Isabella Milena de Oliveria (left)  & Rachel Bomar (Justin's cousin)

Lynn Harless & Justin Timberlake

Mariana de Oliveria & Isabella

Trace Ayala

Ethan Potter

Jessica Biel

When I was seven I used to attach my Momma’s white linen table cloth to my head, grab my best friend Justin’s arm, and march down the sidewalk as though we were getting married. It was every little girl’s favorite game, dreaming of that one special day when she was older, with that perfect man by her side, in the most perfect white dress she could ever imagine, saying those romantic words that’d forever connect you to one another. Okay, maybe when you were that age it was more about the perfect dress and the pretty veil, maybe even giving the perfect man a bit of a smooch. And at eight, there was no more perfect man than my best friend Justin. 

To be honest, it’s hard for me to stand here now, at twenty-five years old, and stomach the fact that in just a few hours, he’ll be that perfect man to someone else. 

“Isabella Milena de Oliveria,” my mother’s voice pierced through my thoughts loudly. “What are you doing filha?” she questioned me, using the Portuguese word for ‘daughter’. My Momma has seriously forgotten that she’s been in the United States longer than I have been alive. While I get that she wants to keep her Brazilian roots close to her heart and all that mumbo jumbo, seriously Ma, you live in Tennessee. 

“Momma, please stop using my full name like that. You know I hate it,” I complained lightly. 

She scoffed, “That was the name you were given at birth my dear, so I see no issue in using it. That big city of yours has given you such an attitude.” That big city she’s referring to is New York City, where I’m a writer for New York Magazine. “Now I’ll ask again, what on earth are you doing? I thought Justin asked you to stop over at his house before the ceremony.” We were staying with me and Justin’s other best friend Trace for the few days we were in town for Justin’s nuptials. 

“He did,” I responded simply. 

“So why aren’t you going luoco?” she asked. There she goes again, calling me 'crazy'. I felt her eye me, taking in the uneasy look on my face, and she softened, “You okay sweetheart?” There, English, that’s better Ma. 

“Yeah I’m fine Ma, why wouldn’t I be?” I shook off the hand she’d placed comfortingly on my arm. 

She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t respond. 

“I guess I’m going. I’ll see you there?” I questioned, grabbing my bag and heading towards the front door. “Of course querido,” she responded, calling me ‘darling’. So much for English. 

I might want to add that the reason I’m so sour about my best friends impending marriage is because I’m in love with him. And up until just recently, I was pretty sure he was in love with me too. You see, Justin’s kind of a big deal. He’s got it all: the fame, the fortune, and the world famous girlfriend to match. Scratch that, fiancée. I’m a much lesser deal, just a successful writer for a widely popular magazine. I have none of the fame, not nearly that kind of fortune, but I do well for myself. I’ve even got a pretty successful and handsome boyfriend of my own. Scratch that, ex-boyfriend. I suppose I should start at the beginning. 

Maybe it was all just bad timing. I’d finally landed my dream job at New York Magazine, and Justin was in the prime of his music career. It wasn’t until he’d met Jessica and I was with Ethan that we both realized how attracted we were to each other. I mean honestly, at that point we’d been inseparable for all of our twenty-three and half years, and you don’t think we could’ve seen it a little bit earlier? So here we are, both in budding relationships and in the prime of our careers, and we can’t keep our hands off each other. We never talked about it, what we were doing, but soon it was more than just the physical attraction. The chemistry had obviously always been there, as well the affection and likeness of one another since we were best friends, but soon we started treading in seriously dangerous waters. We began sleeping over every chance we could, sneaking out of town together for romantic weekends, that sort of thing. That is, until one Sunday evening I returned home to find Ethan waiting for me, all of the things he’d kept at my apartment neatly packed into a suitcase. Seems that we hadn’t been as careful as we’d thought, and he’d seen us together on one of our weekend excursions. I honestly cared for Ethan—he was a good man and he treated me well. I was truly upset that he’d found out the way he had, and even more upset that I’d hurt him. At this point I’d been with Ethan for almost two years, and Justin and I had been sneaking around for about a year and a half, give or take. Ethan’s finding out about us popped our little bubble. It was no longer just the two of us, but rather someone else was in on the secret. We became distant following Ethan’s departure, and I think in a way it was both a combination of me pushing him away, and Jessica pulling him in. She wanted to get married and be that perfect trend-setting, jet-setting Hollywood family. The day I found out they were engaged, just two and half months after Ethan had found out about us, I stopped returning his phone calls entirely, his texts went unanswered, and I couldn’t even bring myself utter his name anymore. I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone; not my Momma, not Trace, nobody. They were getting married quickly—their engagement had lasted a mere two weeks, and I had an idea why. If I had to guess, Jessica had an inkling that something was going on, and felt the need to secure her man while she had the chance. I heard through Trace that my name wasn’t even on their guest list originally, but Justin had quickly righted that. Not that I even wanted to be there.

