We decided to forego the formal vows, the old clichédto have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and all that. We’re making a promise, and we both know what we’re promising.
“I do,” I say, and Tatum’s lips tip up into a smile.
God, I can’t wait to kiss her.
“And do you, Tatum, take Ford to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She opens her mouth to form the words just as we all hear the front door as it’s thrown open and a voice yells, “Wait!” The figure is silhouetted against the light coming in from the front door, but I’d know that voice anywhere.
And as he rushes up the aisle to where we are, it’s confirmed.
“Archer!” Tatum gasps. “What are you doing here?”
He’s panting. “Tell me I made it on time. Tell me you didn’t go through with this.”
I’m still holding her hands in mine while my brother tells her not to marry me.
She glances at me, her eyes full of horror, before she turns back to him.
Nobody knows what to say.
A million thoughts race through my head. I should come up with something, anything, to say. To apologize for taking the woman that was his first. I want to be sorry for that, but I can’t seem to find it in myself to apologize for finally getting the one thing I’ve always dreamed of.
I keep my mouth shut.
“Am I too late?” he begs. “Tell me I’m not too late.”
He’s standing opposite Cody. The room is silent as Tatum looks from him, back to me, to Cody, to the small group gathered here to celebrate this day with us.
He’s not supposed to be here.
He should be back in Vegas. He ended it with her. Whatever his reasons were, he ended it. Too many times. Shedeserves better. Am I better? I’d like to think so. Better for her, anyway. I’ll treat her the way she deserves. I’ll help make her dreams come true. I won’t break her heart.
Although…he’s not too late. Not technically. She hasn’t saidI dojust yet.
I have.
I wait.
I hold onto every last shred of my patience as Tatum’s mouth opens and closes, as she tries to form the words, as she fights with what to do here, faced with her history pitted so clearly against the future that I can and want to give her.
Finally, she finally turns back to me, and I see the determination in her eyes, as if she just made a snap decision that she’s completely confident in. “I do.” She clears her throat and turns back to Archer. “You’re too late.”
He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, his head pointed toward the ceiling instead of toward us, as if he’s trying to draw strength from the heavens.
“You’re welcome to take a seat and join us as we celebrate our commitment,” Tatum says quietly, her voice surprisingly even despite the tremble in her hands.
“Fuck,” he mutters, and instead of taking a seat, he walks straight out of the manor.
Everleigh looks wildly between us and the front door that he left open, and she gets up to chase after him.
We’ll be fine. She knows this.
But Archer? That’s another story entirely.
CHAPTER 37: Tatum Barker
Mrs. Bradley
