* * *
A week later, I was standing at the altar with my latest bride and groom, trying not to cry as they vowed eternal love for each other. Their French bulldog, Barnaby, who'd acted as their ring bearer, had decided I was his best friend. He sat at my feet after he came down the aisle, farting up a storm throughout pretty much the entire ceremony.
Holding my bouquet to my nose so I could avoid Barnaby's nuclear farts, I saw someone from the corner of my eyes stifle a laugh. Turning slightly, my gaze landed on a face I thought I'd never see again.
Rowan. Rowan was here.
My heart immediately began pounding like a drum. I couldn't even hear what the officiant was saying now. I just stared at Rowan, wondering if I was hallucinating.
He was wearing a gray suit with a light green tie, his
