I smile and pick up my makeup bag from the dresser, but he ends up holding one of my hands so it’s sort of like he’s helping me, only it makes the actual act of putting makeup on a bit complicated. But I manage and I end up getting the black eyeliner and lip gloss on without any mishaps. When I’m done, I sit on my bed and Micha kneels down in front of me and helps me put on my boots.

“I feel like Cinderella,” I remark as I put my foot in and he laces the boot up.

He peers up at me and a smile touches his lips. “Good. That’s how you should feel.” He stands up and then guides me to my feet before he leans in to kiss me. Then he walks over to the nightstand and picks up the wooden box he gave me last night. He opens it up, takes out the necklace, and, stepping behind me, puts it on me. As soon as the ribbon and rose are secured around my neck, I feel weirdly at peace.

He kisses the back of my neck and then walks around in front of me. “Are you ready for this?” His tone’s light but I can tell he’s worried about my response.

“I’m more than ready,” I tell him and then grab the front of his shirt and pull him in for another kiss. When I pull away, I give him a questioning look. “Wait a minute… did you smoke?”

He scratches the back of his neck, looking guilty. “Sort of, but only because I was a little nervous.”

“About what?”

“About starting our future… taking care of you the right way. I just want to make you happy.”

“You have since the day we became friends,” I assure him and the anxious look in his eyes evaporates as I slip on my leather jacket and tuck the photo of my mom inside it because I want her with me, even if it is just a picture.

He gives me a funny look, but he doesn’t say anything and then we leave the room, holding hands, and head to our wedding together and everything feels right because he’s here by my side and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter 25

Micha

She looks beautiful in her dress, her hair all done up in braids and curls, her green eyes big as she stares at me, gripping onto my hands for dear life as we get out of the car. I try to stay calm but my hammering pulse makes it hard to breathe, not because I’m nervous but because I’m excited. I turn on “The Story,” by Brandi Carlile, so it’s quietly playing through the speakers and Ella smiles, remembering how it was playing at Dean and Caroline’s wedding when I told her that I wanted to marry her.