Chapter 31
Reese
Elena stands behind me, twisting my hair into something elegant while I stare at my hands doing my best to sit still.
I’m failing. I’m too nervous to make small talk.
I keep catching myself staring at my wedding dress, trying to imagine it on my body instead of a hanger.
A short time from now, I’ll be someone’s wife, and I can’t decide if I want to laugh, cry, or throw up.
"Stop squirming," Elena murmurs, bobby pin clenched between her teeth as she twists another section of my hair a little tighter than she needs to.
“Ouch!”
I laugh, but it comes out shaky.
"Sorry. I can't help it."
She meets my eyes in the antique mirror propped against the wall, her fingers never pausing in their work.
“It’s OK. You’re just nervous.” She says.
"Not about marrying him," I say quickly. "Just about... everything else. Walking in front of all those people. Tripping. Forgetting my vows. Tyler dropping the rings."
"None of that matters." Elena's voice softens as she secures another pin. "All that matters is Logan seeing you in this dress, and you two promising forever."
The dress hangs on a wooden rack beside us – simple, elegant, with delicate lace and a shimmer when it catches the light. We found it on our first shopping trip to New York, and I knew immediately it was the one. I can't stop looking at it, can't quite believe I'll be wearing it down the aisle.
I’m fiddling with my engagement ring, twisting it around my finger.
I love to look at it and think about the night Logan proposed – not just on the ice after winning the Cup, but later, in private, when he got down on one knee again, this time with the ring, and told me all the ways I'd changed his life.
I turn from the mirror to gaze out the window.
The Sister Bay resort sprawls before me, Green Bay gleaming in the distance.
Guests mingle on the lawn, making their way toward the barn where the ceremony will take place.
I spot several of Logan's teammates – Kovy with his wife, Benny chasing his toddler across the grass, their wives laughing together.
Logan's childhood friends from Minnesota huddle in a group, already drinking beers and laughing.
And then I see them – Jessica and Tyler. She's kneeling in front of him, straightening his tiny bow tie, her expression patient and kind. Tyler squirms, clearly uncomfortable in his formal wear, but he's beaming with importance. My ring bearer. My almost-stepson. My heart.
"They're here," I murmur.
Elena joins me at the window, makeup brush in hand. "Jessica's been amazing. I never woulda thought."
It's true. After that day in court when she withdrew the motion, everything changed. The mediation was what we needed. We established clear boundaries, open communication. She saw how happy Tyler was with both of us in his life.
"Did you ever imagine this?" I ask Elena.
"Honestly?" Elena turns me back toward the mirror, dabbing concealer under my eyes. "No. Certainly not the Jessica part. I knew Logan would come to his senses. I just didn't know how long it would take him."
I think about those dark days – how lonely I felt in my apartment, watching his games, driving past my school just to feel connected to something. And then Logan appearing at my door that morning, unshaven, apologetic, his knuckles bruised from punching a wall.
"Hold still," Elena instructs, leaning in to apply mascara to my lashes. "Close your eyes."
I breathe deep and exhale. It doesn’t help.
"All done." Elena's voice pulls me back to the present. "Ready for the dress?"
My legs feel like they might fail me. Elena steadies me, her grip firm on my shoulders.
"Deep breath," she instructs. "In through your nose, out through your mouth."
“I just tried that. Didn’t work.”
“Just do it again.”
I obey, trying to calm my jitters. Elena holds on to me as I step into the dress, carefully shimmying it up over my hips, guiding my arms through the lace sleeves.
"Don't cry yet," she warns, fastening the tiny buttons up my back. "You'll ruin your makeup."
But when she turns me to face the mirror, we both tear up despite her warning. The woman staring back at me looks like someone from a dream – radiant, elegant, transformed by joy.
"Oh, Reese." Elena's voice catches. "You're so incredibly beautiful. Look at you!"
I touch the fabric, feeling suddenly shy. "Do you think he'll like it?"
"Like it?" Elena laughs through her tears. "He's going to stop breathing when he sees you."
A knock at the door startles us both. My dad pokes his head in, his eyes widening when he sees me. "Princess," he whispers, "you look so beautiful. You look just like your mother."
