20 Days In His Bedroom

Chapter Sixty seven

One week later

"Please don't cry," Emma says, adjusting the veil on my head for what feels like the tenth time. Her hands are gentle, but her voice is firm. "You look stunning, Twyla. Like... like a painting."

I breathe in, trying not to burst. My wedding dress feels soft against my skin, layers of lace and satin hugging me like a memory. It's everything I dreamed it would be—elegant, romantic, magical. A famous designer made it just for me, at Kyle's insistence, and somehow, it fits me like it was sewn from my own heartbeat.

The hotel room is lit by sunlight spilling through the tall windows. White and blush balloons float lazily in the corners, each string tied to a framed photo of Kyle and me. Some are playful—us laughing at the beach, him sneaking a kiss while I wasn't looking. Others are still and quiet—our eyes locked in a moment, forever frozen.

I can't stop staring at them. Every picture feels like a lifetime.

"What do you think he's doing right now?" I ask Emma quietly.

"Probably pacing and sweating and yelling at people about flower arrangements," she grins. "Or maybe just checking his hair for the fiftieth time."

That makes me laugh a little. "He's going to look amazing, isn't he?"

"Oh, yeah. Tall, dark, and annoyingly perfect." Emma snaps another picture of me on her phone and sighs. "God, if I didn't love you, I'd totally hate you."

The door opens and Mom walks in. She freezes.

"Twyla..." Her voice breaks. She covers her mouth with her hand. "Is this really my daughter?"

That's all it takes. I lose it.

Tears fall before I can stop them. I turn around to face her, my heart racing, eyes blurry. "Mom..."

She walks over slowly and wraps her arms around me, like she's gathering all the years we spent together in one final embrace.

"I can't believe you're getting married," she whispers against my hair. "I still remember you running through the house in your princess dress when you were five, yelling that you wanted to marry your teddy bear."

I laugh through my tears. "He was loyal."

"Not more than Kyle," she murmurs. "He's good, Twyla. He loves you. That's all I ever wanted."

"But you're still going to be here for me, right?" My voice is small and scared, the little girl in me resurfacing. "Even after today?"

She cups my face, wiping my tears with her thumbs. "Always. Even if you live on the other side of the world. Even when you're a mom and I'm old and wrinkled. I'll always be here. You're my baby girl."

I want to stay in this moment forever.

Emma claps suddenly. "Okay! Enough crying! Your eyeliner cost more than my entire makeup bag. Let's not waste it!"

I smile shakily as she leads me out of the room.

In the hallway, everything is buzzing. Hotel staff move around us like background music—checking flowers, lighting candles, whispering directions into headsets. I feel like I'm walking through a dream. Is this really happening?

"The photographer is waiting downstairs," Emma says. "It's time for the first look."

My heart jumps into my throat.

The elevator feels like it's moving too fast and too slow all at once. I clutch the bouquet in my hands, my fingers trembling. Each floor we pass feels like a countdown.

When we reach the lobby, the world changes.

The decorations are flawless. Soft lights wrap around white drapes, golden petals line the floor, and a soft instrumental version of my favorite song hums in the background. It smells like roses and cinnamon and something sweeter than air.

The photographer positions me carefully.

"Just wait here," he says. "He'll walk in any moment now. When I say, turn around."

I nod, barely breathing.

And then I hear the footsteps.

"Turn around."

I do.

Kyle stands there in a black tuxedo, his dark hair slicked back just right, a small smile playing on his lips like he already knows what I'm thinking. And maybe he does. Maybe he always has.

My breath catches. He looks like every love song I've ever played on repeat.

"What?" I say softly, blinking at him. "Do I look weird?"

He walks toward me, eyes locked on mine.

"I waited for so long," he murmurs. "But now... no one can stop me. Not even you."

Before I can respond, he pulls me close and kisses me. Gentle. Certain. Like he knows this kiss is the first of a million more.

The camera clicks, capturing the moment forever.

My cheeks are burning. I glance around, mortified. "Kyle, my mom is literally watching—"

"I don't care," he says, still holding me like I might disappear. "Let them watch. Let the whole world watch. You're mine."

My heart stumbles over itself. "I love you."

"I love you too," he whispers, pressing his forehead to mine. "And I promise, Twyla... I will live my life for you. I'll never cheat, never lie, never let you cry alone. You are the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

Tears sting my eyes again, but this time, I let them fall.

"It was the best coincidence," I whisper. "And I'll love you until my last breath."