Fi an awkward glance. “Izzy has emptied her basket of rose petals already, and poor Charlotte keeps picking them up and putting them back in for her.”
Alexis laughs. “Is my daughter fussing over minor perfections?”
Both Mum and Dad say, “Yes.”
She laughs again. “That’s my girl.”
Fi, Mum, Alexis, and Carly file out of the room, and as I’m about to follow them, Dad lets go of the door and gently places his hands on my shoulders.
“My princess—” He clears his throat. “—you look beautiful.”
I slide my arms around his waist. “Thanks, Dad. I feel beautiful.”
“Whether you feel it or not, you always are and always have been.”
Tears once again prick my eyes, and I inwardly curse them. “Stop it. You’re making me cry.”
He reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, pulls out a handkerchief, then gently dabs the tip of it to the corners of my eyes.
“Thank you. Thank you for always having faith in me to find what I was looking for in my own time.”
“I’ve always had faith in you, darling. Your life is your own. It always has been, and it always will be.” He pockets the hankie again. “Now, let’s get you married to your prince.”
Holding out his arm, I loop mine around his and walk beside him.
He stops. “Why are you limping?”
I laugh. “You’ll see.”
With Dad’s assistance, I hobble down the mahogany spiral staircase and out into the garden, hundreds of white, plump roses in bloom, their sweet perfume filling the air. The sun beams high in the sky, a gentle breeze providing the perfect temperature.
An ivory carpet is rolled between two sections of wooden chairs, each with a powder-blue bow tied to the back, and ahead is an archway into the garden where Izzy, Charlotte, and Brayden cast handfuls of rose petals into the air as they slowly make their way toward Will, Bryce, Derek, and Matt.
One by one, my bridesmaids follow as “Inevitable”, the Live Trepidation marriage song—played at both Alexis and Bryce’s and Carly and Derek’s weddings—sounds through the speakers.
My eyes lock on Will, and I draw in a deep breath, holding it for as long as I can. He stands at the end of the aisle, ruggedly handsome in his tuxedo, my missing glass slipper presented in the palms of his hands.
Choking back tears, I thank my lucky stars he pushed himself into my life. I don’t know how, but he knew me better than I knew myself and persisted when most wouldn’t. He knew we were a pair, and he knew he could give me my happily ever after. This day. This enchanted moment and beyond.
“Ready?” Dad asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
Hobbling down the aisle, I giggle with each awkward step, my cheeks burning and no doubt redder than my hair. I want to kill my husband-to-be but kiss him endlessly at the same time. Not only has he thought to present me with my very own glass slipper, but he also got me an authentic dinglehopper for my birthday, which is also currently wedged into the back of my hair.
He thinks of everything I don’t and says everything I won’t.
My missing part, my entire heart.
I stop before him, and he lowers to one knee, lifts the hem of my dress, and secures the glass slipper to my foot. Our guests clap, and I let out a delighted sob, feeling very much the princess he promised I’d be.
“Perfect fit,” he says and stands up, his misty eyes alight with pride as he holds out his hand.
Dad lays mine on top of it and says, “Yes, you are both the perfect fit.” He kisses my cheek then claps Will on the back. “Look after her.”
“I will, sir. Every moment of every day.”
Will brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, and I know he’ll do exactly what he just said he’ll do. I know, because we’re connected, mind, body, and soul, and a connection like that isn’t easily broken.
It’s forever.
Eternal.
A fairy tale.
Because fairy tales are real. We just have to believe in them.
Extended Epilogue
“Will!” I yell. “Wake up. I think it’s time.”
I hear him groan from our bedroom, and given it’s nearly midnight, I don’t blame him.
“I’m coming,” he grumbles.
“It’s okay, Snow. Mummy’s here. You’re doing so good, girl.” I kneel by the whelping box and pat her head.
Will stumbles into our living room, stretching his gigantic frame as he yawns. “She punch ’em out yet?”
I glare at him. “I’ll punch you out in a minute.”
He chuckles and combs his