Page 38 of Oliver (The Golden Team #7)

Emery

Wedding Day

I didn’t cry when I won my first gold medal.

I didn’t cry when I retired or when I disappeared or even when I came home.

But when I saw Oliver—standing under that archway draped in wildflowers and sunlight, wearing a dark suit that somehow made his eyes look even deeper—I lost it.

“Don’t smudge the eyeliner,” Beatrice warned, dabbing under my eyes like a big sister with a death grip on waterproof mascara.

Olly peeked around the dressing room curtain wearing suspenders and a lopsided bowtie. “Is it time yet? I practiced my line.”

“What line?” I asked.

He puffed up. “The part where I say, ‘My dad picked a good one.”

Beatrice burst out laughing. “Let him say it. That’s gold.”

The ceremony started late—because Olly tried to wrangle a chicken into a flower basket, and the ring bearer tripped over a vine. But when the music started and I stepped out barefoot across the grass, on my Dad’s arm, everything went quiet.

Oliver smiled like he’d waited his whole life for this moment. My Dad kissed my cheek and handed me to Oliver.

“You look like the sun,” he whispered when I reached him.

“You look like home,” I whispered back.

The officiant started talking, but I barely heard him. My eyes were locked on Oliver’s, and my hands were shaking in his.

When it was time for vows, he went first.

“I never believed in fate,” he said, voice rough. “But then you crashed into my life like a storm I never saw coming. You’ve challenged me, healed me, and made me more of a man than I ever thought I could be. I vow to protect your heart like it’s my own—and love you with everything I am.”

Tears blurred my vision.

I tried to speak, failed, and then laughed softly. “I don’t have anything poetic. Just... thank you. For finding me when I didn’t know I was lost. For staying when you didn’t have to. For being the man who gave me a reason to dream again. I love you. I choose you. Every time.”

“ You may now kiss the bride. ”

He didn’t wait.

His hands framed my face, and his lips crashed into mine with a mix of hunger and reverence that sent the crowd cheering. Olly whooped. Someone set off fireworks—probably Beatrice.

And just like that, I was Mrs. Oliver Steele.

Later that night…

The wedding was over. The dancing, the wine, the chaos, the joy.

And now?

Now it was time to take care of the man who nearly destroyed all of it.

Because tomorrow morning, the team goes dark.

And we bring the fight to him.