Chapter 13
chapter
thirteen
Mitchell
“I know you were probably hoping to go to the hotel and change or whatever, but we don’t have time,” I say.
“I know. It’s okay. Doesn’t really matter what I’m wearing.”
Her voice sounds resolved, but also so fucking sad. It’s like a kick to my solar plexus.
We’re late. Traffic outside Vegas had been a mess—construction, an accident, the universe apparently conspiring to make this harder than it already is.
I pull into the parking lot outside the chapel, the neon sign blinking cheerfully like nothing in the world is wrong.
I kill the engine and turn to Evie.
“You ready?” I ask.
She nods, but her smile is tight. Brave. Too brave.
I step out first, instinctively moving around the truck to help her down, my hand settling at her waist like it belongs there. She leans into me without thinking, and that small, unconscious trust almost undoes me.
Inside, everything smells like flowers and cheap cologne and promise.
Mike is already there, wearing a fucking tux, because of course he is.
He turns when he sees me, confusion flashing across his face. “I didn’t think you were going to stay for this.”
“I tried calling you,” I say immediately. “Texting. Voicemail. For days.”
He winces. “Yeah. About that.”
“That’s not an answer,” I say, stepping closer, my body angling subtly in front of Evie.
Mike runs a hand through his hair. “My phone got smashed. Dropped it in a parking lot in Tokyo right before I got on my plane. The screen shattered. Completely dead. I didn’t get a replacement until an hour ago.”
I stare at him, disbelief curling low in my gut.
“You didn’t think to borrow someone else’s?” I ask flatly.
He opens his mouth, then closes it. “In hindsight, yes. Obviously.”
Evie’s fingers curl into the back of my jacket, and that’s it. That’s the moment everything inside me locks into place. She’s no different than a business transaction to him. So, of course, he wasn’t in a rush to talk to me.
“This can’t happen,” I say.
Mike blinks. “What?”
I take a breath. Slow. Controlled. The way I was trained to do before stepping into chaos.
“You can’t marry her,” I say. “You won’t make her happy.”
“Excuse me?”
That’s when I notice the woman standing beside Mike. They’re both frowning.
“I know her,” I continue, voice steady even as my heart pounds. I reach behind me and clasp Evie’s hand. “I know what she needs. I know what scares her. And I know you won’t give her the life she deserves.”
Mike’s confusion deepens. “Mitchell—”
“I will,” I say. “I can. I’d choose her every day, not because I have to—but because I want to.”
The room goes very quiet.
Mike looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. He shakes his head, then he turns slowly to the woman at his side. “I already married her,” he says.
“Married who?” I ask.
“Evelyn Barlow,” he says, indicating the brunette at his side. She nods once as if I need her confirmation as well.
I point at her. “That is not Evelyn Barlow,” I say.
At this point, Evie has come closer to my side.
“But I am Evelyn Barlow,” the brunette says.
Silence.
My stomach drops.
I pull my Evelyn in front of me. “I don’t know what’s happening, but Mike, this is Evelyn Barlow, the princess from Saldania.”
Evie holds out her hand to my brother. “Nice to meet you.”
Mike instinctively shakes her hand. But then his frown deepens.
“An actual princess?” the woman beside him asks.
“Yes,” Evie says. “It’s a small island nation that very few people have heard of.”
The brunette looks up at Mike. “Is that why you’ve been calling me princess?”
Then, very quietly, “Oh shit.” Mike says it, but I might have too. I certainly thought it.
The realization hits him all at once. I can see it in his face—the mental replay, the assumptions, the paperwork, the vows.
“I married the wrong Evelyn Barlow,” he says.
I pull Evie into my chest without thinking, my arm wrapping around her shoulders as I press a kiss to the top of her head. She fits there like she was always meant to.
Mike scrubs a hand over his face. “This is… wow.”
I meet his eyes. There’s no anger there. Confusion and maybe amusement?
I reach my hand out to my brother’s wife. “Welcome to the family.” Then I look over to him. “Congrats on your nuptials,” I say evenly.
He looks at me. “You’re serious?”
