Novel Name : The Carrero Heart - Beginning (Friends to Lovers)

Chapter 189

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I look down at the ivory tulle and lace molded to my body billowing out into a full skirt as Emma and

Leila fluff up the layers. Christian is messing with my bodice, yanking it tighter from the back and I know

he’s trying to make my cleavage ride up and punch me in the face for maximum “ooomph” but my

breasts are a little tender and this is not pleasant. Jenny’s messing with my veil and everything is

hemming in around me. They are all suffocating me like crazy with their prodding and pandering and

I’m like a simmering pot about to boil over.

Staring at the double doors in front of us, the wooden blockage to the hundreds of eyes that are waiting

to pull me apart out there. I start to feel overwhelmed and dizzy and stand stock still as my blood runs

cold and heart starts pounding faster in my chest. I think my dress is maybe too tight because I am

struggling to breathe, and my vision is getting a little swimmy.

Why the hell did I agree to this? To a huge fucking massive white ordeal, and why did I think that

designing my own dress would be such an awesome idea?

So many doubts and fears all hit me in one low blow right about now and I try to take some calming

breaths, pushing off the fussing hands and hold myself together. The panic is coursing up my body and

I swear I think I may pass out. I need everyone to take about ten steps back and give me a moment.

It’s happening so fast and I am spiraling out of control.

“Ready?” My dad’s voice makes me jump, as he holds out a hand to me and I feel like I’m going to

throw up, anxiety swirling around my head, breathing labored and I can barely move. I’m being crushed

by my own fear and suddenly I can’t do this. I’m terrified.

“I need a minute.” my voice is weak, all over the place and all eyes snap to me in complete alarm which

only makes me a hundred times worse. I’m having an all-out anxiety attack while the guy I’m supposed

to marry is on the other side of the door… With a thousand complete strangers waiting expectantly.

OMG. I’m going to die.

I turn and make a move for the little room where I got myself calm the first time and everyone seems to

stare at me in disbelief and not react. I move fast, pushing my sister out of the way and practically run

in there and grab at the open door.

“Just… Need… A… Second.” I can barely get the words out, ignoring the voices coming after me as I

slide inside and shut it on them, locking it tight and bend to stick my head between my knees, before I

pass out. I get a face full of dress and choke as it sticks to my lip gloss, but If I stay upright I will literally

black out and face palm the floor.

Think of Arry… Think of Arry.

It’s all I can chant as the darkness swirls into my vision and I automatically clutch around for my tiny

wrist bag that has my cell and my most treasured possession inside. I wanted them with me. My

necklace, my puzzle piece from him that I was scared would get caught in my veil with its intricate lace

and get pulled off, and my contact via my cell, because he always told me to take my phone with me no

matter where I was, so I can get to him when I need him.

I have never forgotten that.

I need him now.

I call his number with shaking hands, still bent double, praying that even standing in an alter in front of

a few million hundred thousand, way too many guests, that he has it and start chewing my lip. Using

my bouquet as a brush to sweep some imaginary dust from my dress. I have no clue what I am even

doing right now.

It rings twice, seeming like an eternity as I stare at the floor in front of me and try to breathe before he

answers. I can almost picture his confusion when his voice surrounds me.

“Baby? I’m standing at the alter waiting for you, why are you calling me?” He sounds amused, a little

wary, maybe, but he would never think the worst that I am not coming. I don’t think. I hope not. I guess

he thought I would have been out by now, seeing as the wedding song was cued to start and I am not

exactly fit to be out there yet.

“I’m terrified. I don’t think I can come out. I can’t do it, I’m freaking out, Arry. I can’t breathe.” I panic

down the phone breathlessly, trying so hard to calm myself as my veil falls round my shoulders and

starts falling in my face. I straighten up to blow it away and fan the heat out of my cheeks with the

flowers that are looking a little unloved now. I almost poke myself in the face with a stray stigma and

drop yellow dust in mid-air from flapping it around.

I don’t even like lilies. Why did I pick them?

