Loving Storm (Ashes & Embers 5)

Britney’s note was devastating beyond words. I can’t imagine what kind of hatred, depression, and hopelessness was going through her mind to make her want to continue to hurt Storm even from the grave. I wonder if she had any idea how much damage she had done. I want to hate her. I wish I could feel glad that she’s dead. But I don’t feel those things at all. I feel sorry for her ending her life so young and taking her unborn child with her, when she didn’t have to do that at all. She was so focused on what she didn’t have that she couldn’t see what she did have.

It all makes so much sense to me now. During one of our trapped-in-a-blizzard talks, Storm admitted he didn’t do relationships—he just had friends with benefits. Sex and go. I thought he was just a guy bed-hopping with a bunch of pretty girls, avoiding commitment so he could be a playboy. It’s one of the reasons I was leery of getting involved with him. I had no idea it was because he had been through such a tragic experience with his first relationship. I didn’t know she embedded the fear of ever being in love so deeply in him that it took twelve years for him to even try again.

And out of all the women in the world, he chose me to give his heart to. Why?

I’m certainly not the prettiest girl. I’m not rich. There’s nothing exciting about me. I can be really annoying. I’m a totally shitty driver. I’m always covered in pet fur. I’m awkward. I’m cute, though. And caring. And I love him.

I hope it’s enough.

He rolls onto his side facing me, and I immediately snuggle up into the warmth of his chest as he rests his cheek against the top of my head. Our hands meet and hold onto each other under the blanket.

“You still awake?” he murmurs.

“Yeah.”

“You thinking about how much you love me?”

I smile in the dark. “Always.”

“Go to sleep and think about how much I love you.”

I do. I always do.

“No bachelor party?” Mikah yells so loudly I’m sure our neighbors heard. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding.”

“Seriously, Storm, what the fuck?” Finn adds. “It’s your night to party, grope some strippers, and get wasted before you’re shackled to a wife.”

I seem to have walked onto the patio, where Storm, his brother, and one of their friends are hanging out talking, at precisely the wrong time.

I set the tray of sodas and snacks on the table and turn to leave, but Storm grabs me and pulls me onto his lap. “My days of partying and strippers have been over for a long time,” Storm says. “And I’m not shackled, dickhead.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Mikah urges. “You don’t mind, do ya Ev?”

I squirm under Mikah’s and Finn’s stares. Unlike Storm, they’re the typical rock stars—always partying, acting crazy, sleeping with groupies, and acting arrogant and cocky twenty-four seven.

“Storm can do whatever he wants,” I tell them. “Neither one of us wanted a party.”

Finn scoffs. “So you girls aren’t going to a strip club to shove money into some buff guy’s Speedo?”

“No,” I reply. “We’re not.”

“You guys suck.”

Storm grabs a soda off the table and twists the cap off. “I don’t know what you’re bitching about, you guys party every fucking night. It’s not like you need a reason.”

Mikah shoves a handful of potato chips in his mouth and talks as he chews. “It’s the principle, man. You’re supposed to have one last night to raise hell.”

“Not interested. Why don’t you guys go out and party in my honor? Will that make you feel better?”

Mikah’s head bobs up and down. “Can we text you pictures of what you’re missing and we’re getting?”

Storm laughs and shakes his head. “Fuck no. I don’t want to see any of that shit. It’s time for you assholes to leave. I’m taking my future wife to dinner.”

We stand to say goodbye and, while Mikah and Storm continue to joke around, Finn leans down and whispers in my ear, “We’re just busting balls. We know you guys don’t want to party with anyone but each other.”

Aww. Apparently Finn’s also got a hidden nice side. I’ve slowly learned that most of the band guys, as crazy or moody as they may seem sometimes, have their good sides. They’re just guarded about who they show that side to.

I admit, I was a judgy bitch when I first met Storm. My anxiety got the best of me, and I had a meltdown from the stress of being lost, freezing, going through two car crashes in less than half an hour, and being forced to trust a total stranger wearing guy-liner. Looking back, I’m surprised he didn’t leave me in that snowbank to be a crazy freak all by myself. Luckily, he stuck around long enough to see my nice, more normal side.

Being your true self with someone is a massive cliff dive of vulnerability. Nothing has become more evident to me than that over the past year.

Chapter Nine

There are so many reasons why I wanted to have a December wedding. The arctic air, the bluish hue, the purity of a blanket of white snow and glistening icicles, the holiday music, the melancholy end of the year—and the anticipation of a new one creates an overall ambience of togetherness and love.

December holds my most precious family memories—all wrapped up in a box and tied with a pretty bow in my heart. I can’t think of a better anniversary to celebrate with Storm every year.

“You look beautiful,” Ronnie says, breaking through my daydreams. “Thank you for letting me walk you down the aisle. It means a lot. To me, and to Storm.” He takes both my hands and squeezes. “Your father would be proud of you, Evelyn. I hope you know that.”

I fight back tears so I don’t destroy the perfect makeup job Amy did on me. “Thank you for saying that. I wish he were here…but I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather give me away in his place.”

“It’s an honor.” His smile is so familiar, an older, weathered version of Storm’s.

I check myself in the mirror one more time. The diamond bracelet Storm gave me this morning sparkles in the light—my something new. My mother’s earrings swing against the tendrils of my hair—my something old. Hanging from my neck is Aria’s heart-shaped ruby, diamond, and white gold necklace—my something borrowed. And beneath my gown is a blue lace garter belt Tabitha gave me—my something blue.

Aria and Amy appear at my side in the mirror reflection, Amy in a tight red dress and Aria in a silver pantsuit.

“You’re gorgeous,” Amy says. “I hope I’m half as beautiful as you if I ever get married.”

“Are you kidding?” I retort. “You’ll be even more beautiful.”

Aria repositions the white faux fur shawl around my shoulders. “You’re both stunning. Are you ready, Evelyn? I’ll go out and make sure everything’s in order.”

Turning away from the full-length mirror, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I’m ready. Petrified, but ready.”

Storm’s mother smiles reassuringly. “All brides feel that way. It’s exciting and terrifying to get married, no matter how in love you are.”

Ronnie cocks his head at her with a teasing grin. “Were you scared on our wedding day?”

“I was scared out of my mind, darling. But it was the best decision of my life.”

Amy and I smile at each other as my future in-laws share a kiss. I hope Storm and I are still madly in love with each other after being married for more than thirty years, and I hope my best friend finds that too.

When Storm’s parents part, Aria’s eyes are glistening. “Okay…it’s time to get this wedding started!” She grabs Amy’s hand. “Let’s go tell everyone we’re ready.” She turns to Ronnie and me. “We’ll see you two on the aisle. I’ll tell them to start the music in ten minutes.”

After they leave, Ronnie takes my arm. “It’s show time!”

The Ronnie Vale is walking me down the aisle - a famous musician and singer who I grew up listening to. Oh my God…I’m marrying a famous musician.

I nod.

“You doing

okay?”

I nod a few times. Quickly.

“Breathe, Evelyn.” His words echo Storm’s. “This is nothing. Standing up there and saying ‘I do’ is the easy part. All the hard stuff comes after this. The ups and downs, raising kids, all the curves life throws at you.” He smiles down at me. “It’s good and it’s bad, but you know what? It’s all worth it when you’re going through it with the one you love. Trust me, I know.”

I’m so ready to be Mrs. Storm Valentine.