The front door flew open with a gust of ocean breeze and the unmistakable sound of boots stomping through the entryway.
"Where's my girls?" Max's voice boomed down the hallway, warm and full of joy.
Rowan let out a little squeal from her blanket nest in the living room, as if she knew precisely who was home.
Mia stood, heart thumping, and then he was there—sun-kissed, scruffy, wearing his training camp sweat and that familiar grin that always made her feel like the only woman in the world.
She didn't hesitate. She crossed the room in three quick steps and launched into his arms. Max caught her easily, holding her like he'd been starved for the feel of her.
"God, I missed you," he murmured into her hair. "You have no idea."
"I might," she whispered against his neck, squeezing him tight.
Behind them, Jeremy entered with a sheepish grin, immediately scooped up Rowan, and headed to the back patio where April and Heather were lounging with coffee and sunscreen.
Everything felt whole again.
The wedding was two days away—two. The calm before the storm had settled over the house like a dream. And now, with Max home, it felt real.
That afternoon, Mia slipped away for her final dress fitting with Ashley in tow. The boutique sat perched on a hillside, all glass walls and white linen drapes, sunlight streaming in like a blessing.
The moment Mia stepped into the gown, she felt it: herself. Completely, finally, at ease in her skin.
The soft ivory hugged her figure in all the right places—delicate lace at the bodice, sheer sleeves dusted with floral appliqué, and a flowy chiffon train that followed her like a whisper. Though her body had changed from pregnancy, it felt firmer, softer in places, and more beautiful than ever before.
She turned to look in the mirror and gasped a little.
Ashley came up behind her, hands over her heart. "You're going to break him in half when he sees you walk down that aisle."
Mia's eyes misted over. "I don't even care if my mascara runs. I want him to feel everything I'm feeling."
"Oh, he will," Ashley smirked. "You just brought a baby into the world and managed to look like an ethereal beach goddess. He's done for."
They laughed, and Mia felt grounded for the first time since the whirlwind move to LA.
Back at the house, the final waves of family began to arrive. Jessie and Mark pulled into the driveway with their two kids tumbling out of the SUV. The girls squealed as they ran to join Heather and April's little ones playing in the backyard under the string lights and palms.
Frank, their dad, arrived not long after, a little grayer, but still full of quiet strength and warmth that made everyone feel at home.
The house was full of laughter, shouts from the backyard, the smell of grilled food, the clink of champagne glasses, and the soft lull of the ocean just beyond.
Max slipped up behind Mia as she watched everyone from the balcony. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"I still can't believe I get to marry you again," he murmured.
She smiled, leaning into him. "You never stopped. We just get to celebrate it this time."
"And this time," he said, pressing a kiss just behind her ear, "you'll walk down the aisle with our daughter watching."
Mia turned, eyes shining. "She'll be wearing a flower crown."
Max grinned. "So will I, if that's what it takes."
They laughed, holding onto each other in the soft glow of dusk, surrounded by the people they loved most.
Two days to go.
And everything was finally, perfectly in place.
Back at the house, the final wave of family began to arrive. Jessie and Mark—Mia's older brothers—pulled into the driveway one after the other, both SUVs packed with chaos and love. Between them and their wives, Heather and April, they had seven kids, all bursting out of the vehicles like popcorn.
The backyard erupted with laughter as cousins reunited, squealing and sprinting barefoot across the grass under the string lights. Mia stepped outside to greet them, instantly wrapped in warm, familiar hugs. Seeing her big brothers here, seeing her family complete, made something in her heart settle.
This wasn't just Max's home anymore. It was theirs. Family from both sides had come together, and the house was now alive with joy from deep roots and new beginnings.
The sun dipped low over the Malibu coastline, casting a golden glow across the lush garden behind Max's childhood home. Lanterns hung from the pergola in soft sways, flickering with candlelight as the evening breeze rolled in from the sea. Charolette had been planning the rehearsal dinner for weeks, and every inch of the space reflected her touch—elegant, welcoming, filled with subtle nods to the couple she adored like her own children.
The long dinner table curved under a canopy of climbing roses and twinkling string lights, with white linens, eucalyptus sprigs, and tall, tapered candles. Guests were beginning to gather, laughter echoing through the garden as glasses of wine were passed and children weaved between chairs, sticky with lemonade and joy.
Max stood near the grill with Frank, flipping skewers and teasing his brothers-in-law, while Jeremy set up speakers and played a playlist Mia had made: soft acoustic love songs, mellow and bright. The air buzzed with celebration, not just of the wedding, but of a family that had grown bigger, stronger, and more deeply connected.
