get married. But I know that just isn’t true. I’ve loved Stevie my whole life, and she’s the sweetest girl I’ve ever known.
Everything about her is absolute perfection.
I love her.
I’ve loved her since she was five years old and I never stopped. She’s the only girl I’ve ever even noticed, the only one who has ever existed for me. My first kiss, my first everything. I’ve never wanted to even touch another woman. Just her, and soon she’s going to be my wife.
Mine.
She doesn’t know it yet, but my daddy gave me the one-bedroom ranch hand house at the back of the property. It’s been empty for about five years, but I’ve been working nights and waking up early every morning to fix it up for us.
It isn’t much, but it’s just enough for us.
I stripped the whole fucking place, put in new carpet and linoleum, replaced the sinks and hardware. I even painted the whole inside of the place light yellow, because that’s my girl’s favorite color. The outside is all Texas limestone with wooden shutters, the limestone was still in good shape, but I had to make new shutters and stain them.
One bedroom, one bathroom, a small dining room and a smaller living space with a coffee table is about all we’ll have. I also spent my weekends making some of the furniture myself.
A small wooden table, a coffee table, a headboard, and a nightstand. I found a dresser secondhand and stripped and painted it white.
The mattress, sofa, and dining chairs we’ll have to figure out, but I guess that we’ll be getting some money from the wedding, so maybe we can grab some of those things secondhand?
Stevie already told me she got tons of kitchen shit at her bridal shower. She laughed about it at the time, because she doesn’t know that we have a place to live. We’re pretty much going to be set in our new life, in the small ranch hand house, and I can’t wait. It won’t be much, but it’s more than some people have and we can only go up from here.
“You ready?” a voice asks.
Turning my head, I look back to see my dad standing at the door. We’re in my bedroom, the wedding is here at the ranch, a simple day with friends and family. A barbeque, sides, and cake. It’s perfect and simple.
“More than ready,” I say.
Beau and Wyatt both pull me back after my dad walks away. Turning to them, I frown. “What’s up?”
“This is crazy. But we just wanted to say we’re really fuckin’ happy for you,” Beau says with a grin.
Jerking my chin, I smile. “Thanks, y’all. You’ll be next, just wait and see.”
They both snort, shaking their heads. “Not anytime soon,” Wyatt mutters.
His eyes are dark and I instantly regret my words, remembering how things with him and Sammie have been, how he thought they were getting married too, and have a family. I open my mouth to apologize, but Wyatt just lifts his hand, grabbing onto my shoulder with a squeeze.
“This is your day, Ford. I’m happy for you,” he murmurs.
“Let’s get you married, that way I can check out those bridesmaids.” Beau chuckles, giving us a wink, effectively changing the topic and lightening the mood.
A few minutes later, I’m standing next to the pastor, a man I’ve known my whole life. My best friends are at my side, my gaze drifting over my entire family and Stevie’s. This is it. This is the beginning of everything.
The wedding march starts and I see her walking on the arm of her dad. She’s dressed in white, a dress that is all lace and hits her right below her knees. She looks perfect, better than she did at prom a month ago.
I smile as her eyes catch mine. She stumbles, then she stops. I move to go toward her, thinking that she’s stuck or twisted her ankle when her eyes widen. Her hand drops from her father’s and she turns around.
“Stevie?” I call out.
Before I can even take one step, she has her shoes kicked off and she’s running. I hear people around me gasping, my mama wails and my daddy reaches out, wrapping his hand around my shoulder, squeezing so that I can’t run after her.
“Let her go, son,” he rumbles.
Turning my head to look at him, my eyes well up with tears. “Dad?” I ask.
He shakes his head once. “Y’all are young,” he murmurs. “Maybe she just ain’t ready. Tomorrow things’ll look different.