“Terrified of marrying me?” He’s trying to sound normal, but I catch the wounded tone in his voice, and

it kills me inside. Stalling my manic panic as my heart bleeds for my boy.

This isn’t about him. This is Sophie having an epic meltdown of nerves and loss of bravery. Of

everyone out there staring at me walking down the aisle in a dress I made and making a complete ass

of myself.

Don’t think I don’t know Miss. Boobs. is out there in the Carrero staff who were invited, to scowl at me

marrying the guy of her dreams. I hope she’s allergic to wedding cake and dies. He did ask if I was

okay with her being on the guest list and I decided where she is concerned, I have to suck it up and

remember that he chose me in life. She will never have a chance with him, not as long as I make him

happy and that’s been my whole focus since we made up.

“No… About all of them, waiting, watching. For me to screw up or trip, or stare at me until I do. To judge

my dress, my skills, my everything. I can’t open the door, I’m too scared.” All those scrutinizing eyes

and minds, they remind me so much of a court room so long ago. Maybe that’s the fear, the doors to a

crowded room of people, waiting to see what I say or do. It’s too much. I’ve never liked being center of

attention and my palms are clammy with the thought of being it today.

“I’m coming to get you, baby” He doesn’t hesitate, his voice back to strong and calm, like he thinks he

knows how to fix this. Arry doesn’t care if this is not protocol, all he knows is I need him. And he told me

so many times his purpose in life, is to come when I do.

“That’s not what we’re supposed to do.” tears fill my eyes and I sniff back another shallow breath,

relieved to know he’s coming for me anyway. I can hear voices outside, they are trying to get me to

open the door, but I blank them out. Just focusing on his voice as I walk in circles and fan myself with

dying lilies in a bid to cool my face. This room feels excruciatingly small and my body temp is almost at

sauna levels.

“That’s the beauty of you and me, baby, we never do what we are meant too. This is our day, we make

the rules, we always have. I’m coming for you, get ready to let me in.” I can hear a little commotion

around him too, I guess they are asking him where he is going but I clutch the cell tightly to my ear and

concentrate on his voice. Like a dying woman clinging to a life raft.

“I’m in the side room. You will see my family trying to break in outside it.” I’ve given up on protests

about this not being normal, because this is what I need. I don’t want to do this alone, without him.

even though I’m supposed too. There’s still a lot of knocking and friends talking through the door at me.

I can hear Leila making threats about strangling me with my veil and I eyeroll. The noise seems to calm

for a second and I pause to listen, Arrick’s cell sounds muffled as though he’s either covering it or got it

by his side before his voice comes back at me.

“I’m here, outside, open the door.” He cuts the call as I hear the soft knock on the door and relief swims

through me. He must have walked fast, even if the aisle is not that long. Without hesitation I unlatch the

lock and step back as he slides in, his back to me at first as he waves away someone outside with a

reassuring few words. Probably Leila.

From the back he looks tall and beautiful in all black, fitted tailoring. My muscular fighter in all his strong

glory, classy, handsome and everything I need in this moment.

His eyes immediately come to me, scanning me for the first time in my wedding dress when turns to

face me. His whole face softens, he pauses to inhale emotionally, and he gets a little misty eyed almost

instantly, before pulling himself together.

I kind of feel the same seeing him in his full black tux and bow tie that I insisted he had to wear. I had

my doubts about such a basic look that he wears to almost every formal do, but the Carrero men can

pull off tuxedos perfectly. He looks amazing and so gorgeous.

“Wow… You look…” He hesitates for a moment then bridges the gap between us and kisses me

impulsively. Cupping my face and pulling me against him. Softly, meaningfully and it disperses all

doubts in a second. I could never doubt marrying him when one kiss can melt me into a puddle of goo,

even after two years of kissing me this way. He pulls back to rest his forehead against mine and we

seem to breathe each other in for a second. He smells delicious as always and I am almost totally calm

in one inhale of him.

“Beautiful?” I nudge him in the abdomen, and he touches his nose to mine.

