Ella smooths her hair, regaining composure. “My number one piece of advice is to take your time. With everything.”
Addison nods earnestly. “Yes, and don’t have expectations. None. Zero. Seriously.”
“I—okay,” I stutter. “That’s…good. Thank you. I’ll…keep that in mind.”
Then I look at Karissa. Which is a big mistake.
She smirks mischievously. “Eye contact.”
My jaw drops open. Ella loses it laughing, clapping like this is the best moment of her life. Addison’s hands fly to her face in pure horror.
“She didnotjust say that.” Addison groans from behind her fingers.
“Oh, c’mon, Addie.” Ella nudges her, giggling. “Be mature.”
“Iambeing mature,” Addison insists. “Butyoutwo are forgetting”—she points dramatically at Ella, then at Karissa—“you are married to brothers.Mybrothers. I donotwant details.”
Karissa shrugs, unapologetic. “Well, I didn’t give any details…I just saideye contact.”
“Karissa!” Addison yells again.
Ella’s wheezing. I’m mortified. And somehow…this is the most Jennings family moment I’ve ever been part of.
By the time we rejoin everyone else, something inside me feels…lighter. The stress isn’t gone but it’s different now. Like someone cracked open a window in a hot room.
I needed that laugh. That ridiculous, embarrassing, blush-until-I-die moment outside the church bathroom.
A reminder that, yes, tomorrow is a big day. A holy, sacred, life-changing day. But it doesn’t have to feel so stiff or formal or perfect. I don’t need to stress over every little detail. I don’t need to hold my breath until the ceremony starts.
At the end of the day, it’s about marrying Mason.
Becoming one under God. Living a life that reflects Him. Together.
All the other stuff? The flowers, the seating chart, the dresses, the rehearsal chaos? It’s just noise in the background.
Mason’s leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked in his pockets, the evening light catching the edge of his jaw. When he sees me, his face changes subtly, like he’s checking, without a word, if I’m alright.
The girls walk past him, and he pushes off the frame and meets me halfway. I slip my hand into his, and his fingers curl around mine.
“Good?” he asks. His gaze settles on me—the sweet kind first, then the deeper kind.
“More than good,” I murmur.
Because suddenly…I am.
* * *
I can’t sleep. My room feels too quiet, too heavy with tomorrow waiting on the other side of morning. I curl on my side, staring at the wall, replaying every detail in my head, even though three hours ago I told myself I wasn’t gonna do that. But now I’m thinking about it all again—how I’ll walk, how I’ll smile, how Mason will look standing at the altar.
Somewhere between the nerves and the excitement, my mind drifts back to the night he asked me to marry him.
It wasn’t fancy, not the way movies make it. No string lights or photographers hiding in the bushes. Just in a field, by a fence, sunset in the background, and Mason pacing like he’d forgotten how to stand still.
The sky was painted streaks of orange and pink; the kind of sunset that makes Bellamy look like a postcard. When he asked me to get out of the truck, I thought he wanted to take a picture or dance by the way he smirked at me, but it was more than that.
“I know we haven’t been together that long,” he said. “Some people are gonna say it’s too fast. Maybe it is. But, Meg, I’veknown since that first night I picked you up from your place that I wasn’t gonna let you go anywhere.”
My heart stopped. The world narrowed down to his voice, his hand, the steady way he looked at me now.
