This is honestly the greatest day of my life. “Yes, yes, I do.”
And I plan to have her at my house permanently, sooner or later.
Chapter 44
Harper
As we stand outside the Starlight Manor, I let out a sigh. Why did I decide to come here? Oh, right—closure on the past.
“We don’t have to go inside, you know.”
I look at him and force a smile. “I need to do this.”
“Whatever you want.”
We step inside, and I can feel the surprise in the air. It’s not just me. It’s us. This chapter of my life is officially closed, and I need to show myself—and everyone else—that it no longer holds power over me.
Ford slips my jacket from my shoulders with careful hands, passing it to the coatroom attendant before turning back to me. His eyes travel slowly from my face down to my silver stilettos, then back up, lingering on the midnight-blue silk that hugs my waist before falling in a waterfall to my ankles. “You look astonishing, Harper,” he says, voice dropping half an octave.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I smooth my hands over the delicate beadwork scattered like stars across the bodice. The dress is more elegant than my usual wedding attire, a sleek column with a tasteful slit that shows just enough leg when I walk. For once, I’m not juggling camera equipment or crouching for the perfect angle. I’ve chosen something that makes me feel beautiful without sacrificing mobility. No trailing hemlines to trip over or plunging necklines threatening to reveal more than intended.
“It is pretty, isn’t it?”
He pulls me close and whispers, “It’ll look even better lying on the floor of the bedroom when we get home.”
The warmth returns to my face, and I giggle as he kisses me. Everything he says feels electric and intimate, like a scene from a movie.
“Harper! You came!” Dorothy exclaims, opening her arms for a hug.
As I embrace her, I feel a mix of awkwardness and longing. Even when tipsy, Dorothy always welcomed me. “Hi, Dorothy. You look beautiful.”
“And Ford, it’s good to see you, too.”
He hugs Asher’s mom, and she holds our hands. “You make a lovely couple.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “We should probably take our seats.”
“Pick anywhere. There are no sides or ushers.”
“Oh, okay,” I say.
The ballroom is set for the ceremony, and it’s stunning. Merlot and white shimmer from every surface, crystal vases catching the light, tiny fairy lights woven through garlands along the aisle. Even the chair covers have the exact wine-colored satin sashes I’d specified in my original plans.
But instead of the white peonies and hydrangeas I’d chosen, lilies spill from every arrangement. At least she didn’t replicate everything.
Programs sit on the chairs, and Ford gasps when he reads his. “What?” I ask, grabbing the one from my seat and staring in horror. “Alex and Tracy.”
Across the top, it reads THE WEDDING OF ASHER ANDREWS AND HARPER WALLACE, with my name crossed out and KENZIE MARKS written in its place.Handwritten.
“And I’m cut out, too,” he says, pointing to the scratched-out name under BEST MAN.
“I’m kind of scared to see what else they’ve done,” I admit.
“If nothing else, it should be entertaining.”
My stomach tightens, and I shift closer to Ford. He drapes his arm along the back of my chair, his thumb finding the bare skin of my upper arm. The gentle circles he traces there send a flutter through me, like coming home after a long journey.
Behind the heavy burgundy curtain at the front of the room, a familiar silhouette appears. Asher’s face emerges just enough for me to catch the hard set of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes as they lock onto Ford’s hand on my skin. I press my fingertips against Ford’s thigh, a silent alert, and tilt my chin toward the curtain.
