“What exactly were you waiting for?” I feel myself getting worked up over the fact that it took me nearly marrying another man for him to realize he still wanted me. At the same time I feel guilty for my indignation, because he is here and he’s saving my ass.

He shushes me, smothering a laugh at my inability to ever pull off a proper whisper. “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “The right moment?”

“Shitty timing, Livingston,” I snap, the words leaving my mouth right after the music comes to an end.

I mean, of course I did, right? Because the rest of this day hasn’t been humiliating enough.

Pastor John stares and loudly clears his throat before motioning us to rejoin him.

The old man quirks a brow then murmurs, “Is the plan still to say your own vows?”

“Uhhh,” I stammer, knowing the vows I agonized over for the past week for Trent will no longer cut it.

“Just wing it,” Lyle encourages, clearly having no qualms about being put on the spot like this.

“Yeah,” I stammer, bile climbing in my throat. “Sure.”

“All right then,” Pastor John says with a smile. “Mr. Livingston, you’re up first.”

He rolls his shoulders before taking my hand into his. Ever the entertainer, Lyle cracks a huge smile, gazing out at the crowd. “Good thing I thought to dress my best for the occasion, huh?”

“And with a ring in your pocket no less,” I chime in, playing to our audience, as heat blooms in my cheeks.

My groom pats his chest and back pockets theatrically like he’s misplaced something. “Yet despite that bold move, I lacked the confidence to come prepared with vows.”

“If you’re lacking anything,” our pastor drawls, “it’s certainly not confidence.”

The church erupts with laughter.

“Touché.” Lyle chuckles before straightening his spine and cradling my hand in both of his.

“Li’l Bit,” he says, stroking his thumb over my knuckles. “I came here today prepared to let go. Then I found myself pacing outside your bridal suite, unsure what I was there for, but physically unable to peel myself away.” He blows out a breath. “I knew I was too late. I couldn’t just barge in there and stop this wedding like we’re in the movies. This is real life, and through no one’s fault but my own, I’d missed my chance.” He smiles. “But just as I was mustering the strength to walk away, lightning struck, and I was given a second chance—one I’m not quite sure I deserve but that I’m eternally grateful for nonetheless.”

He grips my chin in his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face up so I’m singularly focused on what he’s about to say.

“Sammi Deluca, I promise to love you.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “It feels silly to have to vow to do something that comes as natural as breathing.”