Unless he’s too busy banging yet another woman for all of TikTok to see.
But before I can say a word, the deep voice of a man interrupts. “I’m right here.”
CHAPTER 39
Ava
I instantly catch a glimpse of a man so well put together that he instantly takes control of the room without even trying.
His tie is straight again, his hair smoothed back. I hate how easily I register every detail, the scowl that never quite fades, the small bouquet in his hands. Mostly marigolds.
But it’s his eyes that undo me. The blue is washed out and red-rimmed.
Pain lives in every line of him, and all I want is to erase it.
“I just needed a minute,” he says again.
He guides me into position, gentle but sure, then points to the flowers in his hand.
“I figured they could Photoshop in something big and ostentatious later.” His mouth tightens. “But it didn’t feel right. You shouldn’t be married without this.”
It’s all for show.
Still, my mouth curves up. At the thoughtfulness. At the fact that he picked every one of these from the back lot of a church. Some of them were probably yanked right out of the parking lot cracks.
My hand finds his, and I squeeze. “Thank you.”
“I’ve got you, Pix,” he murmurs.
I love that he said it. I’d love it even more if it didn’t sound so excruciating for him to say.
I think we’re about to begin when the priest clears his throat.
“The rings?”
The rings…
This is usually the point on set when Kali would be losing her ever-loving shit, shouting, “Miss Alvarez cannot work like this.”
Which is ridiculous. Of course, I can work like this.
Blankly, we all stare at each other.
“Rings aren’t really important for this, right?” I say, snapping my fingers. “We could improvise.” I brighten. “Find something that works.”
Unconvinced, the priest looks around as Chad searches his pockets. I’m so afraid of what he’ll pull out.
Then, the priest raises a finger. “I think I might have something…”
He moves quickly to the table where he’d been lighting candles, reaches underneath, and comes back with a small box.
Inside are dozens of rings. All identical.
Harrison lifts one and presses it between his fingers.
It bends.
“Are these silicone?” he asks.
