The Bride Wore Size 12

I turn to Cooper, who’s slipped an arm around my waist.

“We did it,” I say breathlessly. “We actually did it.”

“Of course we did it,” he says, kissing me again, this time more tenderly. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t mean that,” I say, looking around at the faces of all our friends and family. “Or rather, I do, but I mean . . . I think we might actually have changed our luck.”

“Heather, don’t you know? We’ve always had good luck. We found each other, didn’t we?”

I smile at him, realizing he’s right. Once again, I’m the one who wasn’t seeing things clearly . . . they weren’t at all the way they seemed. I slip my hand into his and allow him to lead me down the aisle, while everyone continues to applaud and cheer.

“What do we do now?” I ask him, forgetting the details of Perry’s carefully mapped-out plan for the afternoon. Sign the wedding license? Give the officiant his fee? Sit for photos? Cocktail hour? Sit-down supper? Dancing? Cake?

“Now?” Cooper looks back at me with a joyous grin. “Now we live happily ever after.”