Nevertheless, here I am, on the day of their wedding, dressed to the nines and on my way to see Justin before he heads to the ceremony. I couldn’t believe he was going through with this. It made me angry, bitter, confused, and most of all, it made my insides ache. If it weren’t for Trace coming to New York and nearly dragging me on the next flight to Los Angeles, I wouldn’t be here today. Yeah, that’s right, Los Angeles. Justin should not be getting married in California on the beach. He should be getting married in our church back home in Tennessee, the same church both our grandparents had been married in. But Jessica had no interest in the simple, romantic, country wedding that Justin always told me he wanted. Wrong location, but that makes sense, because after all, she is the wrong bride. 

Entering the security code on the keypad, I wait a moment for the gates to open before I pull Trace’s BMW into Justin’s driveway, putting the car into park and resting my head on the steering wheel. I really can’t even believe it’s gotten this far. He has to know this is a mistake, right? I take a deep breath, letting it exhale in a large sigh as I grab my purse, stepping onto the pavement in my stilettos. I’d give anything to be eight again, back home in Shelby Forest, throwing rocks at one another in the gravel drive, Justin’s dad hollering at us from the porch to leave the em' alone.

Making my way towards the front entrance of his gigantic house, I debate knocking, but instead push the large door open. There are people bustling around, and I recognize few of them. 

“Bella!” Justin’s cousin Rachel called to me as she appeared in the hallway, her long dark hair billowing behind her as she made her way towards me. “You look stunning as usual. How are you doing?” she asked, the last part a bit hesitantly. She reached out and hugged me warmly, and for a moment I allowed myself to revel in the feel of a familiar embrace. 

“I’m alright,” I shrugged, not wanting to say too much. I’m afraid I may break down like a little baby, and people will end up thinking I’m some sort of lunatic. 

“You know, he’s been asking for you all day. Is Bells here yet Rach? Trace said she’s going to be driving his car Rach. Make sure the front doors unlocked Rach. I’m glad you’re finally here. It means he’ll shut up.” 

I smile wearily at her, nodding slightly, "Where is he?” 

She points up the staircase, “You want me to have him come down, or you want to go up?” she asks softly, rubbing my arm comfortingly. Judging by the tone of her voice and her body language, she must know something, or I truly do look like the train wreck I feel. 

“I’ll go up.” 

“Okay,” she smiled encouragingly. 

As I ascended the staircase that I’d taken millions of times before, I felt my stomach flip flop. Everything was familiar, nothing had physically changed, yet it all still seemed so far away. Slowly making my way down the hallway I stopped as I reached the door to his bedroom, which was left cracked open. Knocking quietly I hesitantly take a step into the room, and see him sitting at the foot of his bed, fumbling with his cufflinks. He looks up at the sound I make, and if I were to speak at that moment, it’d come out in a jumbled mess of sobs. 

“Bells,” I hear him greet me, and I watch him stand from the bed and inch his way over. 

