Chapter 29
Ella
Jesse and I just finished up a Bible study. We haven’t done one in weeks. I’ve been working a lot and wedding planning in between it all. I know it’s no excuse, but I told him from here on out I want him to make sure we do one at least once a week.
“We’re about due for a night out, I think. Maybe dinner or something? Saturday?” He suggests.
I shake my head. “I’m going dress shopping all day Saturday. And Sunday we meet with that caterer, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right.” He stands up to pour us another glass of wine. “Who all is going dress shopping again? Do I have to do anything?”
I laugh. “No. It’s just your mom and Addie.”
Handing me the glass, he sits back beside me. “Your mom didn’t wanna come up for it?” he asks, watching me take a sip.
“I didn’t ask her to come.”
He pulls back. “What do you mean you didn’t invite your mom wedding dress shopping?”
“She isn’t gonna fly up for that … !” I insist.
“You should still invite her. You don’t know, maybe she’d come.”
“She isn’t.” I laugh.
Jesse’s voice changes. “Ella.” He warns. “After everything that went on between you guys, maybe you should be the bigger person.”
I flash an angry glance at him. “Excuse me?!”
“You know that’s the right thing to do.”
I gesture a hand. “Don’t start that crap with me.”
“You want me to lead in this relationship, don’t you? To help us grow together?” His voice is firm but not unkind. I press my lips together, holding back a response I might regret. He’s right, I know he is. I’m just being stubborn.
He continues, “We’re getting married in a few months, sweetheart. You can wait until then to let me lead, or we can start now. I’m not trying to sound preachy. I just want us to be the best we can be, together.”
My fingers play with the fabric on the bottom of my shirt. “I’ll text her after I shower,” I mutter and stand.
As I let the water run through my hair and down my body, my mind replays the conversation with Jesse.
I was rude, I shouldn’t have gotten so hostile.
I just … I’m nervous to ask my mom about doing anything other than attend our wedding.
The idea of her coming up and spending extra time with everyone stresses me out.
The drama that could ensue is unknown and not something I need to add onto my plate.
I get dressed and head back out to find him on the couch, scrolling his phone. I sit beside him. He meets my gaze and sets his phone down.
“I’m sorry for lashing out,” I admit.
He pats my leg. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. Being the bigger person is always the right thing, and I denied it because I was frustrated.”
“I said it was okay.”
I scoot closer to him. He puts an arm around me and I lay my head against his shoulder. I got lucky with him. He’s always so forgiving, gentle, patient. I need to be careful I don’t take advantage of it.
* * *
Standing in front of a full-length mirror, I run my hands down a lace gown, studying myself in it for a brief moment before stepping out to show Maureen, Addison, and my mom.
I was shocked she flew in for this. Only having a couple days’ notice, she packed a bag, bought a plane ticket, and flew up here.
She’s staying with me, and it’s actually been fun. We had a heart-to-heart. That was really hard for me to bring up, but I did. I’m proud of myself, and the fact it went well was a nice reward.
I expressed how much she and Dad made me feel like a bad person for not going through with marrying Tim.
She apologized, saying she hates how she reacted to it all.
I told her she has no idea the truth behind things that went on between us.
The things Tim and I fought about won’t even be close to a problem between Jesse and me.
We’ll have our fair share of arguments and what not, obviously, but Tim’s and my issues were mainly just stupid and immature.
He was three years younger than me, and I think his ego and lack of empathy were his biggest problems.
I step out of the dressing room, studying everyone’s expressions as I make my way to the small pedestal in the middle of the room.
“Wow,” Maureen says, her eyes bright.
“That’s pretty!” Addison exclaims.
“What do you think, Mom?” I look to her through the mirror.
She sits up. “I think it’s pretty, but it’s not you, like that last one was.”
“That last one was my favorite so far too,” Maureen adds.
I look back at myself in the trifold mirror, turning to see all the angles.
The dress is beautiful, though a little revealing for my taste with the V-neckline.
It’s tightly fitted against the rest of my body but flares at the end.
I don’t love it on me. I thought I’d like this mermaid style, but it’s actually not my favorite.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It doesn’t feel quite like me.”
Maureen claps her hands together. “That just means we get to try more! This is so fun!”
We all laugh at her excitement and joy. She’s the best. I’m so lucky she’s going to be my mother-in-law.
I try on a few more, but none stand out to me. Whether it’s the style, the neckline, or the fit, I just don’t love any yet. I’m starting to get a little discouraged. Being as laid back and carefree as I am, I didn’t think it would be this complicated.
The next one I put on, though—I know it’s the one before I even get out to show anyone. It’s comfortable, not too showy, and the lace detail is gorgeous as it travels over the loose, sheer sleeves. I’m in love with it.
My nerves tangle, hoping no one disagrees, as I step out with the consultant behind me.
