I wasn’t sure what had driven me to pick the location I had, but I couldn’t deny that it was fucking hilarious to be standing outside that same stupid chapel in Vegas in the dead of the Nevada winter. I was thankful, at least, that it wasn’t actually freezing outside and felt instead like a San Francisco spring day, even if it was dry.
I stood by the doors next to a fully done-up Sophie, her freshly bleached hair curled into waves and tucked up into a bun. Her mid-thigh, navy dress screamed luxury from the little details that covered every inch. Damien hadn’t given me a budget, and I’d used that to my advantage since the venue itself was dirt cheap. I spared no expense on my dress, either, and had opted to have it custom made. Every option I’d seen in stores has been made to either hide the bump or accentuate it, and I didn’t want either of those. I wasn’t going to walk down the aisle in a grecian dress trying to conceal what we’d done, and I wasn’t going to make it the center of attention.
Instead, I rushed the custom order, opting for a flowing, layered silk chiffon, with little ruffles on the off-the-shoulder sleeves and embroidered flowers. It was simple, but it was perfect, and I felt on top of the Goddamn world.
But it was still weird to be there sober.
“You ready for this?” she asked, giving me a little pat on the bump as the music inside began to play. It was the one song I’d always wanted to walk down the aisle to, the song I saw on my favorite show as a kid when the uncle got married.
I grinned at her. “Absolutely.”
The woman who had taken our payment months ago opened the doors for me instead this time, and the small chapel hall was half filled instead of empty. My parents hadn’t agreed to come but had given me their blessing, so James stood in their place, his white suit jacket and bow tie looking way more formal than anything I’d seen him in. Beside him, his long-term girlfriend, Erin, beamed at me, offering me a little wave.
Ethan, Carrie, and Damien’s parents stood on his side. I hadn’t had the chance to meet them formally yet as they had only arrived this morning, but I hoped they were as nice and cheerful about this as they seemed as they watched me stand awkwardly next to my best friend at the other end of the chapel.
And of course, at the very end of the center aisle beside The King of Rock and Roll himself, stood the two men I was most excited to see.
Damien, and almost obscured next to his father, Noah.
Elvis’ dramatic, played-up scowl as The Beach Boys began to sing Forever nearly made me stop in my tracks and laugh. But Sophie ushered me forward, and I crossed the threshold into the sticky carpeted chapel, eyes locked on Damien and the practically vibrating Noah.
Damien’s endless grin was everything I could have ever hoped for.
Let the love I have for you live in your heart and beat forever, The Beach Boys sang, and stepped past my brother, his thumbs up lost in my concentration on what was in front of me. Noah held a little pillow in his white-knuckled grip, two gold bands sitting atop it, and in a moment of haste, he held them out to me.
“Not yet, bud,” Damien laughed.
“Now,” Elvis said quietly, his upper lip twitching on one side. “This better be the last time I have you two in this chapel.”
“Nah, I think we might come do this once a year,” Damien grinned, one arm coming out to welcome me into the small space on the raised platform. He pressed a kiss against my temple, his lips hovering for just a second, and whispered, “You look just as beautiful as the day I married you the first time.”
I snorted. “I was drunk as shit the first time.”
Noah lifted the rings again. “Liv,” he whispered. “I’ve got the rings. Don’t worry.”
“You are doing such a good job of looking after them, bud, just hold on to them a little bit longer—”
“Beautiful people! We are gathered here today to celebrate the endless burnin’ love of Damien Blackwood and Olivia Martin,” Elvis started, and all at once, my future was sealed.
