“Fuck. Why the fuck can’t we catch a mother fucking, break? I swear some son of bitch cosmic fucker is out to ruin this for us.” I grit through my teeth. “What are we going to do?”
“Leave it to me,” Amy huffs. “I need you to get over to Hope's parents' house right now.”
“Why? Wha?—”
“Your fiancée is losing her shit, Frost. She's upstairs crying, convinced the wedding is cursed, and she needs you. So, get your ass over here, and be there for her while I fix this mess.”
I pause briefly and grab my keys, heading toward the door. “I'm on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Good. And Frost? Don't let her spiral. Keep her calm. I've got this.”
“You sure?”
“Have I ever let her down?”
“No,” I admit. “Never.”
“Then trust me.” Amy ends the call before I can respond or ask anymore questions.
The ride to Hope's parents' place feels like it takes forever, even though I push past every speed limit. The rain's still coming down. It’s lighter now, but steady, and my mind is racing. This is a nightmare. All I can think about is Hope falling apart without me there.
I pull up to the house, kill the engine, and take the front steps two at a time. Hope's mom opens the door before I can knock, her face pale and worried.
“She's upstairs,” she says quietly. “Second door on the right.”
I nod, already moving past her. The stairs creak under my boots, and when I reach the second floor, I can hear muffled voices. Hope's mom and dad must’ve followed me up, but they stay back, giving us space. I push open the door to what's clearly Hope's childhood bedroom.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, surrounded by chaos, is Hope. Her hair's pulled back in a messy bun, and her eyes are red-rimmed. The hideous pink dress is draped over a chair, and rain streaks down the window behind her, encompassing the mood we’re both feeling.
She looks up when I walk in, and her face crumples.
“Frost, you can't be here,” she says, voice breaking. “It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”
I can't help it, I laugh. It's a dark, rough sound, but it's genuine. “Darlin’,” I say, crossing the room to her. “We’ve already had all the bad luck any couple can handle. I think we're good.”
She lets out a shaky breath, and I drop to my knees in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “You're here.” She rests her forehead against mine
“Of course, I'm here.” I squeeze her hands. “Where else would I be?”
She pulls back to look at me, tears spilling over, and I reach up to brush them away with my thumb. “We'll figure this out,” I tell her. “I promise.”
“How?” She gestures around the room. “The dress is wrong, the venue's destroyed, we don't have anyone to marry u?—”
“Then we'll find another dress,” I say. “We'll move it inside somewhere. It fucking sucks, but it’ll work out.”
She shakes her head. “There's no time. The wedding's supposed to be in four hou?—”
“Hope.” I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “Listen to me. We can get in my truck right now, drive to Vegas, and get married at a wedding chapel. I don't care about the details. I don't care about the venue, the flowers, or anything. All I care about is marrying you today.”
Her breath hitches. “You mean that?”
“Every word.” I lean in and press my lips to hers, putting all my love into the kiss. I pull away first. “I just want to be your husband. That's it, that's all that matters.”
For the first time since I walked in, she laughs. “Okay,” she says. “As long as it's not by an Elvis impersonator.”
I grin. “I can't make any promises.”
She laughs again, harder this time, and wraps her arms around my neck. I pull her close, holding her tight, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just us. Her heartbeat against my chest and her breath warm against my neck.