Maureen gasps. “Oh. My. Yes.”
“Ella, that is stunning on you,” Addison adds.
I hold my breath as I look to my mom, anxious to hear her opinion.
She smiles. “Now this one is you. That has your name written all over it,” she says.
“Yeah. I want it.” I laugh and look at the mirror, checking out all the angles. Maureen wipes the corner of her eye and even Addison looks emotional.
“If you guys are crying, Jesse better cry like a baby,” I tease.
“He was going to cry regardless.” Maureen laughs.
Addison nods. “A hundred percent.”
I take one final look, and it feels so much more real now.
This is what I’ll be wearing when we promise each other forever.
It’s been ten years since we first dreamed of this moment, and yet it feels like no time has passed.
I’m overwhelmed with gratitude, knowing we found our way back to each other.
I can hardly believe it’s finally all falling into place.
* * *
We’re in Jesse’s truck, driving to meet with the caterer for our reception.
As excited as I am to check another thing off the list, I’m a little distracted.
My landlord just texted, reminding that my lease is up in June, which is next month, and he’d like to know if I’ll be renewing or not.
Signing on for another year is stupid. I’d waste a lot of money.
Jesse and I are getting married in August. We decided the summer time is more practical.
It was selfish of me to want a fall wedding with his work and the business.
Besides, the sooner the better. I just want to get on with it all and start our lives together.
We’ve waited long enough. Had everything worked out years ago, we’d probably have a kid or two by now.
Granted, I’m not even thirty yet, so I have a few years before I have to worry about my fertility becoming an issue.
I think about the idea of moving in early …
not sure how that would go or if Jesse would even go for it.
If he didn’t have a spare bedroom, it definitely wouldn’t be able to work.
But with the boundaries we have set for ourselves, I have confidence we’d be able to achieve it.
We’ve made it this far already and, trust me, there’ve been plenty of opportunities to break our rules.
“So, my lease is up next month,” I say without much warning.
His eyes study mine. “Oh, really?”
I nod. “ What should I do?”
He adjusts himself in his seat, heavy in thought. “Damn it.” He huffs.
“I was thinking …” I pause, second guessing myself for a moment. “ Why don’t I just move in awhile, stay in the—”
He cuts me off. “Absolutely not.” His voice is firmer than I hope he was intending. He shakes his head. “Ella. No.”
“In the spare?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“That’s not … no. We’re not doing that. It’s not the right thing to do.”
“But we’re not going to—”
“It’s too tempting, babe.”
“So it’ll be a good test for self-control?”
“You think I need a test? I’m already at my limit, sweetheart.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms. “But it’s thousands of dollars going to waste all because you don’t know how to keep your hands off me.”
He scoffs but laughs slightly. I’m staring out the window, but I can feel Jesse’s eyes on me, studying me, my frustrated mood.
“How ’bout you move into the hunters’ lodge?” he calls out in the silence.
There’s an idea. I didn’t even think about that. That cabin is vacant until September. It would be perfect timing. I know it’s not much, given it’s a hunting cabin and meant for basically just sleeping in, but at least it gets me out of paying for an apartment I’m not even living at.
“Okay.”
“It’s pretty bare but—”
“It’s better than wasting money. And it’s only for the summer.”
“I can run it by Dad, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Relief and excitement hit me. I can save money and be closer to him. The only downside is losing the convenience of being near the hospital, but I was going to have to adjust to the forty-five-minute drive anyway.
* * *
We settled on the main meal and appetizers, now it’s time for the cake. I’m excited; Jesse’s stuffed already, but that’s okay, just means more for me.
The caterers set up all the samples and leave us alone so we can discuss our honest opinions with each other and not hurt anyone’s feelings.
We start with the chocolate raspberry. It’s really good but I don’t want a dark wedding cake. It’ll get stuck in my teeth and I don’t want to stain our clothes when we smash it against each other’s faces.
“I think this one looks good,” Jesse says, digging his fork into another slice and into his mouth. I read the label and hold in a laugh.
His face says it all as he forces it down. “That tastes like feet.” He reaches for his water and I start cackling. It was carrot cake. He hates carrot cake.
“I could’ve told you that.”
“What’s this one?” he asks, already digging into it.
“Honey lavender,” I read.
“Eh.” He pulls his fork and goes for another instead.
“This one?”
“Lemon strawberry.”
He groans. “Did they do plain flavors? Vanilla? Chocolate?”
I laugh. “Yes. But you can’t be so closed-minded, honey,” my voice playful.
“I’m not closed-minded. I just don’t think cake and soap should have the same name.”
“Jesse.” I cock my head at him with a grin on my face.
“Ella.” He bats his blue eyes at me.
I blush. The way he says my name makes my stomach swarm in the best way. He’s just as flirtatious as he’s always been, and I hope that never stops.