Page 153 of Old Habits

“Most of them, probably.” His smirk travels up his cheek. “Just prove them wrong, Jove.”

“So, you arranged a surprise wedding knowing full well how much I desperately want their approval, thus forcing me to go through with it or else tumble right back to square one.”

“Yep,” he says.

I shake my head. “Well played, Myers.”

“And besides…” he gazes down at me with those deep, bright eyes, “if you do this, I might be compelled — as your new husband — to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

My heart swells. “Now you’re just cheating.”

Will shifts a little closer. “Either you love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me… or you don’t. I know where I stand on that. Where do you?”

My eyes wander from his face to the crowd. There must be at least a hundred of them filling these chairs. Marv, Mr. and Mrs. Trin, teachers, old classmates, and neighbors. So many people, several of which attended that damn meeting just to vote me out of town, now sit here with smiling, welcoming eyes.

This is it. This is the moment I always dreaded. Born in Clover, Kansas. Die in Clover, Kansas. Both equally as cringe-inducing before but now… I don’t know anymore. I thought living in Clover, Kansas would be just as awful but maybe not with Will by my side.

I look at Hank again. He smiles in his own stern, hard-assed way. We still have a long way to go as father and daughter, there’s no denying that. He wasn’t much of a dad but I can’t say being a daughter was my best trait either. We’re willing to try but I can’t do that from anywhere but here.

I turn back to Will, my eyes slowly trailing up to his loving, victorious eyes.

Will Myers. My best friend. My oldest habit.

Of course, I’ll spend the rest of my life with him.

Natalie stands behind me with a wide grin and two bouquets of red roses. I twist toward her and extend a hand.

“Just give me the damn flowers,” I say.

She gleefully tosses me one. I catch it with quivering fingers, just barely hanging on as my nerves kick in and threaten to knock me over. The tension in the crowd shifts as they audibly exhale and sit back in the chairs, almost as if they’d all expected to tackle me as I hurled back down the aisle.

Will extends his hand to me. I lay my palm in his and every ounce of fear and doubt in me melts away.

“Dearly beloved.”

I flinch as Coach Rogers’ voice booms in front of us. He stands at the altar in a black suit with a small notebook in his hands, reading aloud from it with a glorious smile on his face.

I look at Will with confusion. “He’s ordained?” I whisper.

He leans in. “Tucker asked Pastor Clark but he wouldn’t do it,” he murmurs. “Apparently, Mrs. Clark is still a little hung up on the whole George Washington thing. We had to improvise.”

“Okay...”

“But it’s all right.” He winks. “I had Tuck leave a little… you-know-what on their porch.”

I bite my cheek to keep my laugh in. “God, you’re perfect.”

He straightens back up with a deeper smirk.

“I look at the two of you…” Coach continues, smiling at us, “and I’m reminded of a quote by the great Albert Einstein.”

Will groans softly.

Coach doesn’t seem to notice. “Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results.”

The crowd chuckles behind us.

“Really?” Will asks, his voice deadpan.