Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(83)
Becca raises her perfectly groomed eyebrows and says, “What have you been eating?”
Mel doesn’t even hesitate. “Everything.”
Sam, Vee, and I burst into laughter. It’s just the tension breaker I need. “She handles my mom so much better than I do,” I whisper to Sam and Vee.
When Becca turns her attention on us, Sam feigns a serious expression. Becca only shakes her head and resumes applying makeup to Sam’s shoulder tattoo. Becca was mortified when I announced my bridesmaids would wear beachy, strapless dresses…and go barefoot. But she’s been mortified with every decision I’ve made concerning the wedding—that’s just her. I’ve learned to accept most of her criticism for what she intends it to be: her way of showing her love.
Becca can put on the best of airs, but I glimpse the shimmer of tears in her eyes. She’s been waiting for this moment since I was a little girl, and finally, it’s here. I did allow her to pick the reception venue, and handle all the arrangements—but the ceremony is ours.
I hear the small string ensemble start up, and my hands slick with sweat. Just on the other side of the high sand dune is my fiancé—my husband to be. Very, very soon—and a large enough gathering of our friends and family to make my head start to spin.
“Breathe,” Sam says. “It’s just people. They’re only here for the food and alcohol.”
I smile. “Thank you.” She nods, then bats Becca away, making me laugh again.
After I was released from the hospital, I did follow up on doctor’s orders for aftercare treatment. And it was through Mel that I discovered an ideal therapist who did video sessions online; Sam’s therapist.
My father and Becca were interviewing local counselors like it was their profession, and all the attention (even though I understood it was their way of offering support) was adding to the anxiety. So when Mel suggested I speak with her friend Sam, I did, and I welcomed the idea of working with a professional from the comfort of my dorm room. And when Mel, Vee, and I took a trip to stay at my parents’ brownstone in NYC, I met Sam for the first time. These women have become an extension of my family.
To think, I used to feel like I had no one. Now, I’m surrounded by my friends and my family, and I’m marrying the most amazing man. A girl could die of happiness.
“I just got the text,” Vee announces. “She’s here. The ceremony is about to start.” She glances over at me, green eyes bright. “Ready?”
Shoring up my courage, I nod. “Absolutely.” And I mean it. Nothing could keep me from him.
Becca gives the train of my dress a fluff and stretches it out behind me as I move forward to meet my father. He offers me the crook of his arm. “You’re the most beautiful bride, Ari,” he says, and I blink hard at the moisture gathering in my eyes.
I sneak a peak behind me once to see my bridesmaids lined up with their escorts. Mel and Jake. Sam and Coach Carson. Vee and Gavin. Offering a sympathetic smile to Vee, I mouth, “Thank you.”
She rolls her eyes, but gives me a genuine smile.
Then we’re off. The rising music guiding my steps.
As we approach the ceremony—torches blazing, the light-filled canopy twinkling, chairs filled with bodies on either side, heads all turned my way—a small niggle of doubt worms its way into my head. Maybe I should have jumped at the offer to elope.
We stayed engaged for years…me always making excuses in order to postpone the actual wedding. There was never any reservation about marrying him—just this part of it. The crowd. Attention. Stress.
I’ve been able to overcome much of my illness, but the threat always harbors just beneath. A current of awareness, inviting me to purge my anxiety away, or skip a meal to feel in control over a social situation. I understand my disorder better after working with Dr. Hartman, but even she admits it’s ever-changing; more being discovered about the link between anxiety and eating disorders all the time.
I suddenly regret not taking Becca up on her offer to get my prescription refilled. The one I was so sure I no longer needed.
My feet sink into the loose sand, then I watch as I step onto the satiny white runway. My grip on my father’s arm tightens, and he cups my hand encouragingly as we move alongside the crowd. My heart knocks painfully against my breastbone, my pulse beating in my ears.
Only, when I force my gaze up to look ahead, and my eyes connect with Ryder’s—those clear blues that still ramp my heart, that still offer me comfort—the ceremony and the people filling it fall away. It’s only us.
He’s my anchor.
And it’s always been him. I finally have my chance to prove that to him.
I hold his loving gaze, allowing his faith to draw me in, and I walk with purpose and confidence toward him.
My father kisses my cheek before he pats Ryder once on the shoulder and leaves to take his seat beside Becca.
Standing before Ryder, looking up into his beautiful face as he gazes at me adoringly, every obstacle we faced to be here right now washes away, like it’s being swept out to sea by the shore behind us. He’s gorgeous in his black tux, his strong, muscular chest and arms filling it out just as sexy as he fills out his uniform. If you would’ve told me I was destined to marry a super bowl star years ago, I would’ve laughed. The idea so foreign from what I just knew my life was fated to be.
But oh, he’s so much more than a football god—though yes, he’s absolutely one. Ryder Nash is the reason I’m thriving, the reason I’ve recently been promoted to an editor at the publishing company where I started interning during college. I never even knew I could dream of another future, never mind have one, until him.