Chapter 35 Ruger
Ruger
WEDDING DAY… MAYBE
Stupid.
I’m so damn stupid.
Who gives someone a timeline on forever? Who looks the woman he loves in the eye and says, You need to figure this out, and I’ll be here when you do?
I drag a hand down my face, pressing my fingers into my temples until my skull throbs.
Why didn’t I just let the ninety days run out?
We could’ve just done the civil ceremony, and I wouldn’t be in this room in this stupid suit that’s mocking me.
Just because the job offer had a two-week time limit on it didn’t mean we did.
My reflection in the mirror doesn’t even look like me. My eyes are bloodshot. My shirt clings like a prison. The camo tie feels like it’s strangling me. My chest is tight, my hands tingling. I clench and unclench them, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal.
Nothing feels right without her here.
And I haven’t heard a single word from her. That’s on me. I told her to think. To take the time she needed. I told myself it was noble, letting her choose freely. But right now, it feels like I handed her the perfect exit ramp.
A knock. My heart rockets into my throat.
Come in, I say, too fast, too desperate.
The door creaks open achingly slow.
Not her.
Walter steps in, eyes soft. How you feeling, Ruger?
I laugh once, bitter. Not great.
He nods like he expected that. It’s going to be okay.
My jaw tightens. Have you seen her?
No.
The single syllable slices through me.
I could run. Lace up my boots, disappear into the woods, pretend none of this was real. But I promised her. I promised her I’d be at the end of the aisle, no matter what.
Another knock. My pulse spikes again.
Only Brandt.
Hey, guys. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. Just spoke with Drew. Everyone’s seated. It’s time.
Is she here? My voice cracks.
Brandt’s mouth flattens. Didn’t say.
The floor feels like it’s moving and I’m standing still. I bend at the waist, bracing my hands on my knees, dragging in ragged breaths. Nausea twists my stomach.
You don’t have to do this, Ruger, Brandt says gently. Say the word and I’ll get you out of here.
I shake my head, eyes squeezed shut. I won’t break my promise. Even if it means breaking my heart.
When I’ve composed myself, Walter helps me into my jacket. I force my arms through the sleeves. How do I look?
Walter studies me for a long beat, then smiles. Like a man about to become a husband.
God, I hope.
Brandt hooks an arm around my shoulders as we walk.
My boots thud heavily against the floor, each step dragging me closer to something I can’t control.
We walk into Event Room One, and it’s packed.
Every row is full. There are even people standing along the walls.
All of Alpine Harbor has come to bear witness.
My throat burns as I move down the aisle. A weathered hand reaches out. Beryl. I clasp it, lean down, press a kiss to her silver hair. She squeezes back, steady as stone.
Then Walter takes his place under the arch, and I step beside him. Brandt falls in behind me.
I look at the clock.
1:00 p.m.
Wedding time.
If she’s coming.
The doors stay shut.
I paste on a smile for the crowd, my jaw stiff with the effort.
The minute hand ticks forward.
Nothing.
Another tick.
Still nothing.
My stomach sinks.
Maybe she’s not coming at all.
Every second is a knife to the chest. I knew this was possible.
That she’d choose herself, her career, her life beyond me.
And I guess that’s love. Letting her go.
But maybe real love is grabbing on, refusing to let go, no matter what.
Did I just let her slip through my fingers by trying to do right by her?
Two more minutes crawl by. My pulse is a drumbeat in my ears. My vision blurs. The crowd shifts uncomfortably.
I can’t take it. I can’t stand here one more second with hope bleeding out of me in front of everyone I know.
I turn toward Walter, ready to say it’s over. Ready to let the words rip me apart.
Then—
Music swells.
The room stirs, and the doors finally open.
My sister steps into the light, a bouquet of pink and gold in her hands, sage-green dress swaying with each step. She grins at me, radiant, and my chest caves.
She wouldn’t walk unless—
Please, God.
The doors open wider.
And there she is.
My head drops as relief slams into me, so powerful it nearly takes my knees out from under me.
She’s actually here.
A broken laugh escapes me, and then the tears come hot, fast and completely unstoppable.
I don’t even try to hide them. For the last ten days, I’ve been preparing myself for every possible outcome except this one.
I’ve imagined an empty aisle. The awkward apologies.
The drive home alone. I’ve imagined spending the rest of my life wondering if I should’ve fought harder for her.
But none of that matters anymore because my world is walking toward me. Wrenley. My Wrenley.
