Aisle

The morning of the wedding dawned clear and warm, the desert air carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and motor oil. I stood just out of sight near the shop, heart beating steadily rather than racing. Mia fussed with the simple white dress one last time, adjusting the leather accents and making sure my property vest sat perfectly over it. My mom hovered nearby, her eyes soft and a little uncertain, but present. “You really look beautiful, Lena,” she said quietly, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair. “He’s a good man. The kind who looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.” I squeezed her hand. “He is. And I’m ready.” Rogue appeared at the edge of the gathering, offering his arm with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Ready, wrench girl? The big man’s been pacing like a cag