39
During the father-daughter dance, I slip away from the reception.
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it, but the music and laughter cover my escape as I make my way to the bridal suite where Tessa and Linda are waiting with the second dress.
“You ready for this?” Tessa asks, helping me out of the green dress I’ve been wearing all evening.
“No. Absolutely not. This is insane.” I feel frantic. I feel so not ready for this.
“This is romantic,” Linda corrects, holding up the white dress they picked out—simple, flowing, perfect for what we’re about to do.
“I’m nervous. I’m going to mess it up. I’m going to forget my lines.”
“Then you speak from your heart,” Linda says. “That’s all you need to do.”
I suck in a breath. “What if I embarrass myself? What if I embarrass West?”
“Honey,” Tessa says, zipping up the dress, “trust me on this one. He feels the same way.”
Linda adds, “I’ve been watching him watch you all night. The way he looks at you? He’s in love with you.”
“Okay,” I breathe, smoothing down the skirt. “Okay. Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”
“You look beautiful,” Linda says, squeezing my hands. “Now go get my son.”
They’ve set up everything in the garden by the fountain, just like we planned. Twinkle lights strung between the olive trees, the vineyard rolling away into the distance, the sound of water trickling in the background.
It’s perfect. Too perfect.
Which makes me even more nervous.
I check my phone: 9:47 PM. Right on schedule.
Through the windows of the reception hall, I can see Tessa approaching West at his table. She’s saying something about family photos, gesturing toward the doors that lead to the garden.
He looks confused but follows her outside, along with Linda and his dad and his cousins.
This is it.
My hands are shaking as I pick up the microphone the wedding coordinator helped us set up.
I can do this. I can tell him how I feel in front of his entire family and hope for the best.
I can be brave.
I have to be brave.
“West?” I call out as he emerges from the reception hall.
He stops dead when he sees me, his expression shifting from confusion to shock to something I can’t quite read.
“Liv? What are you—why are you wearing—”
“I need to tell you something,” I say, my voice echoing slightly through the garden.
“Okay,” he says slowly, looking around at his family, who are all watching this unfold with barely contained excitement.
“This may have started as fake,” I begin nervously, and he goes very still. “This whole thing. The weddings, the arrangement, all of it. You needed a girlfriend, I needed money, and it seemed like a perfect solution.”
“Liv—”
“Let me finish. Please.”
He nods, and I can see him trying to figure out where this is going.
“It started fake, but every moment with you was real. Every laugh, every conversation, every time you made me feel like I mattered—that was real. The way you bought my favorite cereal and remembered how I like my coffee and made sure I had everything I needed to feel at home in your house—that was real.”
I take a breath, looking at his face in the soft light of the twinkle lights.
“The way you are with Charlie and Emma, the way you fit into my tiny apartment, the way you make me feel like the best version of myself. I was just too scared to admit that this was so much more than what either of us asked for.”
“Liv,” he says again, softer this time.
“I don’t want to keep hopping on planes anymore, West. I don’t want to keep pretending this is temporary or casual or just convenient. I want to figure out how to make this work like really work. I want to try.”
I take a moment to gather my nerves because I feel like I’m shaking. “I want to wake up next to you and fight with you about what to watch on Netflix. I want to be the person you call when you have good news and bad news and regular boring Tuesday news.”
West takes a step closer, and I can see something shifting in his expression.
“I want to love you,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. “Not fake love, not convenient love, not teenage obsession love. Real love. The kind that’s messy and complicated and worth fighting for.”
I can hear Tessa sniffling behind me, and when I glance over, Linda is dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
“Are you done?” he asks quietly.
“Am I done what?”
“Are you done with your speech?”
“I... yes? I think so?”
“Good.”
He crosses the distance between us in three strides, takes my face in his hands, and kisses me.
Hard at first, like he’s been waiting forever to do it. Then softer, gentler, like he’s savoring it.
Like he’s saying yes to everything I just asked for.
When we break apart, I’m breathing hard, and my knees are shaky, and I can hear people clapping and cheering around us.
“So,” he says, his forehead pressed against mine. “This is real now? You’re my girlfriend?”
“So real,” I say, laughing because I’m crying and I don’t care who sees it. “This has been real for a long time.”
“Good,” he says, kissing me again. “Because I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen, and I was starting to think I’d have to fake date you forever.”
I chuckle. “You’ve actually been in love with me since you were seventeen?”
He nods. “And I still haven’t had the courage to tell you or to truly ask you…”
He lowers down onto one knee, and I’m panicking. My heart races as I look around. I start jumping. I can’t help it. I’m like a bunny hopping around. Tessa is laughing so hard as she video tapes.
I realize I’m screaming.
He laughs, grabbing my hand. “Liv,” he says, trying to steady me.
I’m crying when I say, “I love you too. Really, truly, stupidly in love with you.”
“I love you so fucking much. Be mine forever.”
“Forever,” I nod.
He stands and kisses me. He lifts my feet off the ground and spins me around. I squeal, holding onto his neck.
“I’m glad,” he says. “Because my family’s going to expect you at Christmas now.” I stare at him as he continues, “Christmas, Easter, Fourth of July, random Tuesday dinners, all of it. You’re stuck with us now.”
“Am I?” I tease.
He kisses me. “Completely stuck.”
“Good,” I say, echoing him. “I happen to like your family.”
Around us, his family is still cheering and taking pictures and generally treating this like the best entertainment they’ve had all year.
“They like you too,” he says.
“So what happens now?” I ask.
“Now we figure it out. Together. For real this time.”
He kisses me again, and this time it tastes like forever.
Like the beginning of something real and messy and beautiful.
Like the best decision I’ve ever made.
“Come on,” he says, taking my hand. “Everyone, let’s go back to the reception. I want to dance with my girlfriend.”
I smile, letting him pull me back to the dance floor. I have butterflies in my stomach when he turns and smiles at me. Tessa runs up next to me and pinches my arm.
“Told you,” she whispers.
We walk back inside and dance the night away.