Mia stepped out of the house, holding Rowan in a pale blue sundress on her hip. Her hair was twisted, and a flower was tucked behind her ear. Her brothers, Jessie and Mark, looked up from where they were helping their kids decorate mason jars with shells and sand and immediately lit up.
"There's the bride!" Mark called, lifting his youngest onto his shoulders. "You sure you don't want us walking you down the aisle with our army of flower girls and ring bearers?"
Mia laughed. "Only if you plan on keeping them from sprinting into the waves."
Jessie grinned. "Can't promise that. But we'll try."
Max looked over just then, and his smile deepened. His eyes softened as they landed on his wife and daughter. He crossed the garden, kissed Mia on the cheek, and lifted Rowan from her arms.
"You ready for one more night as my fiancée?" he teased.
Mia smirked. "Barely. I'm already dreaming of being your wife—again."
Dinner was served as the sun finally sank into the sea. Candlelight flickered across familiar faces—parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, lifelong friends who had flown in just to be part of this moment.
When the plates had been cleared and glasses refilled, Frank stood at the head of the table. He tapped his fork against his glass, and the garden fell quiet."I won't pretend I'm good at speeches," he began, his voice gravelly but warm. "But I want to say something as a father, and as a man who's watched his son become the kind of husband and father I admire."
He paused, eyes meeting Max's. "You chose a woman who brings out the best in you, Max. And Mia, thank you. For loving him the way you do. For giving us Rowan. For joining this family and making it stronger."
Mia's eyes welled with tears, and Max reached for her hand under the table.
Charlotte followed with a toast of her own, eloquent and full of emotion. Then Jeremy stood up with a lopsided grin. "As best man, I must embarrass Max at least once before the wedding. But since he's holding a baby, I'll keep it light…"
Laughter filled the garden. Stories were told, wine was poured, and as the night deepened, music played softly while the stars emerged, one by one, overhead.
Later, when most of the guests had left and only family remained, Max pulled Mia into the center of the grass beneath the string lights.
"Dance with me," he whispered.
She slipped into his arms without a word. Barefoot and swaying, they moved slowly to a soft melody playing on Jeremy's speaker. The garden faded, the voices dimmed, and it was just the two of them in that moment—and the life they'd built together.
Tomorrow, they would say I do all over again.
But tonight?
Tonight was theirs.
When Mia stepped inside, the house was still, and the soft click of the door echoed louder than she expected in the warm California evening. Cradled in her arms, Rowan stirred slightly, her tiny fingers curling around Mia's necklace as if anchoring herself to her mother.
Max had stayed at Jeremy's house tonight—an unspoken agreement between them after the whirlwind of the past months. They'd done so many things backward: baby before wedding, moving before settling, life speeding ahead before they'd caught their breath. Tonight, they chose space, not distance—time to soak in what was next without the rush.
Mia padded through the living room, the familiar creak of the hardwood beneath her feet grounding her. She switched on a few soft lamps, bathing the space in a gentle glow that reminded her of quiet evenings back in Oklahoma, before the noise of football season and city lights had taken over.
Rowan yawned, eyes fluttering as Mia settled into the rocking chair by the window—the ocean breeze filtered through the open sliding door, carrying the faint scent of salt and jasmine.
"Just you and me tonight, baby girl," Mia whispered, brushing a hand through Rowan's soft hair. "It's okay. We're okay."
Her daughter's breathing evened out, slow and steady against Mia's chest. For a moment, everything paused—the past, the future, the worry, and the joy, just a mother and her child, wrapped in quiet love.
Mia leaned her head back against the chair, eyes closing briefly. The weight of everything was still there, but so was a deep, growing peace.
They had a wedding to celebrate, a family to build, and a life to live—one imperfect, beautiful step at a time.
And tonight, Mia let herself be exactly where she was in the stillness.
The quiet was different here—Jeremy's house wasn't their home, but tonight it felt like a refuge. The familiar creak of floorboards, the faint hum of the city just beyond the windows, and the soft glow of the porch light felt strangely comforting.
Max sank into the worn leather chair by the window, a mug of warm coffee in his hands, but his mind wasn't on the drink. It was on Mia. On Rowan. On the way, they had been navigating this life together—fast, messy, beautiful, and a little scary.
He pulled his phone out and stared at the screen momentarily—there were no new messages, just the steady quiet between them, a silence that spoke volumes.
They decided to spend the night apart—not because of the distance in their hearts, but because sometimes love needs space to breathe.
