Page 40 of When We Were Us

Oliver shook his head. "No. I didn't have time. You know my history."

A warmth spread through my chest as I gazed at him. "I'm glad you picked me."

His eyes softened, filled with love. "Not more than I am. You make me whole. You were the missing piece to my life."

I leaned against him, savoring the feel of his arm wrapping around me. As we sat there, surrounded by the warmth and laughter of our loved ones, I couldn't help but think about tomorrow. Our wedding day. The start of our forever.

I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs. Brenda's concerned face swam into focus above me, her usually flawless features etched with worry.

"Miss Stewart, are you all right?" she asked, her voice gentle but firm.

I blinked, trying to shake off the lingering tendrils of my nightmare. "I... I had a bad dream," I managed, my voice hoarse.

Brenda perched on the edge of my bed; her pajamas rumpled from sleep. "You woke me. I heard you screaming from my bedroom."

Guilt washed over me. "I'm so sorry," I mumbled, pushing myself up against the headboard.

She waved off my apology. " Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, running a hand through my tangled hair. "No, it's the usual. Just wedding stress, I think. It's been a few weeks since I had one this bad."

"In just a few hours, you'll be married," Brenda reminded me, a small smile playing on her lips.

I glanced at the clock: 5:15 a.m. In less than two hours, I'd need to be up and preparing for the whirlwind day ahead. My stomach fluttered with a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Thank you," I said, offering Brenda a weak smile. "You can go back to sleep."

She hesitated, studying my face. "As long as you're all right."

A question bubbled up, surprising even me. "Brenda, have you ever been married?"

She settled more comfortably on the bed, her expression softening. "No, but I came close. I was engaged when I was your age."

"It didn't work out?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

Brenda's gaze grew distant. "We were both in security. When you travel constantly, the time you spend with loved ones is minimal. It just... fell apart."

I tilted my head, considering her words. "Will you ever get married?"

A wistful smile crossed her face. "One day. I want to have children."

"It must be hard working this way," I mused. "Your job is almost twenty-four seven."

Brenda shrugged, her smile turning more genuine. "It's not really. Mr. Fox pays us well to do what we do. I enjoy my work, and I get to go to places I might never see otherwise."

I frowned, unconvinced. "But it must be difficult sometimes."

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But I love it. Maybe in a year or two, I'll think differently and want to settle down, but not right now."

She patted my foot and stood, heading back to her room. I turned onto my side, watching as the first rays of sunlight painted the patio before spilling through the window. The anxiety in my stomach didn't subside, but it mellowed into a more manageable buzz of anticipation.

When my alarm finally went off, I dragged myself out of bed. Four hours until I needed to be at my brother's apartment. Four hours closer to becoming Mrs. Fox.

The thought of our five hundred and thirty-two guests made my head spin. The chapel at The SW could seat three hundred, but I was certain there'd be standing room only. I tried to push the image from my mind as I drew a bath, pouring in lime basil beads.

My reflection in the mirror looked pale and tired – something I doubted coffee could fix, but makeup certainly would. I soaked in the tub for nearly an hour, refreshing the water and scrolling through social media, allowing myself a few posts of my own.

After a quick shower to rinse off the bubbles and wash my hair, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel. I pulled my damp hair into a ponytail and changed into white shorts and a powder blue shirt – the same shade as the bridesmaid dresses I'd chosen.

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