Page 96 of Dice & Dekes

“I started off my marriage with two months of secrecy,” I remind him. “Were you worried that I was going to get boring?”

“Never. Although that does beg the question of whether this counts as your second marriage, or just a do-over.”

“We renewed our vows. Sober, and with no Elvises present.” I smooth my palms over the flowy legs of my white jumpsuit. The lace sleeves and shoulders make it look suitably wedding-y, but I feel more like myself than I would in some froufrou, cupcake gown. Sofia will slay in a dress like that, but it’s not my style.

“Hey.” Baylor nudges me. “What’s the matter?”

“I guess I was just thinking…” I bite my tongue. “Never mind.”

“About Mick?” he prompts. “It would make sense if you were.”

Baylor gets it. He knew Mick and won’t judge me for thinking about the guy I would have married, even as I celebrate my wedding. “I wish he was here. Is that weird? I wish he could see this. I know that doesn’t make sense. If I’d married him, I wouldn’t be with Viktor. And I’m glad I am, but I wish I could share this with him.”

Baylor places a hand on my back. “I get it. You two were really close. It makes sense to want your best friend at your wedding.”

“You’re my best friend.”

Baylor snorts. “Please. I could never hold a candle to that guy.”

The funny thing is, he’s right about what I’m missing right now. I can picture Mick’s face, how wide his smile would be, how he’d tell me that the jumpsuit suited me, how he’d thump Vik on the back and congratulate him. Mick wasn’t the jealous sort. He would have had nothing but nice things to say, and he’d have meant every word.

“You’re lucky,” Baylor says.

I sniff. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“You’ve had two amazing men fall head over heels for you. True love, twice in one lifetime? That’s incredible.”

“It is,” I admit, blinking back tears. “And the second time feels… more real. Like I chose it, with eyes wide open. With all the scars and fear and everything that came before.”

Baylor bumps my shoulder. “You still got room in that big heart for more love?”

I follow my gaze to Viktor and smile. “Turns out, love doesn’t take up space. It makes more of it.”

He’s absolutely right. I am lucky. I scan the crowd in search of a shock of blond hair. Grady, Vivian, Vanessa, and the Abbotts are standing together, but I don’t see Viktor nearby. There’s no sign of Knight, either. After another quick scan of the guests, I finally spot Viktor standing next to the tent wall. Talking to my dad.

“Excuse me,” I say to Baylor. “I have to go save my husband from an uncertain fate.”

“Cool. I’m going to compare fountains and see which I like better. I feel like champagne would go flat getting cycled through a setup like that, but what do I know?”

We part ways. I make a beeline for Dad and Viktor, both of whom are holding champagne flutes and speaking in low, earnest tones. There’s enough ambient noise that I have to get close before I can hear what they’re saying.

The sight of Viktor laughing—unselfconscious and open, talking to the man who once hated his guts—makes my chest ache in the best way. That’s the kind of love I’ve got now. The kind that rebuilds, brick by brick.

Dad reaches out to poke Viktor’s chest. “I hope you’re enjoying this. Live it up. This is your big chance to be on my lawn. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

Viktor frowns. “I thought things might be different now that I’m family.”

“You’d think,” Dad says. “But no.”

“Can I at least call you Dad?”

I sidle up to Viktor and loop my arm through his. “Definitely Dad, because Knight goes by Daddy.”

My father, halfway through taking a sip of champagne, splutters and coughs. Champagne spills down his chin. He has to lean forward to keep the bubbly liquid from staining his dress shirt. “For fuck’s sake.”

Mom saunters over. “Oh, dear. Knova, did you break your father?”

Viktor holds up three fingers and mouths, “Count the words.”

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