When Stars Collide (Second Chance Romance #2) - Sara Furlong-Burr Page 0,135

polar opposite of the Peter Monroe I’d come to know and love, yet it really suited him. And I think he felt it, too. His posture had improved, and he carried himself with more confidence than I’d seen in him in a long time.

“Is everything okay?” I asked after several seconds had gone by and he still hadn’t said a word.

“Wha— Oh, yeah. Yeah, everything is fine.”

That was when I noticed the envelope in his hand and my heart skipped a beat. Was it for me? I hoped it was, but that thought was quashed almost as soon as it entered my mind.

“It’s for Elle.” He handed the envelope to me.

“Of course … for Elle.”

“I need to get back. Luke is pacing around, sweating like a man three times his size. He’s pretty nervous.”

“Luke? Nervous?”

“I know. You would think the man was getting married or something.” A small smile lit up his face, making his blue eyes sparkle even more than usual. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle?”

I nodded. “I’ll be there. Unless Elle decides to steal a convertible, pick up Brad Pitt, and haul ass across the country.”

He stared at me, confused. “I’m going to do us all a favor and not mention that to Luke.”

“Probably a good idea,” I agreed. “See you soon.”

I closed the door, resisting the urge to repeatedly bang my forehead against it as it latched shut. Why I hadn’t used this opportunity to jump into his arms, I didn’t know. All I knew for certain was that my flight back to New York left tomorrow morning, and I wanted to tell Peter everything in person—I just didn’t know what everything was yet.

“Who was that?” Elle asked when I walked behind the screen.

“It was only Pet … er … Oh my!”

“What?” Elle looked herself up and down in the mirror. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

“Absolutely not. You look gorgeous.”

“Doesn’t she, though?” Kirsten clasped her hands together, admiring her handiwork.

I gaped at the vision standing before me in the dress I helped her choose, with her hair hanging down in waves just past her shoulders and her veil secured with bobby pins. She was a vision, a true princess. And her love story with Luke had been nothing short of a modern-day fairy tale.

“Mena, are you going to cry?” she asked.

“No … Maybe … Here.” I handed her the note from Luke.

Perplexed, Elle took the envelope and opened it, pulling out a letter I presumed was from Luke. She couldn’t have been more than a paragraph into it before her eyes began to well with tears.

“No crying!” Violet scolded Elle. “You’ll smear your makeup.”

“Yes, how dare you show any emotion on your wedding day.” I stood on my tiptoes to get a better view of the letter just as Elle finished it and promptly folded it up and stuck it back inside of the envelope. Heeding Violet’s advice, she grabbed a tissue and blotted her eyes. “If he’s already making you cry in a letter, just imagine what his vows are going to do to you. Hopefully, you brought your ‘A’ game for yours.”

All the color drained from Elle’s face and she looked like she was going to be sick.

“Or we could always drive a car off a cliff in the Grand Canyon.”

“Elle.” Alex came into the room, peeking behind the screen. “It’s time.”

*****

I didn’t know why I was so nervous; it’s not like I was the one getting married. Be that as it may, here I was, my stomach turning, my knees threatening to buckle at any given moment.

Because he’s waiting for you at the end of that aisle.

Yes, brain, I know, but he’s not waiting for me. Wait. Is he waiting for me? After the last couple of days, he probably believes our ship has sailed. How am I going to tell him? What am I going to do? There’s so much to say, so many decisions to make, and they all needed to be made soon.

Of course. That’s it.

It hit me then that this was just as much the beginning of my life as it was Luke and Elle’s. Except there was far more uncertainty when it came to Peter and me. Uncertainty was something I aimed to avoid at all costs. The unknown intimidated me, and now it was all that was laid out in front of me. Surely, this was the walk of anxiety.

Kirsten began her journey down the path leading to the aisle. After a