Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Wes
“Still breathing?” Ford’s voice cuts through the noise in my head as he gives my shoulder a firm squeeze. Jesse and Noah stand with us. They all look far calmer than I feel.
I nod at Ford, who looks every bit the part of best man in his tailored tuxedo.
I smooth an imaginary wrinkle from the front of my suit jacket, my heart pounding.
The swimmy feeling in my chest isn’t nerves, it’s anticipation.
I can’t wait to watch my wife walk toward me.
I can’t wait to marry her all over again.
Today’s ceremony will be nothing like our first one.
I look over the space in front of us. Rows of ivory chairs overlook the water, all of them filled with family and friends.
White roses and soft greenery line the aisle, swaying gently in the early-summer breeze.
Beyond them, the Pacific Ocean stretches to the horizon, sunlight dancing across the waves.
It’s breathtaking.
So is the woman who planned every last detail of today. Lottie has orchestrated hundreds of weddings and now she finally gets one of her own.
The irony isn’t lost on me. The first time we stood together in front of an officiant, there were no flowers, no music, no family or friends. Not even a photo to remember the day. It was just the two of us making a promise we didn’t think would really be forever.
Today is different. My Peach gets her white dress, the flowers, our families.
I hired three photographers to capture every moment of our day knowing Lottie still kicks herself for not having at least one from the first time we said I do.
She gets everything, because that’s exactly what she deserves.
I draw in a slow breath.
I’ve landed airplanes in sideways winds, navigated storms that turned the sky black, but nothing has ever made my heart pound like this, waiting to see my wife walk toward me.
Lottie has spent months planning every moment of this wedding.
She had what she called an “obscenely unnecessary” budget to work with.
She’d looked at the number, then back at me, and she’d laughed.
She said something about being able to buy a small island with that much money.
I’d reminded her she was marrying a millionaire, and then she’d reminded me that didn’t mean we had to spend money like one.
In the end, she used barely half of what I’d set aside.
“I care much more about having the right people there than the right flowers,” she’d said. That’s Lottie.
She’s never cared about extravagance. And yet somehow, she has created the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen.
My gaze drifts over our guests, all of whom have helped shape our lives.
My dad is even here—he’s home now from rehab and looking healthier than he has in years.
Beside him is my uncle, the man who took me in after I graduated high school and first put a set of airplane controls beneath my hands.
He catches my eye and gives me the smallest nod.
There are people here who knew me long before Cove, before the money, before life became more complicated than I ever could have imagined.
Across the aisle, Lottie’s grandparents chat quietly with her aunts and uncles, laughing and smiling.
They aren’t just here for a wedding, they’re here to watch two families become one.
At the far end of the aisle, James stands beside Claire, one hand wrapped around the handle of his polished wooden cane.
Even from here, I can see how much the last few months have taken from him.
He hasn’t been well. Watching him grow weaker has been hard on us all, but most of all Lottie.
She’s been spending every afternoon at her parents’ house, soaking up every conversation, every story and every smile he’s able to give.
My throat tightens. But today we’re not focusing on James’s illness. We’re celebrating the fact that he’s here, and that he wouldn’t miss walking his daughter down the aisle for anything. I don’t think there will be a dry eye in the crowd when he does.
The opening notes of the processional drift across the lawn, and every conversation comes to an immediate halt as all eyes turn toward the aisle.
Poppy appears first, and a ripple of laughter and quiet awws sweeps through the guests.
She’s wearing an ivory tulle dress with a pale green sash tied around her waist, her curls pinned back with tiny white flowers.
She takes her job very seriously, scattering handfuls of petals with careful precision.
By the time she reaches the alter, she looks impossibly proud of herself.
Ford smiles fiercely beside me. There isn’t a title in the world that my brother wears more proudly than Dad.
A few moments later, Landyn steps into view.
Her sage-green chiffon gown skimming over the soft curve of her pregnant belly as it moves in the ocean breeze.
A bouquet of ivory garden roses are cradled in her hands as she makes her way to the alter.
Harper follows just behind her and then Madeline appears, one hand resting instinctively over the pronounced curve of her pregnant belly as she walks.
She catches Jesse’s eye for the briefest second, and his entire face softens as she reaches her place beside the other bridesmaids.
I can’t help smiling. The Winters family is growing. Love has a funny way of changing people. Apparently, I’m not the only Winters brother who learned that the hard way.
“Please rise.”
I barely notice as our friends and family get to their feet. My eyes are already fixed on the end of the aisle, every ounce of air leaving my lungs as Lottie stands between her parents, one hand tucked through her father’s arm, the other resting lightly over Claire’s.
She’s breathtaking. Her dress is timeless—a sleek satin silhouette that skims every curve before falling effortlessly to the ground.
Her chestnut hair tumbles over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the late-summer sunlight with every movement, and a cathedral-length veil drifts behind her in the ocean breeze.
The dress is simple but elegant—she doesn’t need anything extravagant.
She never has. Lottie shines all on her own.
Our eyes meet and her smile trembles. Mine does too.
Lottie and her parents begin the slow walk toward me. Every measured step feels like a gift. Every second another memory Lottie will get to keep forever.
I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed anything more beautiful than a father summoning every ounce of strength he has left to give his daughter the moment she deserves.
And standing at the end of the aisle, I know with absolute certainty that I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure his strength wasn’t spent in vain.
As she draws closer, I swear the world stops spinning. I’ve spent years chasing horizons, convinced the sky was the most beautiful thing I’d ever know. I was wrong. She’s the horizon now. She’s the place my eyes search for. The place my heart always comes back to.
The music fades as they stop in front of me. Lottie looks up at me through tear-filled eyes, her smile so beautiful it steals whatever breath I had left.
The officiant smiles warmly. “Who has the honor of presenting this woman in marriage?”
James’s fingers tighten gently around Lottie’s arm. He looks at her first then his gaze lifts to mine with watery eyes. “So very proudly…” His voice catches. “…her mother and I do.”
James turns toward Lottie, lifting a trembling hand to brush a loose strand of hair away from her face. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”
Her chin quivers. “So do you, Dad,” she whispers.
He lets out a soft laugh. “I think you’re lying to make an old man feel good.”
She shakes her head, tears slipping free. “I’ve never told you anything truer.”
My chest aches. James smiles then he slowly takes Lottie’s hand and places it in mine.
“I’ve been worried about her,” he says quietly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I don’t have to be anymore.”
Emotion swells so quickly in my chest it nearly brings me to my knees. “No,” I say, my voice rough. “You don’t.” I wrap my fingers around Lottie’s hand. “I’ve got her.”
He gives our joined hands one last squeeze before releasing them then, before stepping away, he reaches up and pulls me into a hug, the kind that says everything words can’t. His voice is barely above a whisper against my ear. “Take care of my little girl.”
I hold him a little tighter. “With everything I have.”
He nods once, slowly stepping back. Claire slips her arm around his waist, steadying him as they make their way to the front row together.
I watch them for a moment before I turn back to my bride.
She smiles through tears, and I smile back.
There she is.
The woman I’ll choose today and for the rest of my life.