Page 94 of Marry Me

“Then at least you know, for heaven’s sake, sweetheart. This is not the moment to lose your nerve.”

The words hit like a thud. Shehadlost her nerve. Hell, she hardly recognized herself. Her mother wasn’t wrong. She’d always been a scrapper, but fear of failure was certainly her Achilles’. “Maybe,” she said, making an excuse that she had an urgent bride call on the other line. When she hung up, she pulled up Ally on her phone and let her thumb hover over the call button. All she had to do was press down, and she’d be connected to the one person’s voice she longed to hear more than all others.

“Hey, you ever had any trouble with the priest at St. Holy Trinity?” Miranda asked, popping her head into Megan’s office. “He’s banning the videographer at the Kelly wedding and limiting the photographer to one location at the back only. When I gently pressed, he started yelling at me.”

“Father Frank? He’s usually easygoing. Are you sure you were gentle?” It was something they were working on with Miranda. Her people skills.

“I mean, I didn’t tell him that he was an obstinate blowhard, but there was an insinuation.”

Megan closed her eyes and set down her cell phone. For the best. “Let’s talk to him together and see if we can change his mind. Take notes, and learn how to behave.”

“You got it, boss.”

As she put out the fire, her heart tugged at another missed opportunity. She’d almost had the nerve to place that call.

Almost.

Chapter Twenty-one

Allison awoke on her wedding day much earlier than was usual. It was like her body knew that this was a special day and wanted her awake for every moment of it. She’d not stayed at home the night before, and not at Brent’s. They were getting married at the Rosewood Mansion, a five-star hotel the Carmichael family frequented for events and the housing of out-of-town guests, and Brent had rented them each a lavish suite. Hers was overly large with towering ceilings, a lush king-size bed, french doors that opened onto a Juliet balcony, and a sitting room that looked like it came out of a decorating magazine, all decked out in mauves and tans with towering bookshelves and large imposing artwork on each wall.

She walked around the space, still wearing the T-shirt she’d slept in. In just a matter of hours her suite would be buzzing with hair and makeup people, her photographers, her family, her attendants, and more. This was the last little bit of solace she’d have, and she took a moment to savor it. Things had worked out so differently than she ever would have planned on just months ago. Her phone rang, jarring her from the quiet. Brent.

“Yes?”

“It’s our wedding day. Are you stoked?”

She grinned at his Brent-speak. “So stoked. That’s what I said when I woke up. Wow, I’m feelingstoked.”

“Right? I’m off for a round of golf to loosen up, but I’ll see you at six and then again every day.” He’d made a great deal of progress with his recovery but was still moving slow. Though he didn’t have his oldstamina back yet, his friends would watch out for him on the course, and he could use the golf cart to get from hole to hole.

She smiled at his words, and her heart ached in her chest. He sounded so happy, and she was attempting to match him with everything she had in her. It was hard to admit that she was coming up short, but she knew that it would take time, and that much they had going for them. “I’ll be there. The one in white, probably stumbling over her vows.”

“Even better for when I nail mine.” She bit the inside of her lip because he was partially serious.

When Jason arrived, the day took off. He was by her side constantly, which, of course, just reminded her of Megan. She noticed herself getting quieter as lunchtime moved into the afternoon. The suite was full, and Betsy held court, chattering away with the visitors as if it was her own special day. For once, Ally was grateful for Betsy’s over-the-top presence that allowed her to fade a bit. Her stomach felt off, and her hands were clammy.

“It’s just normal wedding-day jitters,” her mother told her when they were alone in the bathroom.

“Right?” She shrugged it off. “Everybody gets nervous on their wedding day. It’s the exact day to do it. I’m totally normal and should shut up and enjoy it.”

Her mother adjusted a strand of her hair in the mirror. “If it helps, I nearly fainted while we stood at the front of the church on my day. Your father had to steady me. He does that with his eyes.”

Ally smiled at the idea. And then she frowned, because her mother had been standing at the altar with her person, and what if Allison wasn’t going to be? She gripped the countertop as her vision swirled.

“You all right, sweetie?” her mother said, placing both hands on her shoulders. “You just went incredibly pale.”

She squeezed the sides of the bathroom counter with everything she had in her, hoping to ground herself and calm the hell down, find some air, and get the swirly room to stop. “Am I doing the right thing?” She turned to her mother in desperation. Not a conversation she ever thought she’d be having on her wedding day.

“Yes,” her mother said without hesitation. “It’s scary, one of life’s biggest steps, but I know that Brent’s the one for you. Everything has pointed in that direction.”

“Everything feels like it’s happening very fast.”

Her mother nodded. “Now that part I can agree with, but that doesn’t change the outcome, does it? This is what you said you wanted.”

“You’re right. You’re completely right,” she said as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was done, her hair was up. All that was missing was the dress.

An hour later, when she stepped into it as Jason held it open for her, she just knew it would all fall into place. That magic validation she was searching for was surely waiting for her to see her reflection as a bride. As the room full of friends, future in-laws, family, and vendors gasped as she was buttoned in, she turned to her reflection. The woman she saw staring back at her was elegant, beautiful, and so startlingly put together that she didn’t know what to do with the culmination of emotion. Was that really her? She looked like a princess. “Wow,” she said simply. This was a surreal moment, and time seemed to go extra slow. How many times had she imagined herself as a bride growing up? Here she stood.

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