“Long enough to confirm that last night actually happened and I didn’t dream the whole thing.”
He opens his eyes then, and the way he looks at me—like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen—makes my heart skip. “It happened. All of it.”
“We’re really getting married today.”
“We’re really getting married today.” He leans over to kiss me, soft and sweet and perfect. “Good morning, future Mrs. Lawlor.”
“Good morning, future Mr. Hull-Lawlor.”
“Hull-Lawlor?”
“You have to admit it has a nice ring to it.”
Ben laughs, and the sound fills me with so much joy I think I might burst. This is what I’ve been missing all these months of fake dating and staged romance—the easy happiness, the natural connection that doesn’t require performance or calculation.
“What time is it?” he asks, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.
“Don’t look. I don’t want to think about schedules or timelines or any of the wedding logistics yet.”
“Freya, we’re getting married in…” He checks his phone anyway and sits up abruptly. “Six hours!”
“Don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking. I’m just processing. Six hours from now, you’ll be my wife.”
“Six hours from now, you’ll be my husband.”
We look at each other for a moment, both of us probably thinking the same thing—that this time yesterday, we were resigned to a fake marriage that would end in divorce. Now we’re about to promise each other forever, and we actually mean it.
“I should probably go home and get ready,” Ben says, though he makes no move to leave the bed. “Carson and Michelle will have complete breakdowns if I’m not where I’m supposed to be at the appointed time.”
“Probably. But also…” I trace patterns on his chest with my finger. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. It’s bad luck.”
“I think we’ve already had all the bad luck we’re going to get. We spent months, no years, lying to ourselves about how we felt.”
“True. But I still want to kick you out so I can get ready properly. I want you to see me walking down that aisle and remember this moment for the rest of our lives.”
Ben captures my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’m going to remember everything about today for the rest of our lives.”
“Good. Now get out of my apartment so I can transform into a bride.”
“Bossy already, and we’re not even married yet.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Lawlor.”
He gets dressed while I watch from bed, wrapped in my robe and already missing the warmth of him next to me. It’s ridiculous—he’s leaving for a few hours, not forever—but after years of wanting him and thinking I couldn’t have him, I don’t want to let him out of my sight.
“I’ll see you at the altar,” he says, leaning down to kiss me goodbye.
“Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
After he leaves, I lie in bed for exactly five more minutes, savoring the lingering scent of his cologne on my pillow and the reality that this is my wedding day. My real wedding day, to the man I’ve loved for half my life.
Then I spring into action.
I shower, wash my hair, and carefully apply the face mask the aesthetician recommended for wedding day glow. While it’s setting, I pack a bag with everything I’ll need at the venue—makeup, hair accessories, comfortable shoes for after the ceremony, and the jewelry Bella helped me pick out weeks ago.
