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I take a quick shower after golf and head toward the Bellagio. Troy reserved a suite, and all the tuxedos are over there for us to get dressed. But before that, he wanted to hit the blackjack tables for a bit, so I head straight for the high-limit room.

He’s already sitting there with Victor, and a pile of chips sits in front of both men. I slide into the seat on Troy’s left, and I wait until they both lose a hand at the same time before I set some money on the table and join in.

As I sit, I can’t help but remember sitting at a blackjack table last August and my entire life changing when a beautiful woman sat down at the same table as me.

It’s funny how life works in mysterious ways, and I know now that she sat there because she was meant to be in my life. If it wasn’t that night at that table, then it would have been when I showed up at Troy’s house. It was inevitable that we’d find each other, but the way it played out is one of the things I love most about our story—that we fell in love long before we knew so many things about each other, and that we stayed in love even after we found them out.

Troy’s drinking whiskey and Victor’s starting on a glass of gin, so when the waitress comes by, I order a Miller Lite. Troy gives me a look like beer is for animals, but I like what I like and I’m not about to be judged by my friend.

“Have you ever been married?” Victor asks me, and I shake my head.

“I was with someone for five years who pushed hard for it, but I knew it wasn’t right.” But the woman I’m with now…she’s right. “You?”

He nods. “Twice, and I’m probably stupid enough to do it again.”

Troy laughs. “Way to sell the concept of marriage on a man’s wedding day.”

Victor shrugs. “I believe in the institution. I don’t regret either of my marriages, and if the right woman comes along and we agree we both want to make that commitment, then we will.”

“Not Jade?” Troy presses.

Victor laughs. “No, not Jade. She’s a little…”

“Young?” Troy supplies.

Victor shoots him a look. “You’re one to talk. Isn’t Jazz half your age?”

“She is half my age, but she’s not the woman I’m marrying. She’s one of the ones Sapphire and I played with to spice things up.” Troy shrugs as if it’s totally normal to say that—to invite other women into his bed with his future wife. “That’s what you do with the young ones, right? You play, but you marry the ones who are more in line with where you are in life.”

“And that’s Joanie for you?” Victor asks. “She’s still quite a bit younger than you, right?”

“Seven years. But we’re both established in our careers. We both had our own thing before we met each other,” he says.

I think about those words and what, exactly, he means by them. Would he dismiss what Gabby and I have because we’re not both established? Because we didn’t really have our own things before we met?

Somehow our paths have started to align. I’m not sure if she wants the social media manager position with the Heat so she can work closely with me, or with her father—or even with Joanie, or if it’s because it’s a marketing position that she really wants. Does she have her own thing as Troy just said, or are our paths aligning because we are aligning?

It doesn’t matter to me. I love her either way. But I’m also trying to answer the questions that are sure to come up before they get asked. I want to be fully prepared when we deliver our news.

I’m still not quite sure how we’ve let so much time pass without telling him. Some mix of fear and bad timing, I guess. Every time we’re ready to take the leap, another obstacle jumps in our path, or Gabby isn’t ready because of the fear of rejection she lives with every single day.

Whatever the case, time is running short now.

“You’re quiet,” Troy says to me.

“Just focused on the cards,” I grunt, but the truth is that I’m focused on his daughter.

The cards are up and down, and I walk away essentially even when it’s time to head up to Troy’s suite to get dressed. I pull on my tuxedo, and I glance in the mirror. I wear a bow tie, and I don’t know if I’ve ever worn a bow tie. I feel like a waiter at a fancy restaurant or something.

I wait in the lounge area of the suite for Troy, and I feel nerves prattling at my chest.

I guess I’m just worried he’s going to find out before we get the chance to tell him.

I’ve been worried about that all along, but tonight will be different. I’ll be forced to escort her down the aisle. Forced to sit beside her at dinner, forced to dance the traditional wedding party dance with her. And all the while, I’ll have to put on the act like she’s nothing more than my best friend’s daughter when the truth is that I’ve never known a love like this.

We head down to the chapel, and Troy stops just outside it. He grabs my arm. “I’m not supposed to go in. Can you check if they’re in there and let them know I’m ready for the first look?”

I nod, and I head into the chapel.