“Breath-taking. Perfect. Your dress is blow my mind stunning.” His eyes scan me again and he makes

me do a little twirl under his arm with a huge smile before leaning in to kiss me a second time amid my

giggles. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Arry always knows what to say.

“I don’t know… Maybe you have really bad luck and I’m Karma’s way of being a bitch.” I smirk,

pressing my palms to his chest as he shakes his head at me and pulls me against him with an arm

snugly.

“How about we go get this over and done with and have a blowout party. I am so over being celibate

when my bride looks like this. I’ll walk you right to the alter, you and me. Let’s go start our life together,

the right way.” He brushes a stray face from my hair and pushes my veil back to sit neatly where it

belongs. Tending to me and easing my frayed nerves effortlessly. I watch that handsome clean-shaven

face with utter adoration. Sobering at the fact we still need to go out there and maybe I would rather

stay in here with him for the rest of my life.

We could totally make it cozy in here for long term cohabiting.

“Last chance to run.” I nudge him shakily and he rests those perfectly solid hazel eyes on me with a

smile. Looking confident in the biggest day of his life. It’s like he has no nerves at all.

“Is that a reminder for me, or yourself?” He jests. Dimples on show and I melt even more.

“You.” I lay my cheek against him and let him hug me tight. Not caring if he ruins my hair. I need his

hold right now for courage and so much more. I need to feel as calm as he seems to be, but isn’t that

the beauty of Arry? Calm and cool, like always.

“I’ve never been much of a runner, I tend to stand my ground and fight, it’s why I’m a boxer, baby” He

points out and laughs when I sucker punch him lightly.

I lean up and move back to smooth out his lapels and fix the flower in his buttonhole with a look of

determination on my face. Seeing as I flattened it with my hug. Using this moment to ground myself

and get my nerves under control so I can get through the next agonizing minutes.

“I can do this.” I say to him stubbornly, lifting my chin defiantly.

“Yes, you can.” He presses my nose with his thumb in a cute gesture and grins at me. I giggle, drink in

that face, the twinkle in his eye and can’t help thinking back to this exact conversation on my first day in

Paris fashion school. It seems like a million years ago and I thank my lucky stars that we made it to this

moment after everything we have gone through. I blow out air slowly and center myself.

“Don’t let go of my hand.” I blink up at him insecurely and slide mine into his snugly, childishly so. I

need reassurance, I need his strength today.

“I won’t. I promise.” He pulls my hand into his arm and keeps hold, signaling that we should get going,

that he isn’t going to let go and I take a long low steady breath. I know my family out there are probably

wondering what’s going on and I sigh for the last time. I cannot keep putting this off and delaying the

inevitable. If I want to marry him, then I have to walk out there and not fall flat on my face.

Not sure how my dad is going to take this new arrangement as he is meant to be walking me down the

aisle, but I don’t think I can do it without Arrick beside me. If I do trip, I know he will catch me, and my

dad probably wouldn’t even notice. Arry tugs me bossily and as much as I want to resist, I let him, with

a grim expression and heart thundering like mad out of my rib cage. He pulls me with him and leads us

back into the corridor of clucking and fussing hands and silences them with a palm raised up high.

They all fall silent and look at him as though he’s about to bestow some answers.

“I need Sophie to walk me down the aisle, I am way too nervous.” He shrugs, and everyone looks at

him for a moment as though they are trying to gauge if he is serious. Emma breaks into a smile and

moves past us to go get out there and to her place at the aisle beside Jake. She’s my maid of honor

and I know she’s going to make sure another twenty Carreros don’t come thundering in here to find out

what the holdup is. Everyone will be wondering what’s going on, seeing as the groom hightailed it back

here too.

I bet they all think the bride is running halfway down the street with him in tow.

“I don’t care how you get her down there, can you hurry it up? This church has another booking right

after you two. This was a favor on short notice.” Leila pushes me from behind and starts fussing with

the layers of my dress and gets flicked with my bouquet.

I am not against assaulting my sister on my wedding day.

