Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (46 page)

It’s a perfect evening. The sun is low, and colors of burnt orange, red, yellow, and fuchsia paint the marbled sky. If all goes as planned—and with Olivia, it always does—she and I will exchange our vows just as the sun dips beyond the horizon and she will officially be mine.
Mine
.

Who would have thought it?

Nearly two years after asking Olivia to marry me, here we are. I’m still having a hard time believing I get to marry this woman.

Olivia’s parents’ yard is beautifully manicured, decorated in pale pinks, creams, and muted browns. White chairs and a floral-covered arbor welcome fifty of our closest family and friends who have been invited to share in this special evening—our wedding. I think at least twenty-five percent of the guests are taking bets if Owen “I’m Never Getting Married” Maxwell will go through with it. I hope they all lose big, because I’m doing this. I am all in.

As I stand at the front of the yard with the Justice of the Peace and await my bride, I think back on the feelings I had at Travis and Lucy’s wedding three years ago and later Simon and Reese’s wedding—about how it would feel to be waiting for my future wife. It’s
much
worse than I imagined. I can barely contain myself—I’m so excited. Nervous? Yes. Feelings of regret? Absolutely not.

After I blurted out my proposal to Olivia at the hospital following Drew’s birth, the blinders I had on vanished. Any doubts were extinguished. I knew that proposing right then and there might have not been the most romantic moment time to ask for Olivia’s hand, but it was the exact moment I knew that there was not a single day of my life where I didn’t want Olivia in it. I’ve never looked back. Never had a second thought—and when that happens, you know you’ve made the right decision.

Just so you know, I had a do-over with the proposal. After Drew’s first birthday party and all our guests had left our apartment, all the presents were put away, and the last of the chocolate cake was scraped off the walls, Olivia finally put Drew down for the night and we had a moment alone. With the twinkling fairy lights on the patio and the sun very much how it is tonight, I got down on one knee and bared my soul to Olivia. With tears in my eyes and Olivia already in a full-on ugly cry, I asked her sincerely, reverently, and lovingly if she would marry me. Again. Only this time, I had jewelry to sweeten the deal—a champagne, cushion-cut diamond ring. Luckily for me, she said yes. Again.

Flash forward ten months later and here we are.

Standing at the end of the aisle with the eyes of our guests on me, I shift nervously on my feet, anxious to see Olivia. I look toward the house and catch Travis’s eye. He and the rest of my groomsmen are waiting to escort the bridesmaids down the aisle by the house. He chuckles to himself and shakes his head. He knows exactly how I’m feeling and he’s getting a big laugh out of it.

Next in the row of groomsmen is Marcus, who slowly draws a line across his neck, indicating that my life will soon be over. I let out an audible laugh, unable to contain myself. I waggle my finger at him and continue to smile. My friends know that keeping my head light is what I need to ease my nerves.

The music changes and the harpist, cellist, and violinists begin to play the prelude for the wedding party to enter. My heart rate jumps tenfold.

This is it. This. Is. Fucking. It.

With little time to think more about it, the sheer drapes covering the doors to the house swoop open and out steps Emily with my little man. My heart swells at seeing my son dressed in a tux that mirrors mine. Drew walks out from behind the drapes with confidence, holding Emily’s hand. That confidence quickly evaporates when he sees the crowd of people looking at him. Drew is all about being the center of attention, but this is a little much—even for him.
I know just how you’re feeling, buddy.

Drew freezes mid stride, surveys the crowd, and then instinctively wraps his little arms around Emily’s lower legs. You can hear a few coos and giggles from the crowd as he presses his face to Emily’s knees. With some coaxing, she manages to get him down the stairs of the deck and they begin the walk down the aisle. Once Drew sees me, he smiles, drops Emily’s hand, and takes off in a wobbly run down the aisle. I crouch down and extend my arms to my son as he dodges flashing cameras and curious guests trying to get a better view.