It’s gaudy in here—too many flowers, and they all mingle together to create a rather strong fragrance. The wall behind the altar is entirely glass with a door in the middle leading to an outdoor area set up for photos, but I don’t notice any of that.

Instead, my eyes move to the absolute angel standing in the room all by herself. She faces the altar, and she’s off to the side of the room toward the front. She turns when she hears me walk in.

I freeze for a beat, my heart racing and my chest pulsing as I stare at her. She wears a simple black dress and black heels, and her hair is pulled partially back to allow her beautiful face to be the real showstopper.

I glance back at the door as it clicks shut behind me, sealing us into privacy in the chapel.

“You’re not supposed to be more beautiful than the bride on her wedding day,” I say softly as I walk slowly down the aisle toward her.

Her eyes soften, and she smiles. It’s demure and modest, and she shakes her head a little. “And you’re not supposed to be banging the groom’s daughter, but here we are.”

I chuckle as I move closer and closer, and I pull her into my arms once she’s within my reach. She glances nervously over my shoulder as she stiffens.

“He’s waiting out there for the first look pictures, and I’ve needed this all day.” I drop my lips to hers, and she laces her arms around my waist for a beat.

She pulls back. “We shouldn’t.”

“Oh, yes. We should.” The overwhelming urge to feel her body against mine pulses through me, so I back her up until she bumps into the wall, and I kiss her again.

But this time, I give her everything I’m feeling as I try to pack it all into the short window of time we have left. This time tomorrow, I’ll be on the road toward Arizona. We’ll have said our private goodbyes, and I don’t know what gets us from here to there. I don’t know what awaits tonight as anticipation plows through me or whether we’ll get the chance to tell her father.

None of that matters in here, not when I’m holding her in my arms.

In here, we’re fine.

In here, we’re us .

It’s just us, and Troy’s waiting out in the hallway until I return to give him the all-clear for his first look at his bride.

That’s what I thought was true, anyway.

I don’t see it happen since I’m still pinning Gabby to the wall with my hips, but I hear the door burst open with violence as it careens into the backstop with a loud thud.

I hear Joanie’s voice before I realize what’s happening. “Troy, stop!”

I jump apart from Gabby, but it’s too late. Troy storms in. His nostrils are flared, his face is red, and the flint in his gaze is harsh as the truth seems to crash into him.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he demands.

“Troy, your heart,” Joanie pleads, her tone full of desperation as if this one event will send him back into the ER. She grabs onto his arm to stop him, but he shakes her off.

“My heart is fine. What the hell is going on?”

I glance at Gabby, who looks like she’s about to throw up, and I clear my throat to say something— anything —to answer his question.

I come up short, and Gabby steps in first.

“Cooper and I are together,” she blurts.

Joanie gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth as the truth comes out, and Gabby and I both stand stock still as we await his reaction.

“You’re together ?” Troy asks. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“We’re seeing each other,” Gabby says, trying again and giving exactly zero more information.

“That’s ridiculous,” Troy says, shaking his head. He looks at me as if this just doesn’t add up. “You’re in your thirties.” He turns to his daughter. “And you’re still in college. What do you mean you’re seeing each other?”

“I’m in love with him,” Gabby whispers, and she reaches over to grab my hand.

We both brace ourselves for the fallout. I open my mouth to admit that I love her, too, but Troy cuts in first.

“Love?” he practically roars. “Like you know what love is. You’re twenty-fucking-one!”

“You were twenty-one when you had me,” she argues.

“Yes, and admittedly I was stupid,” he says.

“Whoa.” I hold up a hand to stop him from saying something he’ll regret. Implying that his daughter is stupid because of her age is crossing the line, and I don’t give a fuck who he is. I’m going to stand up for my girl.

But this time Joanie cuts in before I get the chance to say anything else. “You had all the time in the world to tell him, and you choose today to get caught? Our wedding day?”

“We didn’t choose it—” Gabby begins, but her father cuts her off.

“Wait a second,” he says, turning toward Joanie. “How much time did they have, exactly?”

Joanie’s eyes widen as she realizes she is caught, too.

“You knew?” he asks her, that flint in his eyes turning even colder. “And you kept it from me?”

She sputters with something to say, but she comes up short.

“I can’t marry someone who thinks it’s okay to lie to me. God damn, I can’t even look at the three of you right now.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Fuck this,” he mutters, and he walks out of the room.