Till Death

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  of pain along my side. Cole moved with me. “You . . . you love me?”

  His eyes searched mine. “I loved you ten years ago, Sasha. I loved you the entire time you were gone. And I loved you since the moment I walked into the dining room and saw you standing there.”

  Oh my . . .

  The half grin appeared. “Or maybe you were going to tell me you wanted Japanese takeout and this is about to get really, really awkward.”

  “No.” A laugh bubbled up in me. “I was going to tell you that I love you.”

  “Was?”

  My lips curved up at the corners. “Am,” I corrected, scooting so that our faces were inches apart. “I love you, Cole. I’ve been in love with you since our first date.”

  His grin spread as he leaned in and when he spoke, his lips brushed mine. “I’m so glad this didn’t get awkward.”

  “Me too.” I paused. “But Japanese takeout does sound amazing.”

  Cole chuckled. “I do love you, Sasha. That’s something you never have to doubt.”

  Tilting my head just the slightest, I pressed my lips to his. The kiss was soft and perfect. “I won’t.”

  Carefully, he eased me back down onto my back and he shifted so he was on his side beside me. “I’ll call your favorite in—steak and shrimp, correct?” When I nodded, he slid the tips of his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of acute shivers in their wake. “But first I want to make sure you’re doing okay.”

  Cole had been doing that a lot this last week. Checking in, making sure I was processing everything. Truth was, this was a work in progress. Nightmares were going to linger longer than the aches. It would be some time before I didn’t expect an officer to walk through the inn doors, but knowing I still had all this goodness inside me, all the love around me . . .

  I had Miranda.

  I had my mother.

  I had Cole.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” I took a deep, cleansing breath. “It’s really over now.”

  Epilogue

  In the standing oval mirror that belonged to Grandma Libby, tears showed brightly in my mother’s eyes. She stood beside me, one hand clutching the front of her pale blue blouse and the other hovering over her mouth.

  “You look so incredibly beautiful, honey.” Her voice thickened. “I feared I would never see this day. It’s like a dream come true.”

  “Mom,” I whispered. A knot burned the back of my throat, a messy and amazing knot. “Don’t make me cry. I’ll ruin all of Miranda’s hard work.”

  “And that would make me very unhappy.” Miranda appeared at my left. She winked when her gaze met mine in the mirror. “You do look amazing.”

  Miranda was in a pale blue dress, a color that was absolutely stunning on her, and the Grecian style was beyond flattering. Her braided hair was pulled up in an elegant twist, just like my mother’s. I smiled at her, and fought the urge to apologize for the hundredth time, because there were still shadows in her eyes. I was getting better at not doing that, because deep down I knew what happened to her, to all of us, wasn’t my fault.

  It had been the Groom’s.

  It had always been Jason and his father’s fault. No one else’s, and eventually I knew I wouldn’t feel the need to apologize. One of these days, I supposed, but today wasn’t going to be a day I spent focusing on the past.

  “Today’s about the present,” I announced out loud.

  Neither woman was surprised by what I said, because they understood where my thoughts had gone. Mom folded an arm around my bare shoulders. “It’s about the present and future.”

  Exhaling slowly, I stared at my reflection. My dress wasn’t white. That was still never going to happen, but the gown I’d found was a beautiful champagne color, and moved like silk and water. It was a simple gown with a pearl-beaded heart-shaped bodice that gathered under the breast and then flowed out. Miranda had curled my hair earlier, parted the mass down the middle, pinned the sides back behind my ears, and let it fall in loose waves down my back. I wasn’t wearing any jewelry. No veil. The dress was a huge step. Everything else felt like too much.

  “You ready?” Miranda whispered.

  Finding it hard to speak, I nodded. She moved over to the table in Mom’s kitchen and picked up the bundle of champagne-colored roses. A pale blue ribbon dangled from the stems. Placing the wedding bouquet in my hands, she stretched up and kissed my cheek.

  “I am so happy for you,” Miranda whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “So freaking happy for you.”

  “Thank you,” I croaked out, fingers spasming along the cool stems.

  Miranda glanced over at my mom. “I’ll be downstairs.”

  When she left the room, Mom faced me. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “There is so much I want to say to you, but I know if I get started I’ll start bawling, and I’m saving my tears for the pillow.”

  I laughed. “You’ve been watching Dance Moms.”

  “Possibly.” Her inhale was shaky as she reached out, smoothing my hair at the temple. “But I want to tell you that I am so incredibly proud of you.”