Drew crashes into my chest with a thud. I smile wide and lift him up into my arms, kissing his forehead. As I prop him on my hip, he looks over the crowd and shyly buries his head into the crook of my neck. I nuzzle into him and do my best to distract him, pointing out Auntie Emily, who is walking down the aisle, and Grandma Maxwell and Nana Burke. He smiles apprehensively and gives them a small wave while trying to brush his hair up and away from his face.

“You look good, little man. You ready for the party?” I ask Drew in a hushed whisper.

“Mommy says I look hanthum,” he replies with a full voice.

“You do look very handsome, son. Did you catch a look at your mom?”

He nods. “She’s preddy, Daddy. Auntie Reese said you would attack Mommy when you saw her. Be nice to Mommy, okay?” he says, lovingly patting my face with his little hand.

I stifle a chuckle. “Oh, I’ll be very,
very
nice to Mommy. Don’t you worry.” I give him a kiss on the top of his head and put him down to stand beside me.

I take hold of his small hand as, together, we watch the groomsmen walk the bridesmaids down the aisle. After everyone has taken their predetermined spot, the music changes again and all the guests stand to face the house. Ready or not, here she comes.

My heart is beating so fast that I can feel it in my temples, and it crosses my mind that I may very well pass out. I start to breathe deeply. In through my nose. Out through the mouth. In and out. Slow and steady. My nerves are shot to hell. I know without a doubt that marrying Olivia is the right thing to do, but that doesn’t stop me from being so freaking nervous. I mean, my legs are sweating for crying out loud. My
legs
.

I swipe a bead of sweat that starts to trickle down the side of my face and smile nervously at my mom. She smiles sweetly, reassuring me the way only a mother can. Travis, standing behind me, squeezes my shoulder, showing me his support. I swivel around, give him a smile, and nod my head. I’m okay. I’m great, actually. I just want to see Olivia.

I roll my shoulders and look up at the sky while taking a final deep, calming breath. As I exhale, the curtains sweep open and there she is. All the air leaves my lungs as my eyes start to sting with tears. My throat constricts and I inhale sharply, amazed by Olivia’s beauty. I can feel my chin start to quiver as I am completely overcome with emotion.

My steepled hands cover my mouth as I whisper, “Oh my God…”

Olivia takes my breath away. She is so stunningly beautiful.

When her eyes meet mine, I can see that she’s started to cry too. She begins her last walk as a single woman toward me. She is every dream I’ve ever had, and she’s more than I deserve.

Suddenly, I no longer hear the music. The crowd is gone. Olivia’s father fades away and I zero in on Olivia. She’s all I ever see. In return, there is only pure love radiating back from her.

I can barely see where I’m going through the tears.
Thank God for waterproof makeup,
I think absently.

If you had asked if Owen could ever look more handsome, I would have told you that it’s impossible. Until now. Owen Maxwell in a tux would bring any woman to her knees. Owen Maxwell
crying
in a tux while you walk down the aisle to become his wife? I literally can’t breathe. He is beaming at me, his hands clenched together in front of him. I can see him fidgeting on his feet, like it’s taking all of his strength not to come to me. I understand this because it’s taking everything in me not to bolt down the aisle and throw myself into his arms.

We finally get to the end of the aisle, my father patting my hand.

“Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage today?”

“I do,” my father says. He turns to me and lifts my veil. “I love you sweet girl—so much. You are a beautiful bride and a phenomenal mother. Take good care of them.” He kisses me on the cheek, which is wet from a new set of tears falling, and gently replaces my veil.

Owen steps toward me and takes my father’s hand.

“Take good care of my girl, Owen.”

It’s hard to believe, but in an effort to do the whole proposal thing right, Owen actually asked my father for my hand in marriage. My dad was really touched—as was I.

“It’s my life’s mission, sir. Thank you.”

They shake hands, and my father unexpectedly pulls Owen in for a hug. I hear my mother sob from our side of the seats.

