Page 22 of Worthy: Cassius and Faith

Tate reached over and squeezed my hand. “Yeah, Faith. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” I took a deep, shuddery breath. “It hasn’t sunk in yet. That’s another reason I didn’t tell Lucas about the baby—I’m not ready.”

Both of my friends nodded. “That’s fair,” Macy said. “Speaking of your brother, does he know you’re getting married in his hospital room in an hour?”

“I told him yesterday. I’m not sure that’s sunk in, either.” In fact, Lucas had been almost too accepting of the news. The only thing he’d seemed curious about was whether Cassius would sneak him candy again. He also asked if I’d ever figured out what type of car he drove. There’d been no mention of my supposed nanny job or why I happened to be getting married to a man twice my age whom I’d only known for a few weeks. Lucas seemed happy he’d see me soon and oblivious to everything else.

Ah, to be young.

Reminding myself that I was only twenty, I decided to try and relax. It was my wedding day; maybe I could enjoy it. I was so happy that Tate and Macy were with me that I almost cried.

And it did not escape my attention that I had Cassius Blackwood to thank for that.

When we arrived at the Longwood Medical Area at the treatment center, the limousine dropped us off out front. Passerbys smiled at us, and several women in scrubs told me I was a beautiful bride. My nerves started to rise again. This is actually happening. I’m getting married.

Macy fixed the back of my dress. Tate smoothed my hair and dotted additional lip gloss onto my lips. “You look perfect,” she declared.

Tate checked the time on her phone, then cursed. “We’re about to be late. Where is she?”

“Who?” I asked, but Tate didn’t answer.

“That’s gotta be her!” Macy scanned the street and waved at an attractive, silver-haired woman in a pantsuit who was hustling toward us, wearing a headset. “Here! We’re right here!”

“I see you,” the woman joked when she reached us. “Faith is hard to miss.”

She held up one finger and then said into her headset’s microphone, “They’re here. I’ll bring them up shortly.”

She took the headset down and smiled at me, her perfect, blinding white teeth winking in the sun. “I’m Leesa, your wedding coordinator. You look lovely, Faith. What a gorgeous bride.”

Leesa motioned for us to follow her. “Everything’s ready to go. Macy, Tate, thank you for promptly getting Faith here. The three of you are so beautiful. You’re going to look amazing in the photos.”

I hadn’t realized that we’d be taking photos or that I’d be having bridesmaids and a wedding coordinator. Suddenly, my shotgun wedding seemed much more legitimate. It was real. My palms started to sweat, and I was relieved once we made it out of the sunshine and inside the cool interior of the treatment center.

The receptionist—the same one who’d argued with my mother— sprung up from behind her desk, grinning at me. “You look beautiful, Faith! Congratulations! We’re all so excited, and Lucas is on cloud nine!”

“He is?”

Her smile widened. “Are you kidding me? Your fiancé’s up there with his family, and your brother is loving it. They’re playing music and eating candy. Oh, Leesa, let me help you get the bouquets!”

My fiancé? His family? My brother’s loving it?

I watched, transfixed, as the receptionist and the wedding coordinator hurried back to an office and returned with three gorgeous bundles of flowers. They handed the smaller ones to Tate and Macy and the large bouquet to me.

“We’re heading up now,” Leesa chirped into her headset.

She hustled us into the elevator and proceeded to blot all three of our faces, touch up our eyeshadow, and smooth any flyaway hairs before we arrived at my brother’s floor.

“You’re like a fairy godmother,” Tate joked as Leesa tucked one final strand of my hair into my bun.

Leesa winked at her. “I know. I literally live for this.”

She placed a jewelry box into my palm. “This is the ring for Mr. Blackwood,” she said gently.

“The ring? Oh.” My cheeks heated. I’d forgotten I was supposed to do something crucial for my own wedding. “T-Thank you. I didn’t even think?—”

“You’re not supposed to think. You’re the bride—you’re supposed to enjoy.” Leesa gently squeezed my hand. “I wish you and Mr. Blackwood every happiness. I love that you’re getting married here with your brother. I have a very special feeling about your marriage.”

“You do?”

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