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” I glance down at Evie’s gorgeous face, looking up at me. “It wasn’t intentional; falling in love with her was the most natural thing in the world. So if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got a princess to marry.”
Evie’s breath catches. “Truly?”
“It’s how today was going to end, regardless of Mike’s wedding. You belong to me.”
The smile she gives me is so brilliant I’m certain it shines brighter than the Vegas Strip lights.
“I wanted it to be you,” she says.
And for the first time since this all began, the future doesn’t feel like something being decided for us.
It feels like something we’re choosing.
I hear my brother murmur to the woman he married something about how they’d figure things out later. Then they follow me and Evie inside the chapel.
After I pay for a package that includes a silly little veil for my bride, we walk down the short aisle together. The clap-clap of her flip-flops marks the cadence of our steps, and it makes me smile.
“Now I wish I had changed,” she says quietly. “I didn’t much care what kind of bride I was when I thought I had to marry someone else. But marrying you,” she swallows. “I wish I looked a bit fancier.”
Evie stands across from me, her strawberry blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Those impossibly blue eyes of hers are wide and locked on me.
“I suppose I should have asked you before I declared to my brother that I was marrying you.”
She gives me a mischievous grin. “That was very caveman of you, staking your claim like that.”
“Will you marry me, Evie? Be my wife and have a real marriage with all the physical benefits?”
That makes her giggle. “Yes, please.”
The officiant clears his throat, reminding us it’s his turn to talk and we need to be quiet now. Then he says something about love and commitment.
I grab my bride’s hands, and her fingers tighten on mine.
“Mitchell,” the officiant says. “Do you and your bride want traditional vows or to provide your own?
I glance at Evie. “Our own?”
She nods.
“Our own, please.”
This feels bigger than anything I’ve ever done. I glance over at my brother. “Hey, I’m really glad you’re here for this.”
He gives me a smile and nods.
Then I focus back on my bride. “Evie,” I say, my voice a little rough. “I didn’t expect you. I didn’t plan for you. And I definitely didn’t think I’d be standing here today.”
A small smile curves her mouth.
“But from the moment you stepped into my life, you made everything brighter. As if I’d been living in a monochromatic world before you, and now everything is in technicolor.
You reminded me that life is full of joy if you take the time to look.
Like ridiculous flip-flops and motel hair dye.
You are the best time I’ve ever had, and I can’t wait to see what other adventures we can go on. ”
Her breath hitches.
“I promise to stand with you,” I continue. “Not in front of you. Not behind you. Beside you. I promise to listen when you speak, to fight for you when you need it, and to never forget that loving you is something I get to do—not something I’m obligated to.”
My thumb brushes her knuckles. “I promise to give you freedom, honesty, and my whole heart. Today. Tomorrow. Always.”
The officiant nods and turns to her. “Evie.”
She inhales, steadying herself, and looks at me like I’m the only person in the room.
“Mitchell,” she says softly. “You gave me something I never thought I was allowed to have. Room to discover myself, to simply be myself without guardrails or restrictions.”
Her fingers tighten around mine.
“You saw me before I knew how to see myself. You helped me find courage where I thought there was only duty. And when I asked for one small choice, you gave me everything.”
My chest tightens painfully.
“I choose you,” she says. “Not because I have to—but because I want to. If I couldn’t marry you, be your wife, I might as well return home and marry Harold.
” She releases a small laugh. “Because no one but you could ever make me feel so adored. I promise to walk beside you, to trust you, and to build a life that belongs to us alone. One where love is a decision we make every day.”
She smiles, bright and sure. “I give you my heart freely. Completely. And forever.”
The officiant clears his throat, smiling. “By the power vested in me—”
I barely hear the rest.
“—you may kiss your bride.”
I do hear that, and I don’t hesitate. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her—slow, reverent, certain.
She kisses me back just as surely, her hands sliding around my body, holding on like she knows exactly where she belongs.
When we part, she rests her forehead against my chest. Then she glances up at me, smiling through happy tears.
“Hi, husband,” she whispers.
I laugh, low and disbelieving.
“Hi, wife.”
And for the first time in my life, everything feels exactly right.