She chose me.
And she looks fucking beautiful doing it in her wedding gown that reminds me of when we were in Anchorage. The trip that truly changed everything.
I want to run down the aisle. To scoop her up, kiss her until the crowd vanishes. But I’ve waited ten endless days. I can wait ten more seconds.
She reaches me. I seize her hands like lifelines. Walter starts speaking, but it’s just noise.
There’s only her.
You came, I mouth.
Tears fill her eyes
Forever, she mouths back.
Fuck. I’m the luckiest man in the world.
Walter keeps talking, welcoming everyone and saying something about love and commitment.
A few people laugh, so I force myself to pay enough attention to at least smile at the right moments, but it’s hard to focus when I feel her thumbs brush over mine and my brain keeps replaying two thoughts on loop:
I’m getting married.
Wrenley is mine.
Ruger, Walter says.
I blink while Wrenley bites her lip, fighting a smile.
Sorry. What?
Laughter moves through the room.
Walter grins. I asked if you’re ready to say your vows.
I look at Wrenley and tighten my hold on her hands. Yeah, I am.
Her smile disappears as she looks at me with more affection than I feel like I deserve. Tears slip down her cheeks, and I reach out and wipe them away.
I take a breath. Wrenley, I promise to stand beside you when life gets complicated. To listen when you say you need me to and probably give you my opinion when you don’t.
She laughs through her tears.
I promise to not get mad when you use our couch as a pincushion, even though I’m sure we could get you a far less expensive one.
That was one time, she defends herself.
Hey, these are my vows.
She pouts but lets me continue. I promise to give you a place where you never have to question whether you’re wanted.
Fuck. My throat tightens, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish.
Because you’re always wanted by me. And whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone. I love you, Wrenley St. James.
I pull her hands up and kiss her knuckles.
Damn, Ruger. I turn my head to see Walter wiping a tear. He clears his throat. Wrenley?
Right. She looks up, blinking back tears, then brings her eyes back to mine. I promise to let you continue to serve me mystery hunted meat, even though I kind of miss chicken.
I smile wider.
I promise to one day let you teach me plumbing and any other subtrade you want. She swallows, and fresh tears fill her eyes. But most of all, I promise to never take for granted the way you never made me choose you.
Every trace of humour leaves me.
You gave me the space to decide if this is the life I really wanted, and I promise that I will always give you the same freedom to chase whatever makes you happy.
Her voice breaks. But know that from this day forward, I will choose you every day because you are the one once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I would never forgive myself for not taking.
For a moment, I forget there are people around us. My eyes burn, and I blink hard, but it does fuck all to stop the tears.
I love you, I whisper.
Her smile trembles. I love you too.
Walter clears his throat beside us. Well, I was going to say something profound here, but you two have made that incredibly difficult.
Laughter ripples through the room.
Walter continues with the ceremony, guiding us through the exchange of rings, a couple of cheap silver bands we found in Anchorage. My hands are steady when I slide hers on her finger, but the right of it there sends a swell of pride through my chest.
Walter smiles. Ruger, you may kiss your wife.
My wife.
Fuck. I don’t need to be told twice.
I lift my hand to Wrenley’s cheek, brushing away some of her tears with my thumbs. It’s a fruitless task because for every tear I wipe away, two more seem to appear.
Then I kiss her.
Her hands grip the front of my jacket as I pull her closer, my other arm circling around her waist. Wrenley rises on her toes and presses closer, forcing the kiss to deepen.
Applause erupts around us. Someone whistles while Walter lets out a cheer loud enough to carry all the way to Anchorage.
I smile against Wrenley’s lips, then kiss my wife again as everyone we love claps around us.
The ceremony was short and sweet. Perfect, really. But this reception? It’s dragging. The clock says it’s only been a couple of hours, but it feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to get my wife alone.
My wife.
I will never, as long as I breathe, get tired of calling her that. Of the certainty between us. Of knowing she chose me.
Across the room, Wrenley is laughing with Remi and Audrey, her head tipped back, curls bouncing. The sight nearly undoes me. There she is, fitting in so effortlessly it feels like she was always meant to be here.
I make my way through the crowd, not caring if I look like a man on a mission because I am. When I slip up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and lower my mouth to her ear, giving her a playful nibble.
Ew. Remi scrunches her face in mock disgust.
Oh, come on, Audrey says. They’re cute.
Remi clicks her tongue. They should save that for when they’re home.