Max thought back to last night—how Mia looked radiant and firm in that dress. The way Rowan's little fingers had wrapped around his pinky. Moments he'd carry with him forever.
He missed them both fiercely.
But he also understood the importance of this night.
I dream of giving Mia the room to feel whole on her terms, to balance being a wife, a mother, and herself.
Max took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs.
Tomorrow was a big day—a day for promises and new beginnings.
For now, he would rest.
Hold onto the memories.
And prepare to meet the morning with open arms and an open heart, ready to step back into the life they were building together.
The quiet was different here—Jeremy's house wasn't their home, but tonight it felt like a refuge. The familiar creak of floorboards, the faint hum of the city just beyond the windows, and the soft glow of the porch light felt strangely comforting.
Max sank into the worn leather chair by the window, reaching for the mug of coffee Jeremy had handed him earlier. He winced slightly, not a coffee drinker, but didn't want to offend his brother.
Jeremy chuckled from the kitchen. "Dude, you don't have to pretend. I know you hate coffee."
Max smirked, setting the mug aside. "Thought I'd humor you."
Jeremy settled into the chair across from him, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, man… about Mia. I owe you an apology."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"When I found out you two were together, I lost it. I introduced you two, not because I didn't think she was great. Mia's been my best friend since forever. But it just threw me. It felt like you were rushing and didn't respect what she deserved. I was protective, maybe overprotective."
Max nodded slowly. "I get it. She's my whole world, Jeremy. I never wanted to hurt her or rush her. I know we did some things backwards. But she's my partner. My family."
Jeremy's face softened. "I see that now. And I'm sorry for the way I reacted. You love her. You're good for her. I want you both to be happy and be there for you, both of you."
Max smiled, the weight lifting off his chest a little. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the night settling around them.
Max glanced at his phone, thinking of Mia and their daughter, Rowan, waiting at home.
"Honestly," Jeremy said, breaking the quiet, "you're lucky. Mia's one of a kind. You don't let her go."
Max nodded. "I never will."
Jeremy grinned. "Good. Because she's stuck with us now, and so are you."
They laughed, the tension finally broken.
Max took a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs.
Tomorrow was a big day—a day for promises and new beginnings.
For now, he would rest.
Hold onto the memories.
And prepare to meet the morning with open arms and an open heart, ready to step back into the life they were building together.
The Malibu sun filtered softly through the large windows as the house buzzed with a joyful kind of chaos.
Mia stood in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips, trying not to smile as boxes of flowers, decorations, and last-minute orders spilled into every corner. The event coordinator, Carte, was darting around with a clipboard, directing the crew to set up the altar and stringing delicate fairy lights around the backyard palms.
"Okay, everyone, final touches on the floral arch before we start with the seating!" Carter called out, voice carrying over the flurry of activity.
In the main suite, the air was thick with the scent of lavender and hairspray. Mia's hair and makeup team were working in perfect synch: brushes swirling, fingers pinning, and a gentle hum of quiet conversation blending with soft music.
Heather and April flitted about the room, adjusting sleeves, smoothing out skirts, and calming the nerves of the younger flower girls and ring bearers who occasionally burst through the door with wide eyes and nervous giggles.
Charolette, radiantly wearing a soft peach dress, moved from room to room, ensuring everyone had water and snacks and that Rowan was happy and fed.
Ashley sat beside Mia, her best friend and now Maid of Honor, reviewing a small checklist of last-minute details.
"Everything's coming together," Ashley smiled, squeezing Mia's hand. "You're going to be stunning."
Mia's nerves fluttered. "I still can't believe today's the day."
Ashley grinned. "It's finally here. And with Mark walking you down the aisle and Jessie officiating? Perfection."
Mia nodded, feeling the weight and warmth of family all around her.
Jessie, Mia's older brother and a retired Navy admiral, had been honored to officiate the ceremony. His calm, steady presence was a grounding force for everyone. He'd married many couples, including several with a military connection.
Mark, her other older brother and April's husband, was pacing nearby, his face a mix of excitement and nerves. Mia had always looked up to him, and having him walk her down the aisle felt like coming full circle.
Meanwhile, Heather, April, and Ashley had organized childcare for their combined seven kids, turning a side room into a bustling playground filled with crafts, snacks, and endless laughter.
Mia took a deep breath, watching the sun pour in, feeling overwhelmed but deeply grateful.
In just a few hours, this beautiful, imperfect, perfectly theirs day would unfold.
She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
Ready.