“Wait until after the ceremony. I might not win.”
She snorts. “Like I care about that stupid statuette. It doesn’t add to your value as a man or a husband.”
I run the back of my fingers down her cheek. I don’t answer because what is there to say when someone already sees all of you and loves you anyway?
She leans back slightly and smiles. “I went to Will’s room earlier. Helped him get ready. I told you we did well to buy that extra tuxedo.”
God, this woman.
It’s not just that she loves me. It’s the way she shows up for the people I love, too, without fanfare or expectation. Just because it’s who she is.
My family adores her. She brings them homemade biscuits and makes them laugh until they cry, and remembers every little thing that matters. But with Will… it’s different.
He’s not easy to love. Our Will is chaos and charm and deep, unresolved pain that he covers with wit and deflection. But she sees through all of it and watches him like a hawk. Checks in when he spirals. Invites him to our home for days or weeks when he crashes so hard he forgets how to breathe.
She loves him. Cares for him. Not because he’s my best friend, but because he’s part of her tribe too.
And that kind of love? The quiet, constant kind that wraps around the people who matter to me turns a good partner into something else entirely.
My soulmate. My home.
When we get down to the lobby, Will is already waiting, sharp in his tux and smirking like he owns the place.
“You look beautiful,” he says with exaggerated sincerity.
“Thank you,” Amy replies softly, ducking her head a little.
He pauses, then tilts his head with mock offense. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart. I meanthim.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile curves knowingly. “I can’t even be mad. My husband is beautiful.”
The word hits me in the chest like it always does.Husband.That shiver of possessiveness, of pride, rushes through me, and I squeeze her hand, grounding myself in the feel of her fingers wrapped in mine.
Together, the three of us step outside into the waiting flashbulbs and fanfare, but I only see her.
Will slides into the seat opposite us with his usual dramatic flair, straightening his bow tie like he’s about to walk the runway.
“I hope you're ready for the avalanche of cameras,” he mutters. “I put on moisturizer and my best fake smile, so I expect at least three flattering photos.”
Amy grins. “You’ll outshine us all.”
“Obviously.” He tosses her a wink, then glances at me. “But if you so much as sweat during this speech, I’m pulling focus. Tears, Jake. Real ones. I want people ugly crying at home.”
Amy kicks him gently. “Ignore him. Just speak from the heart.”
I glance between the two of them, one chaotic, one grounding, both of them my anchors, and let the nerves ebb just a little.
The car pulls up to the venue, and it’s all light and noise and movement. But I step out with Amy’s hand in mine, and everything else quiets.
She shines under the lights. She stands beside me, not behind me. She smiles for the cameras, not for validation but because she knows who she is now. If they saw what I see when I look at her… they’d understand that she’s my star here. I’m just the guy lucky enough to orbit her.
And I know the world sees it too. Not just Jake Hollander and the girl who broke the internet. But a team. A unit.
A love that survived everything.
She turns to me as the cameras flash, her voice barely audible over the frenzy. “You okay?”
I brush a thumb over her knuckles. “I will be. As long as you’re right here.”
