45. Emerson
EMERSON
SIX MONTHS LATER
“Your mom would have loved this,” my father says as he smooths the lapels of his dark gray suit jacket, his voice strained with emotion as he finally meets my gaze.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do this the first time,” I tell him, knowing I won’t be able to keep my composure if we start talking about Mom.
Because she should be here, and while Garrett’s parents are fine, I don’t think we’ll ever be close, making the ache in my heart widen at never getting to have that kind of connection.
“Well…” He smiles, his hair much grayer at his temples with streaks of silver running through the previously all black strands.
He’s handsome. Distinguished. And even though Mom isn’t here, I know I won’t take for granted the time I have with him.
“I think we’re all a little disappointed we missed Elvis. ”
I kind of love that Garrett and I will always have Vegas. We’d been so carefree.
Fun.
Sexy.
It’d been a game—a harmless little wager that transformed into something beautifully unexpected. It made me see so much more of the life I should be living. Garrett may have found strength in me, but I found solace in him—something I’ve never truly had before.
And maybe I never quite believed that I could be loved the way that Garrett loves me—that my job and personality would prevent me from finding the one.
But it didn’t.
Garrett North, lead singer of Descending North, rock star god and my absolute favorite person on the planet, saw me in Vegas and thought mine.
And he never let go.
Not even that day in my office.
Because that song he wrote me is imprinted on my soul—the lyrics speaking to me in a way I never fully understood until I met the man whose last name I still won’t be taking.
Maybe.
Probably.
“It was definitely a festive occasion.” I grin, admiring the formfitting white lace dress that I had custom-made by Isla’s friend in Clementine Creek. It’s gorgeous in a way that I’ve never felt before.
Maybe because I’ve never been a bride.
The thought has my red lips widening into a beaming smile that my father notices, his eyes welling with tears.
“You’re stunning.”
“I’m happy.”
“You deserve all of it and more.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“Emerson,” Theo says, a clipboard in his hand and a serious expression on his face. Garrett and I told him we didn’t need a wedding planner but he scoffed—and insisted—plus he needed a distraction.
So, we didn’t fight him.
“Yes?”
“Are you ready? It’s time.”
My stomach flips like a swarm of butterflies have suddenly erupted, the feeling so ridiculous because Garrett and I are already married.
So why am I nervous?
“I’m ready,” I tell him and he smiles, the look filled with adoration that has me blinking back tears. I’m still Emerson Fucking Andrews—I’m just a little softer these days.
But only for the people I love.
“You are the perfect bride,” he says before clearing his throat, “and now I need you to do the perfect walk and smile.”
“Bossy,” I tease and he rolls his eyes.
“If I don’t get to plan my own wedding, you can at least let me be a bridezilla for yours.”
“Theo—”
“Nope.” He holds up his free hand. “Today is about you and lace and your rock star husband—and a lifetime of happiness because I love you both and I’m honored that you let me do all of this for you.”
Taking a step toward him, I cup his face in my hands. “We love you so much and we’re the ones honored to have you care enough to do this.” I press a kiss to his forehead and pull away, brushing my thumb over the spot even though my lipstick is smudge proof.
Much to Garrett’s dismay.
Doesn’t stop him from trying though.
“Stop that,” he hisses, moving out of my hold to fan his face with the clipboard as he stares at the ceiling and blinks rapidly.
“Let’s go before they think we got lost,” my father jokes, as Theo straightens and peeks his head out the door, motioning for the band to start.
Garrett’s band.
But instead of him on the microphone, it’s Maverick’s sister Henley, her sultry voice crooning the words to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” as sung by Elvis.
It’s perfect.
Just like the man waiting for me at the end of the rolled-out white carpet in our backyard that’s wildly more extravagant than either of us would have preferred.
But it fits.
Because we can do it all—fancy and cozy and everything in between.
Just as long as we’re together.