She hugs me tightly, her voice cracking near my ear. “I know it goes against everything you believe, but arranged marriages… sometimes they’re the ones that surprise you the most. Because love doesn't always follow a script. Sometimes, it sneaks up on you and takes root where you least expect it.”
My heart swells at her words. She’s right. This was never part of the plan—but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
I step into the bedroom and reach for the drawer, pulling out the letter I wrote for Nate last night. My confession. My truth.
“Alice.” I turn to her with urgency. “Could you take this to Nathan? It’s… it’s important.”
Before she can take it, Grace snatches it with a playful smirk. “I’ll do it. I’m heading to him right now anyway.” She gives me a wink and walks off before I can protest.
I watch the door close behind her, the letter still in her hand, my heart pounding in my ears.
Chapter 18
Nate
I’ve faced death. I’ve stood in burning buildings, heard ceilings crack above my head, felt the blistering heat of flames licking at my back. And yet nothing—nothing—has ever made my hands shake like this.
I pace the length of the room, again and again, trying to tame the wild rhythm of my heart. It’s like a ticking bomb under my ribs. I glance at the clock. Time is crawling, slower than I thought possible. I need to see her. I need to look into Isabel’s eyes and remind myself this is real. That she chose me. That somehow, after everything, I get to call her mine.
“Dude,” Sebastian’s voice breaks through my spiral “you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”
I stop, pressing a hand to my chest. “I can’t calm down.”
Sebastian throws himself into a chair, legs stretched out, his posture the exact opposite of mine—relaxed, teasing, obnoxiously at ease. “Big tough army hero can’t handle a little wedding?” he grins. “I’ve seen you run into buildings with more chill than you have right now.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, tugging at my tie. It feels too tight, like it’s strangling me, but I know it’s not the tie—it’s the weight of everything. The moment. The love.
“Want me to go out and start a small fire? Or maybe ask K to shoot at someone?” he smirks, wiggling his brows like the devil himself. The worst part? I know he means it. And K, his shadow of a bodyguard, would probably hand him the lighter and load the damn gun.
I narrow my eyes. “I’m just waiting for your turn to come,” I fire back, voice like ice. “And when it does, I’m going to savor every damn second of giving you hell for it.”
“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, throwing up his hands. “Seriously, man. You’ve got this. She loves you. You love her. You’re basically living the dream. Why the hell are you acting like you’re about to puke?”
“Because this isn’t just a wedding.” I finally stop. My voice is raw. “It’s her. And I don’t want to screw this up. I’ve made a mess of so many things in my life, Sebastian. And now the mission is looming and this… Isabel… She’s the one thing I want to get right.”
He quiets at that, nodding with more sincerity now. “Then you will and she will wait for you.”
But the knot in my chest doesn’t loosen.
The door creaks open and my mom steps in. She’s glowing—elegant in her dress, eyes misty the moment she looks at me.
“Nathan,” she says softly, her voice full of awe, “you’re so handsome.”
I offer her a strained smile. “Thanks, Mom. Have you seen Isabel?”
A knowing smile curves her lips. “Yes, and she’s breathtaking. Absolutely radiant.” She steps closer and slips something into my hand. “Actually, Isabel told me to give you this.”
It’s an envelope. I stare at it for a beat before ripping it open, my hands suddenly clumsy. Inside, a single line written in her unmistakable handwriting:
‘A life by your side is all I’m dreaming of because I’m madly in love with you.’
My breath catches. The room vanishes. The nerves, the fear, the walls I’d unknowingly built around my heart—they all fall away in an instant. I press the letter to my lips, then fold it carefully and tuck it into the inside pocket of my dress uniform, over my heart.
“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper, voice hoarse.
She fixes my tie, smooths a hand down my jacket, then hooks her arm through mine. “Let’s go, son. It’s almost time for you to see your bride.”
And just like that, the nervousness morphs into something else—something stronger. Purpose. Love. The kind that makes your hands shake while your spine straightens.