  “Mom,” I whispered, feeling the wetness gather in my eyes.

  She clasped my shoulders. “My beautiful daughter . . .” Cupping my cheek, her smile wobbled. “It’s time.”

  We still had a few moments, but I knew if we lingered, both of us would end up sobbing uncontrollably, and I didn’t want to be a mess. We left the room and took the main staircase. The inn was closed for the weekend, so the hum of conversation I heard as we reached the top of the staircase was all from people we knew.

  Lit garlands twisted around the railing, twinkling, and the air smelled of crisp balsam and pear. It was the last weekend of November, and the entire inn was decorated for Christmas. From where we stood, I could see one of the four Christmas trees. This one wasn’t the largest, but was set to the right of the staircase and could be seen outside, through the glass panes in the doors.

  Gathering the skirt of my dress, I headed down the stairs, and stopped while Mom walked ahead. The conversation lulled as I focused on taking deep, even breaths. Nervous energy was bouncing all through my system, but it wasn’t fear. Oh no, it was eagerness and anticipation. It was a thousand different emotions but none of them bad or frightening.

  James appeared, and I smiled when I saw him. Never in my life had I seen him wearing anything other than an old shirt and jeans that had seen better days.

  His salt-and-pepper beard was trimmed, and the black trousers, white dress shirt, and pale blue tie seemed so out of place on him, like he was wearing another man’s clothes, but he cleaned up nicely.

  “You look so handsome,” I told him.

  He didn’t smile. Didn’t grin. That wasn’t him, but those dark, soulful eyes softened. “You ready, girl?”

  Twisting at the waist, I looked up the staircase, and I could almost see my father standing there, nodding at me, telling me I was ready. He would be proud of who I’d chosen to escort me, and I was ready. I nodded.

  “Then let’s get this show on the road,” James said gruffly.

  In a daze, I threaded my arm through his and we walked to our left. Folding white chairs had been brought in to accommodate the small ceremony, and the dining tables had been temporarily cleared out to make room for the garland-covered arbor. Those tables would be back out later, for the reception, but right now, the whole area was a winter wonderland with a touch of love.

  My gaze flickered over the people seated. I saw Cole’s parents and family. I recognized Tyron sitting near my mother. Miranda was waiting at the arbor, along with the pastor Mom had known for years, and Derek, who stood next to Cole.

  Air hitched in my throat when I saw him. Heart thumping like a steel drum, my knees felt weak as our gazes collided and held. I saw his lips part, could practically feel the unsteady inhale he took. Raw emotion crawled over his striking face, and those pale blue eyes that matched the dresses that Miranda and my mom wore, the same color as the ties secured loosel
y around James’ and Derek’s necks. The same color threaded through the roses I carried.

  Oh my God, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Felt that way all those years ago when I first saw him in class, and I still believed that, today more than ever, because he was about to become my husband.

  I was actually going to get married.

  Cole’s full, expressive lips curled into a smile, and there was no stopping my response. I felt my grin race across my face, and James had to pick up his pace to keep up with me.

  “Damn, girl,” James grumbled as we reached the arbor. “He ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

  “Truest words ever spoken,” Cole replied.

  The crowd laughed, and even though my cheeks flushed, I wasn’t embarrassed. I only had eyes for Cole. Miranda took the bouquet from my hands and stepped back while James shuffled over to one of the chairs. I only guessed that was what had happened, because I was 100 percent focused on Cole.

  He took my hands in his and said in a low voice, “It’s taken us a long time to get here.”

  A strangled, emotional laugh erupted from me as I squeezed his hands back. My heart beat fast. “Too long.”

  “But we’re here,” he said, tone rich and deep.

  And we were, after all this time, after everything that had happened. Despite the fact I’d sworn I’d never wear a wedding gown, never allow a ring put on my finger, Cole and I were here.

  What did Grandma Libby always say?

  Never say never.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my agent, Kevan Lyon, for always supporting me, no matter what random book idea I throw in her direction. This book would’ve never happened if it weren’t for my editor, Tessa Woodward, Elle Keck, Nicole Fischer, and the amazing publicity and marketing team at HarperCollins, including Caro Perry and KP Simmons. Thank you Stacey Morgan, Vilma Gonzalez, Jen Fisher, Andrea Joan, Tiffany King, Sarah J. Maas, Laura Kaye, and many others who helped support this book either through me bouncing ideas off of or them reading really terrible early drafts.

  None of this would be possible without you, the reader. Thank you for your continuous support, and I hope you enjoyed Till Death.