My stomach does a slow, traitorous flip as I finally step into the hallway.
When I round the corner, there’s a shift in the air. Tiana’s already got tears in her eyes, clutching her phone, while Griffin lets out a low whistle.
“Wow, Jones,” he says, shaking his head with an impressed grin.
My sister lifts her phone to record. “Do a little twirl, I need this for posterity.”
Griffin groans. “She’s not a debutante, Tiana.”
But I can’t help laughing, spinning just enough for the dress to flare around my legs.
And when I steady myself again, my eyes finally find Worth.
He hasn’t said a word, though the look on his face says everything. It makes my breath catch.
He swallows hard, throat flexing, then takes a few slow, hesitant steps toward me. I’m aware of Tiana sniffling somewhere off to the side, Griffin muttering something I can’t make out, but all I can see ishim.
When Worth stops in front of me, his fingers find mine. He leans in close, his breath brushing my ear, voice a low rasp.
“You look devastatingly beautiful, Kitten. Like every dream I didn’t know I had.”
The words steal the air from my lungs. Worth Miller doesn’t say things like that.
I can’t find anything to say back. All I can do is look at him—really look—and I realize that for once, there’s no mask.
He lifts my hand to press a kiss to my knuckles. His mouth lingers there a second too long, as if memorizing the feel of my skin. My cheeks burn, and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at my lips. For the first time today, I forget that any of this is supposed to be pretend.
Finally on our way, I watch the city from the window, silently. To me, the world feels suspended, like it knows what’s about to happen.
When we stop, I blink up at the small chapel tucked at the corner of a cobblestone square. It’s nothing extravagant—old limestone walls, ivy curling up its sides, and a single bell tower rising above it. The heavy wooden doors creak as Griffin pushesthem open, revealing rows of worn pews and sunlight spilling through stained glass in shades of gold and rose.
It’s quiet inside. Sacred, in a way that makes my skin prickle.
Worth offers me a hand to help me step over the threshold. I take it, but I let go the second we’re inside.
The officiant, a small man with kind eyes and a French accent, waits near the front. “Monsieur Miller, Mademoiselle Jones. Everything is ready.”
Tiana squeezes my hand before taking her place beside Griffin, who looks far too grumpy for a best man. Worth stands beside me, tall and composed in his black suit.
I shouldn’t stare, but I do.
It’s not just how handsome he looks. It’s how he makes mefeel.
Safe. Seen. Alive in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying.
And it hits me all at once how unfair this is. Because if things had been different, if this wasn’t all for show, maybe we could’ve made it here for real. Maybe I wouldn’t be standing beside himpretending.
The thought aches, like something pulled too tight in my chest, and I force my gaze back to the officiant before it can swallow me whole.
The words wash over me, blurring together, muffled beneath the rapid beats of my heart. My dress feels too heavy, my pulse too loud.
When the officiant turns to Worth and says, “Do you, Worth Miller, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Worth’s answer is immediate. “I do.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.
“And do you, Mya Jones, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
There’s a heartbeat of silence. Then I lift my chin, steadying my voice. “I do.”