“What about me?” My dad butts in, appearing at the side of Arrick and that guilt courses through me as

I blink up at my future husband with a look of panic. Scared he will try and let my dad take me from

him. I know Arry will understand the importance of my dad handing me over.

“She has two hands” Arrick throws me a wink and I hand off my bouquet to him, so my dad can get

beside me too, even though this is going to look crazy when we get out there. Arrick takes them and

lets them hang beside his suit carefully.

“Sounds good to me.” My dad shrugs and takes my free arm and lines us up ready to face the music.

See, I knew Arry would have an answer.

“Wait… Wait.” I start struggling to get free and turn on Leila who is trying to get out from behind us to

go have the music started. Panicking as a last bout of nerves and fear overtake me with a dumb

realization.

“What?” She says sassily. I can feel all eyes on me from everyone in here, waiting patiently to get

moving.

“I never gave you our song choice for the wedding march. I don’t want to get married to that shitty

traditional song. It’s morbid.” I don’t want that boring tune to be all I remember when walking my last

path of Huntsberger.

Yeah maybe I should have thought of this detail before.

“Relax. It’s done.” Leila eyerolls and wanders to the door to get ready to open them. Not even phased

and acting like I’m a massive drama queen.

Takes one to know one. That saying seems to be something I use on her a lot. Maybe I should

remember that next time I think Arry is being difficult when the reality is it’s probably me.

Christian pushes my butt in a bid to move me and I hear Jenny giggle at him. I scowl back but am met

with the pouty look of a best friend who is dying for a party.

“I chose a song for us.” Arrick smiles, cutting in and I blanche at him. He never mentioned it at all, but I

have spent the last eleven days buried in my sewing room and fifty layers of tulle every night until late. I

sort of let him take over when it came to dealing with details, and Leila. We have been like ships

passing in the night in getting everything ready for this.

“Not Ed Sheeran?” Please no! I beg him frantically, remembering he told me we had a song from her

party that made him think of me. “Perfect” I think it was called. I don’t want to follow my sister’s theme

of Ed love music and have to endure two Ed Sheeran first dances a year at anniversary parties.

“I got this, trust me.” Arrick winks and I relax back into his hold. I watch his face questioningly and

check for hints that he may be telling fibs to get me moving. He looks way too confident in his music

choices and I decide to trust him and let this go. A little tense, I let out another exhale and relax my

grip, ready to roll. Another shove in the butt from Christian before he fluffs out my veil and we start

moving.

We can do this. What was I worrying about?

Of course, he’s got this. It’s Arrick. There is never any doubt in his abilities to take control.

***

Walking down the aisle to a song called ‘Take my hand’ almost makes me break. The words are so

beautiful and so heart tugging I almost burst into happy tears mid walk. He was right, he does have it

under control and I literally cannot walk straight from the way his song choice makes me a complete

emotional wreck. I do make it though, and he holds onto me for every single step like he said he would.

Keeping his eyes on mine as we walk and distracting me from the hordes of people focused on us.

It’s not a conventional walk down the red carpet. Sandwiched between two men in tuxedos like a drunk

woman needing walking assistance, but I guess nothing about me ever has been, and when my dad

kisses me on the head and leaves me holding onto Arrick, right where I belong.

The lyrics wash over me, every word so perfect. He chose the right song and if music had the power to

make you fall in love with someone all over again then he’s won himself a second wave of my endless

devotion. The hopeless romantic in him still exists and we stand looking at one another as the song

plays out.

Words I could imagine him saying to me, imagine him singing with his guitar and it only makes it mean

so much more. I have to dab my eyes with a tissue he hands me as tears threaten to ruin my makeup. I

am so damn overcome with exploding emotions.

Arrick moves my hand to both of his between us as I take my flowers from him finally, and we stand

locked in a gaze that feels like home. He is my grounding force, calm in the storm, light in the tunnel.

He keeps me safe and secure. He makes me brave.

Why was I even scared?

No one else in this room registers at all now I am standing facing him and all that matters, all that I see,

is those perfect soft brown eyes and that smile with those cute dimples.

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