Corinne opened it and there she was. Four years old, her curls pinned back with tiny pearls, a delicate flower crown sitting crooked on her head, and her fluffy white dress making her look like a petal spun into life.
"Hi, Brittany," she said shyly, holding a tiny basket of rose petals.
I knelt down, brushing a strand from her cheek. "You look like an angel, baby. Are you ready to be the most important part of the wedding?"
She giggled. "I thought you were the most important. Daddy said you are."
My heart flipped.
“Can I walk with you?” she asked.
“Of course you can.” I kissed her cheek. She smelled like strawberries and innocence.
Then came the knock that made my breath catch.
“It’s time,” someone said. And when I turned, my father stood there.
He looked dashing in his black tux, his senator’s posture upright and proud, his eyes rimmed in red. He stared at me like I was the sun.
“Hi, Daddy,” I whispered.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He stepped forward, pulling me into a hug. “You take my breath away. You always have.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of cedar and citrus, grounding me.
“I’m honored to walk you down that aisle today.”
“I’m honored to be your daughter,” I said, my voice shaking.
He looked over my shoulder. “Is she ready?”
We turned to Karla, now standing beside Sierra, who had just entered quietly, her eyes full of proud tears.
Sierra came to me, taking my hands. “I’m so proud of you, Britt. And thank you—for loving Karla like your own. For loving Ace the way he deserves.”
“I love you,” I whispered.
She smiled. “I love you too. Now go—he’s waiting.”
The music began—soft strings building slowly. My stomach fluttered.
Tate winked. "It’s time."
The aisle was a path of white rose petals, the soft crunch under our feet as Karla and I walked together in perfect rhythm. The entire glass dome had been transformed into a fairytale garden, open to the soft sky of late afternoon, drenched in golden light. Ivy hung from the ceiling beams, and chandeliers floated above like enchanted stars.
Everyone stood. I caught glimpses—Jasper with Nathan on his lap, Astrid adjusting her little brother’s bow tie, Kyle already crying like a baby, and Colt babbling loudly in Corinne’s arms.
Then I saw him.
Aceson Rivera.
He looked like everything I had waited my whole life for. Black tux, no tie, a boutonnière matching my bouquet. His hair brushed back just the way I liked. But it was his eyes that undid me—wide, wet, wonderstruck.
He didn’t smile. He cried.
Tears streamed silently down his cheeks, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.
Karla ran ahead, dropping petals as she skipped.
