” he says with the biggest smile.
I stare at myself, unable to believe the work he’s just done. I barely look like I’ve shed a tear. “You’re a genius.”
