Page 155 of That Moment
I loop my arm through his, steadying both of us. My heart is pounding, but it feels like the mountain itself is holding me up.
“Let’s do it,” I whisper, eyes locked on the breathtaking view that leads straight to Scotty.
The music swells. Soft strings floating across the mountain air, carried by the breeze. Dad squeezes my hand, and together we step through the open terrace doors.
The aisle is lined with familiar faces, smiling at me, dabbing at their eyes. The Rockies stretch high and endless behind the altar. The whole venue looks like something out of a dream. But all I see is him.
Scotty stands at the end of the aisle in a tux, a matching black cowboy hat, and boots that make him look both rugged and devastatingly handsome. His hands are clasped in front of him, broad shoulders squared, but his face, god, his face nearly breaks me. He looks wrecked. Raw. Like he’s holding back everything just to keep standing upright.
My chest aches with every step closer.
He’s mine. This man, who once swore he could never be enough. This man who made me fight tooth and nail to get through that stubborn heart of his. Mine.
Gasps and sniffles ripple through the crowd when Dad presses a kiss to my temple and places my hand in Scotty’s. His palm is rough, steady, but shaking ever so slightly against mine. His eyes glisten, a huge smile on his face, and when he whispers, “You are so beautiful, I can’t believe I’ma bout to marry you,” I almost forget there’s an entire audience holding their breath around us.
The officiant’s words blur. I barely hear the prayers, the readings, the laughter when one of Brooklyn’s twins yells, “Kiss already!”
All I hear is Scotty’s vows. His voice is gravelly, rough with emotion. “I never thought I’d stand here. I figured a man like me didn’t get this. Didn’t get you. But you fought for me. You made me believe I was worth loving. And I swear, Adrienne, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you were right.”
Tears stream freely down my face now, makeup be damned. My own vows shake as I get them out. “I used to think love had to look perfect. That it had to check all the right boxes. But you taught me that love is showing up, day after day, even when it’smessy. You are my everything, Scotty Bescher. My safe place. My heart. I choose you. Forever.”
By the time the officiant pronounces us husband and wife, half the Slades are sobbing into tissues. Dolly is fanning herself like she might faint, Milly is openly weeping, and Dad looks like he’s trying not to tackle Scotty in a hug.
“Now,” the officiant says with a smile, “kiss your bride.”
Scotty doesn’t waste a second. He slides one hand around the back of my neck, the other around my waist, and pulls me in for a toe-curling kiss that ends with me dipped back in his arms. The crowd erupts into a fit of cheers, but all I feel is him.
My husband.
The reception tent glows like a lantern against the mountainside. Scotty’s hand never leaves mine. Not through the photos, not through the walk into the tent where everyone rises to cheer, not even when Tyler and Trent start chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss” like we’re still teenagers at a bonfire.
Our first dance is a memory I’ll never forget. The way he looked at me as he held me, the promises he whispered in my ear as we moved across the floor. His hands are big and sure at my waist, my cheek tucked against his chest. The song melts around us, the rest of the room falling away. By the time the toasts begin, I’m floating.
Axel’s speech is first, predictably inappropriate. “We all figured Adrienne would end up with some Wall Street finance bro that would probably end up behind bars for financial crimes,” he says, smirking while the crowd laughs. “Instead, she picked the only man in Colorado who owns more wrenches than dress shirts. Honestly, I’m not shocked. I don’t think any of us were. Because no one has ever made my sister smile like that.”
Dad gives Scotty his best menacing glare when Axel raises his glass and adds with a wink, “Welcome to the family, Bescher. Don’t screw it up.”
The room explodes with laughter. Scotty grins and pulls me tighter to his side, “Not a chance in hell.”
Then Aiden stands, glass in hand. His voice is steadier, softer, carrying over the quiet hush of the tent.
“I’ve watched my sister chase a lot of things over the years: dreams, degrees, impossible expectations. But I’ve also watched her laugh the hardest and light up the brightest around one man. One of our oldest friends. Scotty, you’ve been in our lives since we were kids, and somehow, after all these years, you and Adrienne found your way right where you were meant to be, together.”
My throat tightens, tears blurring the room as Aiden lifts his glass toward us. “To Adrienne and Scotty. To family, to forever, and to a long and happy marriage.”
I’m swaying barefoot on the dance floor after the toasts finish up, champagne in hand, when Brooklyn sidles up. Her cheeks are flushed from champagne.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever seen you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
I glance across the room where Scotty is crouched low, letting Amethyst pile flowers on his head while Dolly howls with laughter. My heart squeezes so tight I can barely breathe.
“Me too,” I murmur, blinking against tears that keep sneaking up on me all day.
Brooklyn bumps her shoulder into mine, smiling through her own misty eyes. “Then hold onto it with both hands. You fought hard for this.”
The music swells again, and Scotty straightens, eyes finding mine across the room. He crosses the floor in a few strides, ignoring the calls for another toast, ignoring Axel trying to shove a beer into his hand. His arm hooks around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“You having fun, Mrs. Bescher?” he murmurs against my ear, low enough that no one else can hear.
