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The sun isa kiss on my shoulders from the moment I step outside. The breeze tugs at the pins in my hair, my dress.
My friends and family are seated in three rows.
Our officiant is serene up front.
But my eyes are locked on the man next to the altar.
Tyler.
The boy I fell for is a man. One who fills out his tailored tuxedo to perfection, his tattooed hands flexing at his sides as he spots me.
His expression transforms from anticipation to adoration and disbelief.
Memories flood me.
The first time I saw Tyler, the boy with the blue hair and enough talent to steal the world.
Sharing jokes and bands over cheese fries.
Messing around in the studio.
Stumbling into the pool house only to have him pin me up against the wall, an angry, protective god.
The way he went to the prom for me, but not with me. How he carried me to bed after, the way he kissed me as if I was the only thing he needed.
Our first time in college after landing the showcase.
The night he gave me the ring around my neck.
The stage where he gave me the one that’s heavy, solid on my finger.
Dad and I make our way up the sand path that’s strewn with purple rose petals. My heart is expanding so big I can’t feel anything but the tingling and stretching.
I’m a balloon, ready to lift off.
Dad’s arm is a support, my fingers digging in as the sand is loose beneath my feet.
My love is tall and strong and handsome. Tyler’s face is solemn, filled with love and awe and so much devotion I could die.
I spent my life wanting to be on a stage. This is the only one that matters. Here, with him.
His attention, his caring, his support. It sustains me in a way I never expected.
Muffled sounds have me cutting a look toward our family and friends.
Haley’s watching, rapt, pushing Mason’s stroller back and forth with one hand as Sophie bounces in her seat.
Pen’s grinning, as is Beck. Rae’s sitting straight in her chair, a reluctant smile on her face. Even Elle looks charmed for a woman who’d rather be at a funeral than a wedding.
The Wicked artists are there too. Finn nods, one arm slung easily over the back of the chair next to him.
Dad stops next to the altar, and I do too. I press a kiss to his cheek. He cuts a look at the man over my shoulder before opening his mouth to address Tyler.
“I know,” my fiancé says.
Dad nods and moves back to join Haley.
