She lifts a brow at me. “Chance?”

“We can pick one at random.” I scoot my chair closer to hers and take hold of her right hand with mine. I curl my fingers over hers, leaving only our index fingers pointing out.

“Close your eyes,” I say.

She hesitates for a moment and then does as I asked.

“Okay.” I press our fingers to the top of the list of the soft-rock page. I figure that’s better than heavy metal. Then, I shut my eyes. “You ready?” I ask her.

“Ready for what?”

“We’re gonna move our fingers down this list. You’re going to say stop when you’re ready. And whichever song we land on, we’re getting married to it, and that will be our song.”

“Okay.” She blows out a breath.

“On the count of three, we start moving. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“One. Two. Three.” I start moving our joined fingers down the list, waiting for Evie to say stop.

It feels like we’ve been going forever, and I’m starting to worry that we’re going to run off the page when Evie says, “Stop.”

I stop our fingers and open my eyes. Evie’s are already open, and she’s giggling.

I glance down at the song to see what we’ve picked.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“‘Livin’ on a Prayer?’ You have ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ as a wedding song?” I flick a look of disbelief to Trixie.

She gives me a confused one back. “Of course. ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ rocks. It’s one of the best love songs Bon Jovi ever wrote.”

Love song? I wouldn’t exactly call two people struggling to make ends meet a love song, but whatever.

I turn to Evie. “We can pick again.”

She brings her eyes to mine. There’s mirth and happiness in them. “No way.” She laughs. “That defeats the purpose of leaving it to chance. We picked it. So, ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ is the song we’re getting married to.”

I stare at her face, trying to determine if she’s actually being serious.

Yep, she looks pretty damn sure about it.

“‘Livin’ on a Prayer,’ it is,” I sigh.

“Excellent choice.” Trixie gleefully claps her hands together.

“I kind of like it,” Evie says to me. “It’s a cool song, and it’s different for a wedding song.”

“It’s definitely different.” I give her a look.

She shakes her head at me, her lips twitching. “I bet there aren’t many people who can say they got married to ‘Livin’ on a Prayer.’”

“There’s a reason for that, babe.”

She laughs again, louder this time, the sound filling the room. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But I don’t care. It’s ours, and we finally have our song.”

She looks so happy in this moment, and that makes me happy.

“Gosh, you kids are so cute together,” Trixie says, beaming at us. “Okay,” she says, looking back down at her papers. “The last thing we need to sort out before you two can get married is the matter of witnesses. I’m taking it you don’t have any with you?”

“No,” I answer.

“Well, you need two. I can be one for you and our impersonator, Nigel, can be the other. He’s actually a Jon Bon Jovi impersonator. He also does Axl Rose, Bret Michaels, and Billy Idol, too. But as you’ve picked a Bon Jovi song to get married to, it’d be awfully nice to have him dressed as Jon Bon Jovi for the ceremony.”

“Um, yeah. Awfully nice,” I deadpan.

Evie digs her fingers in my am. I flash her an innocent smile.

“And we won’t charge you extra for him to dress up as Jon Bon Jovi, as he’s already in costume from the wedding we just did, and you two are just the sweetest. You look so much in love. Reminds me of my Ike and me.”

“That’s really kind of you,” Evie says to her.

“I guess it was fate—you choosing a Bon Jovi song and him still being in costume and all.” Trixie smiles wide.

“Yep, total fate,” I say.

That earns me a pinch, a really hard pinch, on my arm from Evie. I flash her a look this time ’cause that fucker hurt.

“Well, I’ll just go tell Nigel that he’s needed, and I’ll make sure that Ike is all set up and ready for you.” Trixie gets up from her seat. “Be back in a few ticks.”

“You’re being a butthead,” Evie whispers as soon as the door is shut.

“Did you just seriously call me a butthead?” I laugh. “And I’m not being a butthead, babe.”

“You are. You’re being sarcastic and, quite frankly, snobby. I know this place is a little different, but we chose it. And Trixie is being really kind to us. So, stop being an ass, and just be nice.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I give her puppy-dog eyes. “I’m being an ass and a butthead and a snob. And I really fucking hate snobs. Forgive me, babe.” I brush my fingers over her cheek.

She lets out a soft sigh. “There’s nothing to forgive.” She leans close and gently kisses me.

“Right, kids, we’re ready for you!” The sound of Trixie’s clapping hands startles us both.

I glance from Trixie and back to Evie, my lips lifting into a smile. “You ready to get married?”

Her eyes shine with happiness, and it makes my heart feel like it’s going to explode.

“More than ready.”

I take her hand in mine, helping her to her feet, and then we follow Trixie to the chapel.

I thought I’d be nervous, walking to the chapel to get married, but I don’t feel nervous at all.

I just feel ready and happy, the happiest I’ve ever felt.

“Okay, so, Adam, you come up to the altar with me.” Trixie comes to a stop by a set of red double doors. “Evie, you wait here. When the music starts playing, you come through the door and make your way up the aisle as fast or as slow as you like. Okay?”

“Okay,” we both answer at the same time.

Trixie hands Evie her bouquet.

“See you at the altar, babe.” I wink at Evie.

I follow Trixie up the aisle to where our minister, Ike, is.

Apart from sporting a mullet and leather wristbands, Ike looks fairly normal—he’s wearing a black suit and tie. To be honest I was half-expecting him to be wearing leather pants and no shirt.

Ike introduces himself and then gives me a quick rundown on the proceedings. Then, I’m introduced to our other witness, Nigel, the Jon Bon Jovi impersonator. And he looks nothing like Jon Bon Jovi.

I’ve got to say that I never thought I’d be getting married with a Jon Bon Jovi impersonator standing beside me. But, honestly, I don’t care. All I care about is that Evie’s here, and she’s about to become mine for real.

“Ready?” Trixie ask me.

I press my hand to the ring box in my pocket. Then, I give her a nod.

She lifts a remote in her hand, and the humming sounds of the intro to “Livin’ on a Prayer” begins.

Evie appears and begins walking up the aisle.

She has never looked more beautiful to me. Seeing her like this, walking toward me, about to become my wife, literally takes my breath away. I know it sounds cliché, but I don’t care.

Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles.

And the world narrows down to the beautiful girl coming toward me. For some crazy reason, she sees something in me. She loves me and wants me forever.

And, God, do I want her.

I’ve never wanted anything more. And I know as long as I have Evie, my life will be as perfect as she is.

Adam kept everything, everything that was me…that was us.

Now, he’s caught me in here, like I’m some sneaky person, and he’s stormed off, angry. I feel like I’ve intruded in on his private thoughts, a secret I was never meant to see.

I only came in here because nostalgia pulled me here. I just wanted to remember for a while.

Then, I opened the door and saw everything. So many of my sketches that I gave to him are framed and hanging on the wall, including the first one I ever drew of him, which is hanging in the center.