“Thank you, Daddy.”
It's the sweetest compliment he could give me. My mom has been gone for three years, but for a second, it’s like she’s right here beside me.
"It's time," he says, offering his arm. "They're ready for us."
Reality crashes over me in a wave. This is happening. Right now. I'm marrying Logan McCoy – hockey god, new father, the man who fell in love with me after I doused him in coffee.
"I can't believe this is real," I whisper, more to myself than to Elena or my dad.
"Believe it," Elena says, handing me my bouquet – wildflowers in blues and purples, tied with a pink ribbon. "You deserve this, Reese. You deserve him, and he deserves you."
Dad squeezes my hand. "Ready, sweetheart?"
I take one last look in the mirror, barely recognizing the woman I see there – not because of the dress or the makeup, but because of the joy radiating from her eyes. From my eyes.
"I'm ready," I say, and for the first time today, my voice is steady.
I peek through the gap in the wooden doors, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure my dad can hear it standing next to me. The barn stretches before us, transformed by hundreds of twinkling lights hanging from exposed beams, with wildflowers lining the aisle where our guests sit in simple white wooden chairs. Sunlight filters through the open sides of the structure, it’s magical.
I spot Logan at the altar, tall and impossibly handsome in his tuxedo, fidgeting with his cuffs as he talks quietly with Kovy beside him.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Dad whispers, squeezing my hand.
I nod. My voice won’t work. The string quartet begins playing, and I watch as our guests turn expectantly toward the doors. I can’t believe all these people are here for us—for me.
Tyler appears at my side, his tiny suit making him look older. He supports the ring pillow with both hands, his expression as serious as I’ve ever seen him.
"Remember what we practiced?" I ask, kneeling carefully to avoid crushing my dress.
"I walk slow," he recites, "and I don't run, and I hold the pillow flat so the rings don't fall off."
"Perfect." I kiss his forehead, careful not to leave lipstick.
The wedding planner gives Tyler his cue, and he takes a deep breath that puffs out his little chest before he steps through the doors.
I watch as he marches down the aisle, face scrunched in concentration, taking deliberately measured steps.
The guests smile and murmur as he passes, but Tyler doesn't look up, his eyes fixed on the rings on the pillow as if the fate of the world rests on those two gold bands.
Logan beams with pride from the altar, and when Tyler reaches him, he bends down to give his son a gentle high-five that makes Tyler's serious expression finally break into a grin.
Elena goes next, looking stunning in her blue bridesmaid dress, carrying a smaller version of my wildflower bouquet. I find her boyfriend, Nate, in the crowd, looking back at her and I can tell by his smile that they just made eye contact.
Through the shifting crowd, I spot Jessica sitting near the front, wearing a lovely orange dress that complements her auburn hair.
She's seated next to Sully, who leans over to say something that makes her laugh.
Seeing her here, supportive and gracious, feels miraculous.
We've come so far from those tense days, building a surprising friendship based on the one thing we agree on completely: Tyler deserves all the love in the world.
The music changes—our cue. Dad pats my hand where it rests in the crook of his elbow.
"Last chance to run," he jokes, but his voice catches.
"Not a chance," I reply, and the doors swing open.
Everyone rises, faces turning toward me, but I see only Logan.
His reaction is everything Elena promised it would be—his eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and I feel beautiful in a way that I’ve never felt.
Beside him, Kovy nudges him gently, and Logan seems to remember what he’s doing up there.
Each step down the aisle feels both eternal and too quick. Dad's arm is steady under my hand, grounding me as we move past smiling faces that blur together. But it's Logan's gaze that holds me, his eyes never leaving mine. I have to blink back tears.
When we reach the altar, Dad kisses my cheek before placing my hand in Logan's. His skin is warm, his fingers trembling slightly as they close around mine.
"Hi," he whispers, barely loud enough to hear.
"Hi," I whisper back, and somehow that simple exchange settles me down. This is right. This is where I belong.
The officiant welcomes everyone, and I hear the sound of him speaking, but at first, I only catch some of the words. When it's time for our vows, Logan takes both my hands in his, his thumbs caressing my knuckles sweetly, as he looks into my eyes.