Then Owen turns to me and slides his arm through mine. Before we move, he looks down at me, his eyes swimming in tears, his smile brighter than any I’ve seen before.

“Hi,” he says simply.

“Hi to you,” I reply, too choked up for more.

He leans in to whisper into my ear as the guests take a seat, “You’re the most beautiful I’ve ever seen you, Olivia Burke soon-to-be-Maxwell.”

I smile shyly and sneak a peek at the Justice of the Peace, who is oblivious to our sidebar conversation.

“I am so in love with you, baby. Marry me,” Owen continues.

I wipe away another stray tear, bite my lower lip, and nod. It’s all I can manage for fear of turning into a blubbering mess.

We walk up to the Justice of the Peace as he starts the ceremony. At some point, Owen takes his arm from mine and joins our hands. As the Justice goes through his initial comments—“Two people in love…” and “Joined in this union…”—Owen’s hand squeezes mine tighter and tighter. I look up at him. He is staring straight ahead, but even through my veil, I can see the lone tear sliding down his cheek. I squeeze his hand back and he relaxes a bit.

“Now, for the vows,” the Justice announces.

Owen and I turn toward each other, grasping each other’s hands. His feet are doing their little nervous dance, and I can’t help but giggle. I know this part is going to destroy him. The combination of nerves and emotions are overwhelming to him and part of why I offered to have a smaller-scale wedding. This is way, way out of Owen’s comfort zone.

“Olivia and Owen have chosen to write their own vows. Olivia, are you ready to recite yours?”

I nod and take a deep breath, finding Owen’s eyes.

“Owen. There was a time in my life where I wasn’t sure I would ever be happy. When I was certain that love would never find me. But you did. In the most unexpected place, in the most unexpected way. I felt you before you walked into that bar the night I met you. I don’t know how. I don’t care how. But I know I did. And from that moment forward, I knew one thing that I carried with me until you were mine. I knew you had saved me. Just the ease with which I could talk to you, from that first moment in the bar, I knew I was going to move in the right direction if I could do it with you. By the time that trip was over, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to live without you. I thank God every day that you felt the same way. It didn’t come easily to us, the healing of our hearts. But how lucky, how unbelievably lucky, are we that we got to do that together?

“And now… Oh look at us now, baby. I have never loved anyone in the way I love you. You own my heart, my soul, my body. And I will spend every moment of my life, awake or dreaming, giving you that love in every way I know how. Today, we’re here, surrounded by our family. Surrounded by our friends, who have become our family. And joined by that little angel, the evidence of how much we love each other. That little soul that is part me, part you. If you are half as amazing a husband as you are a father, I will be the happiest woman alive for the rest of my life.

“We are already a family. A piece of paper will never change that. But I will now have the same last name as the two most important men in my world. There is nothing sweeter than that. So with that, I promise you my love every day. I promise to share my happiness with you and to offer you mine when you need it. I will be your strength, and I will allow you to be mine. I love you, Owen, and I am honored to become your wife.”

Owen blinks rapidly, trying to fight back the tears that fill his eyes. He grips my hands tight and mouths, “I love you so much.”

“Owen, are you prepared to speak your vows to Olivia?” the Justice asks.

Owen nods, shuffles his feet nervously, and begins.

“Olivia, the way in which we met was unconventional at best, but don’t most great moments start out how you least expect them? When I saw you sitting alone in the airport bar, nursing a glass of white wine, I knew I had to meet you. I was inexplicably drawn to you. I said later that night on our flight out to Seattle that fate was at work and you brushed me off, saying that psychologists don’t believe in fate. I think you’d now agree that fate had a hand in bringing us together, and I am forever grateful that it did because it led me to you. You found me when I was struggling. You threw me a lifeline I didn’t know I needed. You are my life support, Olivia. I need you to breathe, to function. Without you, I am nothing. With you, I thrive.