He grins. “You don’t. Just keep holding my hand in public—it worked out pretty well last time.”
Chapter 41
Gray
7 months later
The morning sun creeps over the French Quarter, casting a golden haze through the open balcony doors. I woke up before dawn, nerves humming beneath my skin—not from fear, but from anticipation.
I slip outside with my coffee and sink into the weathered wooden chair overlooking the street. New Orleans stirs below, slow and sleepy, but up here it’s quiet.
I cradle the mug in my hands and breathe deep.
I open my journal, the same one I’ve carried for the past couple years. I flip to the back, where pages are filled with prayers I’ve written over time—some desperate, some grateful, some unfinished. My fingers still on the one I wrote eighteen months ago, the morning I met her.
I didn’t know her name then. Didn’t know that the girl who grabbed my hand on a dare would eventually grab hold of my heart in ways I never saw coming. I didn’t know she’d be the one I’d wait for. The one I’d fall in love with. The one I’d pray over, wrestle for, surrender to God again and again until He brought her back in a way only He could.
And today…she becomes my wife.
I scribble one more entry, hand a little shaky with the weight of it all.
September 22nd,
Lord, today is the day. I don’t know how You do it, but You always exceed anything I could ever ask for. Ivy is a gift I never saw coming but always hoped for. Help me to love her like You love. Help me lead her with gentleness and joy. Let today be full of peace, full of Your presence. I surrender this day to You. Thank You for letting me be hers.
I set the pen down, press my palms together, and let my eyes close for a moment.
Because in a few hours, she’ll be walking toward me.
And I’ll be standing there, heart wide open, ready to vow forever.
They tell you not to look. That the moment she walks down the aisle should be the first time you see her.
But I couldn’t wait that long.
We’re tucked behind the courtyard where the ceremony will take place—hidden from guests, from the whirlwind of planning and nerves. Just me, my pounding heart, and the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.
“Ivy’s coming,” the photographer says, quietly.
I turn to face the stone wall, swallowing hard, my palmsalready sweating. I flex my fingers at my sides. Inhale. Exhale. I didn’t expect to feel this undone.
“Okay, you can turn around.”
I pivot slowly, not sure I’m ready for what’s about to hit me.
But nothing could’ve prepared me anyway.
There she is.
Ivy.
Hair curled soft around her shoulders, eyes lit like the sun, lips trembling with the start of a smile. Her dress is simple and elegant, the fabric hugging her like it was sewn just for this day, just for her. Gold jewelry glints in the light, but none of it shines like she does.
And when her eyes meet mine…
I lose it.
A laugh breaks out of me, cracked and choked at the edges, and I swipe at my eyes before the tears get the better of me.
