Drea. I’m just—”
“You, Lia. You’re just you. You are a loyal friend. You listen. You support. You gave me a home. You gave Reid a garage. You know what people need and you unselfishly give that to people. Who gives a shit if you can make a pot roast? Reid can. Who gives a shit if you outsource your cleaning and laundry? You can afford it. But being there for the person you love… being able to listen to them and share their dreams and burdens and the trivial parts of the day… supporting them in what they want to do and where they need to live,” Pixie took a deep breath, “that’s what will make you a good wife, Lia. Nothing else.”
A shimmer of tears flittered in Lia’s eyes.
“Oh, god. No, nope. No,” Pixie shouted. “You can’t cry. Don’t even think about it or I’ll be forced to remind you of the time Cujo let you wax his chest for a dare.”
The tension burst in the room as if she’d stuck a pin in a balloon. They both dissolved into laughter.
“Thank you,” Lia said, reaching for her hand. Pixie’s words had bulldozed through the worries she had, through the faint whisper of insecurities left over from her childhood that she wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t smart enough, that her career wasn’t enough, that who she was as an adult wasn’t enough.
“You’re welcome. It’s not like you to be uncertain. You had me worried.”
“I know. It’s not like me. For a moment, I had a brief understanding of what normal mortals felt every day.” Lia shivered. “Lacking confidence on a daily basis must be exhausting. And I’m pretty sure Reid would stay with me for the rest of our lives for the sex and my lingerie collection alone.”
“Well, speaking of lingerie, seeing we are due at the church in an hour, I think it’s time to put this on,” Pixie said, holding up her dress.
Exactly one hour later, Lia pulled up outside the church. She’d chosen to travel alone and be on time. Most brides were given away by their father, but seeing hers was in prison, that wasn’t going to happen. She hadn’t spoken to him in years. Her brother was on active duty overseas. And the idea of being given away as if she was someone else’s property rankled her. So, she’d traveled to the wedding alone and would walk herself down the aisle so she could join Reid at the altar. And joining him felt like a much better way of describing it than being given to him.
With a deep, grounding breath, she stepped out of the limo. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of what happened next.
“Auntie Lia, Auntie Lia. We both have buttons on our dress,” Petal said, running up to her. “We are matching.” She twirled around over and over. Her excitement was contagious.
“Yes, we are. Are you ready to do your very important job?”
Petal’s face switched from joy to solemn. “I am. Timing is very important, and Daddy says I am good at timing.”
“Very good. And what else are we going to do?”
Petal pulled her shoulders back. “I’m going to walk like a young lady and not be silly like a baby.”
“And?”
Petal’s brow crumpled in thought. “Oh, be my super-special self and smile.”
“Well done.”
Trent and Cujo walked down the stairs to meet her. Cujo pulled out his wallet and removed some cash before handing it to Trent. “He said it would be red. I guessed black.”
Lia laughed. “How do I look?” she asked. She wasn’t fishing for compliments. It just suddenly mattered that the two men she loved above everyone bar Reid approved.
Trent kissed her cheek. “Glorious, as always.”
Once upon a time, she’d thought Trent was the man for her, but as she glanced towards the open doors of the church, she knew the man inside waiting for her was the one she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.
“Better than I expected, to be honest,” Cujo said.
Lia laughed and slapped his arm. “You are such a dick.”
“Ready to do this?” Trent asked, offering her his elbow.
Willingly, she took it. The combination of the spectacular red Jimmy Choo’s covered in crystals, the huge layers of underskirt to the dress, and the stone steps up to the entrance was a recipe for disaster.
Once at the top, Lia let Harper take over. The details would be what they would be, at this point. It was too late to change a