Page 52 of Raced (Driven 3.50)
The music starts. Some classical shit that I’m sure I’ll never remember but at the same time will know every time I hear it what it means. Where I was. What she looked like.
Tanner and Quinlan walk down. Then Becks and Haddie. I don’t even see them. I’m rocking on my heels. Clasping my hands in front of me. Telling myself to breathe.
Fuck. I’m really doing this. Really want to do this.
The wedding march starts. At least I know this song. Kind of hard to miss.
But when the music starts, I feel like the bottom drops out.
All of my insecurities, fears, worries begin to overtake me. I strain to find Rylee around the curve of the guests. I want to yell at them to sit the hell down so I can see her because I’m fucking suffocating and she’s my air. My next breath.
My fucking everything.
And then life zooms in 3D fashion when I catch the first glimpse of her.
The blur around me stops.
All I see is white. Can’t tell you a goddamn thing about the dress except for the color because all I’m focused on is her face.
Look up.
Look at me, Ryles.
I want to shout the words to her. Let her know I’m here, waiting. But then realize she can take all the time in the fucking world because I’m not going anywhere.
Yep. This man who loved to run is firmly rooted in place. Fuckin’A.
I can’t hear my mom sobbing, can’t feel the breeze of the ocean, can’t hear the music anymore because Rylee looks up.
And I’m lost. Staggered. Found. Saved.
To her. To the moment. For the rest of my life.
My saint. The words run through my head as I lock eyes with her. Every demon left within leaves with the exhale of my breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Her smile is unwavering and eyes fill with tears as she walks so calmly toward me. And thank fuck for that. Thank God she never listened when I warned her off of me. Because it may have been
a great view of her ass walking away, but that means I’d never have the chance to see this—accept this—know this feeling. The one that she’s walking toward me, no secrets hidden, all slates wiped clean, and a future to build together.
I’m a lucky fucking bastard.
I breathe in, my chest aching, and when the oxygen hits my lungs I’m able to think a little clearer. My eyes obey the command to take in the whole package, take a chance to remember this one moment for the rest of my life.
And then I see it.
I laugh out loud—can’t help myself—when I see the checkered flag wrapped around her waist. Only Rylee would do this for me. Add something as an ode to the significance of our checkered past and of her being my checkered flag.
I can’t keep my eyes off of her. She’s everything right now. Fucking everything.
I shake her dad’s hand and vaguely hear his kind words because all I see is her.
“Nice checkered flag,” I tell her with a laugh when all I want to do is kiss her. I feel like it’s been weeks since we have, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours. Pathetic but true as fuck.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t know which one I was,” she says, referring to her text as I take her hands in mine.
And now I feel like I can breathe again, feel like myself again because Rylee’s right where she belongs. “Baby, I’d know where you are even if I were blind.”
I smile at her, see so many things in those eyes of hers that I don’t even realize the officiate has begun. And fuck if the nerves aren’t beginning to hum now.
