The words echo, wild and heavy in my chest. It should feel magical, exciting—like a fairytale coming true. And in some ways, it does.
But in the quiet of this oversized hotel room, fear creeps in like a shadow under the door.
Tomorrow, everything changes.
Not just my last name or the way people look at us. Not just the ceremony or the rings.
Everything.
Because being his girlfriend, his fiancée, even his lover—those all came with a sense of freedom, of motion. But a wife? That feels rooted. Permanent. Real in a way that scares the hell out of me.
I got used to having him by my side, to the way his body fits against mine like we were made to sleep tangled in each other’s warmth. Now that he’s not here, I can’t sleep.
The bed feels too big.
Too cold.
Too empty.
Frustrated, I toss the sheets back and get up. The city lights glimmer beyond the hotel window, but I don’t care. I need to get this out.
I pull out a crisp sheet of paper and sit at the little desk. If I can’t say it—if the words catch in my throat—I’ll write them down. Pour my thoughts, fears, and love into ink.
The pen glides across the page as I write to him—about how much he changed me. How terrified I was to love him. How even now, part of me wonders if I’m enough. But mostly, I write that I choose him. Every day. For the rest of my life.
When I’m done, I fold it neatly and seal the envelope, pressing my fingers to it like a prayer. My gaze shifts to my phone.
Is he asleep?
Is he thinking about me?
Is he scared too?
I crawl back under the covers and eventually, sleep finds me around 2 a.m., but it’s light and restless. Before I know it, the early morning alarm blares, and I jolt up, heart racing. No time for long dreams or slow awakenings. The makeup artist and hairstylist will be here soon, and I need to be human before then.
I’m stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped around my head, when my phone pings.
Nate: Can’t wait to see you. I missed you so fucking much, Izzy.
My heart swells and clenches at the same time.
Me: A couple more hours, love. And I’ll be yours.
Because I will be his—soul, mind, and body. In all the ways that count.
A loud knock makes me flinch, and I drop my phone with a gasp. It clatters to the floor just as I bolt toward the door in my bathrobe, heart pounding.
“I’m coming!” I shout, slipping slightly on the marble as I run.
When I swing the door open, I barely have time to react—Nate pulls me into his arms, lifts me off the floor, and kisses me like the world is ending.
His mouth is hot, desperate, familiar.
“Nate…” I gasp, struggling to breathe, his scent crashing into me. “You—what are you?—?”
“I couldn’t wait,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine. “I’m sorry. I needed to see you. Isabel, I want?—”
“What are you doing here?!” Alice’s voice cuts the moment like a whip.
