Chapter 61
Collins
I was about to roll over and ignore it when the screen lit up again. Her name.
A smile tugged at my mouth before I even opened the message.
Anna: Morning…last morning as a Miss.
Wonder if my soon-to-be husband is awake yet.
I stared at the screen for a second, fully awake now. And smiling like an idiot.
Me: Morning, Mrs.-soon-to-be. I can’t wait for the day my only alarm is the soft touch of my wife.
Anna: Hmm… tempting. But today, I might keep you awake on purpose.
Me: I’d call that a very good plan. Also…a very dangerous one.
Anna: Dangerous is kind of my brand, remember?
Me: Duly noted. Just so you know—I’m extremely affectionate when provoked.
Anna: Then maybe I’ll make you wait…just a little. Wouldn’t want you stealing all the kisses before the aisle.
Me: Stealing kisses is a skill I’ve perfected. And marriage makes it legal… right?
Anna: Only if you survive the ceremony first. I’m making you earn everything.
Me: Earn it? Careful, love. I’m very good at claiming what’s mine.
Anna: Claiming…sure. Just don’t forget—I don’t play fair.
Me: Tonight, officially? You won’t get away from me at all.
Anna: That’s the plan. Keep your hands ready, Mr. Soon-to-be.
Me: Already ready. And you? Prepared for what happens after the “I do’s”?…Okay. I should probably stop typing now.
Anna: Why? What’s up?
Me: Because I’m talking to my soon-to-be wife—who I haven’t seen or touched in a week. And you should know…you’re absolutely torturing me.
Anna: Am I?
Me: Completely. And you’ll pay for it tonight.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called.
Zelda peeked in first. “Your mom is here.”
Before I could respond, my mother appeared behind her and swept straight into the room, taking one look at me still in bed.
“My son,” she said, hands on her hips, “what are you still doing under the covers? It’s your wedding day.”
I groaned lightly and pushed myself up. “It’s still early, Mom.
She muttered something about men and time while straightening the curtains, already in full control of the room.
I glanced down at my phone and typed quickly.
Me: I’ll chat to you later, love. My mom is here.
The reply came almost instantly.
Anna: See you at the altar. Love you.
A smile curved my mouth.
Me: Love you too.
Anna: Oh—and I received your crystal flower bouquet.
Me: You got it?
Anna: Yes. I love it. Thank you.
Me: I’m glad. Chat soon.
I locked my phone just as my mother turned back to me, eyes sharp and amused. “You look far too calm for someone who is about to get married.” She said.
I smiled to myself. Calm wasn’t the word—but ready was.
I’d just stepped out of the shower when I heard voices downstairs—low, familiar, threaded with laughter. The house felt alive in a way it hadn’t in a long time.
By the time I reached the bottom step, I saw Tim and Marlon sitting at the kitchen table while my mother moved between them, setting down cups of tea like this was any other morning and not the day my entire life was about to change.
“Are you ready, bud?” Marlon asked, glancing up. “Guests will start arriving any minute now.”
Tim leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Still can’t believe you’re marrying her. Lucky bastard.”
I smirked. “You had your chance. She chose me. Unfortunate for you.”
Marlon shot Tim a look. “You’re not jealous…are you?”
Tim shook his head easily. “Nah. Collins deserves her.”
I lifted my wrist and leaned in slightly. “How do I smell?”
Tim inhaled, nodding approvingly. “That’s good. Tom Ford?”
“Yes, Oud Wood,” I said.
“Solid choice.”
“Alright,” I said, clapping my hands once. “Let’s go.”
Marlon drove. I took the passenger seat, nerves buzzing under my skin, while Tim sprawled out in the back.
“How’s Anna getting to the altar?” Marlon asked.
“I sent a limo for her and her friends.”
“Ooh,” Tim teased. “Dr. Romantic.”
I turned to Marlon. “Did you arrange the helicopter?”
“Parked on the rooftop at the venue.”
“Rooftop?” I frowned. “How do we get the wheelchair up there?”
“There’s an elevator. Clear pathway too. You’ll just need to lift her into the helicopter.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
When we arrived, everything hit me at once.
The venue was already full—every single seat occupied. Fifty guests. Short notice. Perfectly intimate. Twenty-five from her side, twenty-five from mine. Not one empty space. Somehow, everyone came.
I made my way to the officiant and took my place, hands clasped tightly in front of me. I couldn’t stop fidgeting. Couldn’t stop looking down, then up, then down again.
Then the music began.
An instrumental version of Can’t Help Falling in Love.
The doors opened.
Tatum and Chloe entered first, graceful and glowing. My heart started racing. Then Nancy followed—steady, composed, radiant in her role. The doors closed again, and they took their places beside me.
The room went quiet.
Then the music shifted.
A Thousand Years by Christina Perri
The doors opened once more.
Anna.
Her father rolled her in, and the sight of her hit me like a physical blow. She was breathtaking—soft and luminous and impossibly real. I struggled to keep my composure, blinking hard, jaw tight, doing everything in my power not to break.
They stopped halfway down the aisle.
My heart nearly stopped with them.
Why weren’t they moving?
Then her father stepped around the wheelchair.
And time…shattered.
Anna stood.
She reached for her father’s arm, steadying herself, and then—step by careful step—she began walking.
I dropped to my knees. It felt instinctive, like prayer, like surrender. Tears blurred everything. Marlon and Tim were suddenly there, grounding me, helping me stand as I stared at the woman walking toward me—my bride.
When she was only a few steps away, I moved forward.
“I’ll take her from here,” I told her father.
She stood in front of me, close enough to touch, and I couldn’t stop smiling even as tears streamed down my face.
When we said I do, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her—forgot the room, forgot the world, forgot everything except her. I pulled back only long enough to whisper, “You’re so beautiful,” before kissing her again.
Then, wiping my tears—mirroring hers—I breathed out the truth that still felt impossible.
“I can’t believe you can walk.”
She smiled at me like a miracle.
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “Are you ready to leave?”
She blinked, surprised. “Already?”
“We’re skipping the reception,” I murmured.
Her brows lifted. “We are?”
“Yes.” A smile curved my mouth. “We’re starting our honeymoon early.”
That mischievous spark lit her eyes—the one I’d fallen for long before today. “Then I’ll go wherever you go.”
While the guests moved toward the reception, laughing and distracted, I guided her toward the elevator. The doors closed softly, sealing us into our own little world as we ascended to the rooftop.
The moment the doors opened, the wind greeted us—and the helicopter, waiting with its blades already humming.
“A helicopter?”
“Yes, love,” I said softly. “I didn’t want a just-married car to bring back painful memories. I wanted our first ride together as husband and wife to feel free…”
I helped her in carefully, making sure she was settled before taking my seat beside her. The pilot gave a signal, and seconds later we were lifting off—city shrinking beneath us, noise fading, the world falling away.
A few minutes into the flight, both our phones started buzzing.
I glanced at her screen and saw the incoming messages.
Where are you?
She typed quickly, then turned the phone toward me, laughing.
I was kidnapped.
She lifted the phone, snapped a photo of us—wind in her hair, my arm around her—and sent it with a single caption:
By my husband.
My chest tightened.
I pulled her closer, my voice low and certain. “Come here, Mrs. Collins.”
I kissed her—slow at first, savouring it—then deeper, like a promise finally fulfilled.
As the helicopter carried us forward, away from everything we’d survived, I rested my forehead against hers and smiled.
This…this was where my life truly began.