Page 113 of Only Be Mine

“Thank you,” I said.

She squeezed my arm. “No matter what happens, I’ve got you. Okay?”

I nodded, my throat tight.

“And for the record,” she added lightly, “if you do decide to run, I will absolutely help you hide the evidence.”

I laughed, an actual laugh, and for a moment, the pressure in my chest eased. That was the best friend I knew.

“Ready?” Amy asked, cautious like she half expected me to bolt.

“As I’ll ever be.” I smoothed my hands down the front of my dress, wishing, absurdly, that I were wearing jeans. A t-shirt. Something that felt more like me.

She headed down the aisle, joining my sister and the bridesmaid Trevor had insisted on - someone from the club, someone who “fit.” I hadn’t argued. I hadn’t argued about most things.

My mother squeezed my hand.

“Sweetheart,” she said quietly, “if you’re not ready… people would understand. After everything…”

“I’m okay,” I said quickly. Too quickly. I smiled up at her, blinking hard. “Really.”

The music swelled and a moment later the doors opened.

And suddenly, everyone was standing.

I lifted my chin and stepped forward with my mother, the sound of our footsteps echoing softly beneath the music. Faces blurred together as I moved down the aisle - friends, family, strangers who felt entitled to witness this moment. I focused straight ahead.

On Trevor.

He stood tall at the altar, impeccably dressed, every detail in place. When our eyes met, his expression shifted.

For a heartbeat, he looked like the man I’d fallen for - steady, composed, so sure of us. The man who held doors open and remembered my coffee order.

Then his gaze moved over me, slow and deliberate.

He smiled.

It was flawless. Warm. The smile of a man who looked exactly as a groom should. But his eyes lingered a fraction too long, sharpening just enough to make my breath hitch. Not displeased, but measuring. As if committing the moment to memory, already deciding how it should have gone.

My mother squeezed my hand, grounding me.

I drew in a breath, lifted my chin, and smiled back at Trevor as we kept walking.

Halfway down the aisle, my focus wavered, just for a second. Long enough to remind myself I wasn’t alone.

Seth stood near the back, tall and still beside a woman who had to be his fiancée. His expression didn’t change when he saw me, but his eyes softened. He gave a small nod.

No judgment. No questions.

Just a silent, I’m here.

By the time I reached the altar, the reverend’s voice had faded into background noise. Trevor took my hands, closing the space between us - between everything.

His grip was warm. Steady. Familiar.

For a moment, everything held still - the music, the murmurs, the air between us. Like the room was waiting for him to speak.

I searched his face, trying to find something - certainty, comfort, a sign that this was right.