The last time I stood at the altar waiting for my bride, I was blindsided. But Brynn wasn’t the girl for me. No, the woman of my dreams had been sitting front and center in the pews. She rescued me that night. And I like to think that even then, I knew Mina Pappas, the girl I’ve known since I was eight years old, would be the one to piece me back together again.
As I walk down the aisle, my groomsmen at my back, I look at the people in the pews who have come out to see Mina and I get married. Old classmates, including Sophia and her new husband, wave to me. She called us after our engagement, taking responsibility for our relationship in the first place because love was in the air in Maine. Mina and I let her believe it because it made her happy. I spot my mom and dad chatting it up with one of their old friends, but the second they spot me, their faces light up with such joy that I feel a rush of gratitude.
Their affection for each other showed me the kind of love I wanted more than anything, the kind of love I found with Mina.
Beside them, Sarah sits with her and Effie’s adopted daughter, Thalia. She’s three-years-old, more adorable than any little girl has the right to be, and has completely stolen the hearts of every single one of us in the family. Seeing Mina hold Thalia does all sorts of things to my heart—namely, I can’t wait to see our own child in her arms someday soon.
My gaze bounces over the guests until I spot a familiar brunette seated in the third pew from the front. I wondered if she would come, and I’m glad that she did. I stop beside her, dropping low enough to murmur, “Mina’s gonna want to meet you later. She holds you singularly responsible for me coming to my senses and realizing she was the perfect girl for me.”
Savannah Rose tips her head back to meet my gaze. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I nod to the dark-haired guy sitting next to her, reaching out a hand. “Good to see you, man. It’s been a while.”
His smile isn’t as wide as Savannah’s, but I don’t miss the humor in his dark gaze. “Same to you, Stamos. Now get up there and get married so I can stop reading about this shit in Celebrity Tea.”
I bark out a laugh. “Jealous I’m stealing the limelight away from you?”
The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes crinkle, and I slap him on the back before squeezing Savannah Rose’s arm. “See you two later.”
With sure steps, I move to stand in my spot. Vince falls into place behind me, and the rest of my guys sit in the first pew. Although we could have had them stand up with us, Mina and I decided that we wanted to keep the ceremony small and intimate with Effie by her side and Vince by mine.
I scrub my hands over my pants, and keep my gaze locked on the doors leading into the ecclesia. Any moment now, my nifi will walk through them. I wait, heart in my throat, as the guests take their seats and the music begins to play. I wait, even as the doors swing open and I spot Mina’s mom walking down the aisle with the flower girls.
Her smile is hesitant, her shoulders not quite squared off, but she holds her chin up high as she keeps her gaze locked on me and the priest. The guests murmur to themselves as she passes them, and then their murmuring gains momentum when she doesn’t take a seat in the pews but steps up to my side instead.
Surprise grounds my feet to the floor.
“Everything okay?” I ask, my gaze snapping to the front doors of the church. “Is Mina—”
“She’s fine, Niko. She loves you.” She fumbles with her purse, reaching inside. “I wanted to give you something.”
Now? I bite back the question. “Of course.”
I catch a flash of gold that she presses into my palm. Harsh edges cut into my flesh, and then Mina’s mom is talking fast, in Greek. “The cross belonged to Prodromos. I’ve kept it all these years.” She reaches forward and pats my chest, pulling at the lapels of my tux. Her lips slip into a watery smile. “You are everything I wanted for my daughter. Kind, honorable. A good, Greek boy who will cherish her. Thank you, Niko, for loving my Ermione.”
My jaw tightens as I swallow. Every guest is looking our way, but I give Mina’s mother my full attention when I kiss her cheek, then kiss her other, as is the Greek way. “You don’t need to thank me for loving her, Kyria.”
She nods succinctly, like she’s on the verge of tears. With another pat of her hand on my chest, she murmurs, “Give her the cross when you give her the ring. So she knows her father is here with her.”
“I will.”
I make the promise as Mina steps inside the church, and then there’s nothing on my mind but her. She has Katya on one arm and Dimitri at the other, and Effie behind her. My heart races inside my chest, and I lose all hope of keeping my hands dry when I drag my gaze over Mina’s wedding dress. It’s lace with a low neckline and no straps, and her pink hair—that hue that I remember so damn well—is down and braided, resting on her collarbone.
The veil shields her face from me but I know, deep in my soul, that she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
The four of them walk down the aisle, and when they reach me, Katya and Dimitri kiss their sister and sit down together in the first pew with their mother. Effie hangs back, fluffing her best friend’s train, before moving to the left.
And then it’s me and Mina.
I don’t wait for the papas to tell me to hold off or wait. Impulse guides my fingers to the gossamer veil, and I lift it up, revealing the jut of her chin, and the full, burgundy-painted lips, and the crooked nose, and those damn honey-rimmed-with-amber eyes that are my undoing. Around her neck is a copper penny hooked on a delicate rose-gold chain—a new lucky penny, given to her by my mother shortly after Jake Rhodan plead guilty in court. Only the love of my life would get more excited about a penny than the hydrotherapy room I finally put in for her a few months back.
I wouldn’t change a thing, lucky penny or not.
“Hey, you,” I murmur as I tuck the veil back.
Her mouth purses to keep from laughing out loud. “You weren’t supposed to do that yet.”
“I’m not supposed to do this either, but I’m willing to break every single rule—for you.” I hook my arms around her lower back, her father’s cross clasped in one hand, and drop my mouth to hers for a heady kiss. The guests roar with applause, clapping and whistling, and I hear one deep voice holler, “Can’t you do anything right, Stamos?” I know that last one is Vince, the asshole.
“I love you,” I whisper by Mina’s ear, “and I didn’t want to wait until the end of the ceremony to tell you that.”
Her smile wobbles, and her cheeks burn with color, and then she pulls me back down for one more lingering kiss. “S’agapo, and anytime you want to stop a wedding for a kiss, I don’t see any point in protesting.”
We exchange our vows, our crowns perched on our heads, as is Greek tradition, the strip of satin connecting the crowns together as a symbol that we’re now united, and then I turn to my best friend, my lover, and my confidante, and, yes, my sister’s best friend, and press her father’s cross into her palm. At the question in her gaze, I murmur, “A wedding gift from your mother. It was your dad’s.”
Tears well in her eyes, and she sneaks a glance at the pews, no doubt looking for the woman who birthed her. She mouths something I can’t quite read from my angle, and then she’s glancing back up at me, her heart in her eyes and her dark-painted lips pulled wide.
“I love you,” she tells me softly. “I love you so damn much.”
She’s not supposed to curse in the church, but I’ll always be down to break the rules with her. Gently, with purpose, I slip a rose-gold band onto her finger, nestled next to her engagement ring.
Nifi. Wife.
Sýzygos. Husband.
My hands are clammy and my heart is racing and there’s no use denying it: call me a romantic, a pussy, a believer in the unicorn of all emotions—true love—but I found the real deal in a woman with pink hair and a big heart and an even bigger smile, and I’m holding on with both hands.
I lean down to brush my lips with hers. “I love you, too, koukla. Now and forever.”
The End.