And here we stand, after nearly three months of not speaking, of not seeing one another.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come,” he says, a half smile on his face as he takes in my appearance. 

Just hearing his voice is making me want to cry and I look away, “I won’t lie and say of course I’d be here. Because honestly, if Trace hadn’t forced me to, we’d still be on opposite sides of the country.” 

I heard him sigh loudly, and turned my head to see him rubbing his cropped hair, “Well in any case, I’m glad you’re here.” 

All I do is nod in response and an uncomfortable silence engulfed us. It was never like this, and it’s killing me. “Trace told me you wanted to see me before you head over, so here I am. What can I do you for?” I asked, my southern accent thick for a slight moment. I reach up and tuck a piece of my long hair behind my ear. 

“You look really thin; have you lost weight?” he asked, surveying my body. “I doubt you called me here to discuss my eating habits Justin. What do you need?” I managed to get out firmly enough. 

“Bells, I tried calling you over and over; I text you constantly. I wanted to be the one to tell you.” 

I rolled my eyes, my head giving a slight shake, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

He stepped toward me, grabbing my hand, “It does matter Isabella.” He only ever used my full name when he meant business. “I needed to talk to you, to hear your voice. I had her pressuring me because she found out about us. You wouldn’t talk to me.”

“So you decide to marry her because she wants to lay her claim and I won’t talk to you? I was upset and confused because we’d hurt Ethan. We never once talked about what we were doing. We were reckless, and it got people hurt. Me included in the end.” 

“Bells, I didn’t do this to hurt you. Please don’t think that.”

“I guess I’m just having a hard time figuring out why you’re doing this. If you love her, then go for it. I’ll be there in the crowd just as you requested. But please don’t make a mistake and do this only because she wants you to. Once you say those vows, that's it. There's no turning back.” I swallow hard, trying to rid myself of the lump in my throat as I imagine watching him say his vows to someone who's not me.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his blue eyes capturing my stare. 

“This isn’t my decision Justin,” I tell him, tears brimming in my eyes. “I need to go before I get even more worked up.” Reaching up, I kiss him softly on the cheek, and as I pull away he wipes away one of my tears. “You know I love you Juj,” I whisper to him softly, using my nickname for him, before turning and exiting the room.

I’m in a daze as I walk down the stairway, the tears now falling freely down my tanned cheeks. Barely seeing Rachel as I reach the front door, I wave her off gently, desperately needing to get out of there. I finally reach the car, and start it quickly, anxious to be out of the confines of these gates. Despite my blurred vision, I make it out of the driveway, ignoring the fact that Rachel is standing on the front lawn back at the house, wondering what the hell just happened. All I can think about is how in a few hours, I’m going to have to sit there and watch the love of my life give himself to the wrong girl.

As I stand at the top of my staircase staring down at the front door Isabella has long since fled through, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be physically ill. How the hell did I end up here?

I watch as my cousin Rachel reenters the house after following Bella, and she looks up at me, shaking her head, “What the hell did you say to her J?”

I rest my elbows on the banister and let my head fall into my hands, tears flooding my eyes, “How did my life get so fucked up Rach?” I’m assuming she’s coming up the stairs because she knows it’s best not to discuss this with all these people around—people that include many members of Jessica’s family.

“What happened up here?” she asked again as she came to stand beside me, running a comforting hand over my back.

I shake my head, not knowing how to put it into words. After a long pause I mumble, “Am I crazy for marrying Jessica?”

Watching as she purses her lips and tries to group her thoughts, she finally says to me, “Justin, that’s not for me to say. This is your life.”

“That’s what Bells told me too.”

“What do you wish she told you?” she questioned carefully, quietly.

Looking up into Rachel’s blue eyes, I tell her softly, “I want her to tell me not to do it. I need to hear her say it Rach.”

“Well Justin, you have to face the facts that you’re probably not going to hear that out of her. It’s not that she doesn’t feel that way, because just by looking at her down there, it quite obvious that the girl is absolutely in love with you. She’s heartbroken right now. And if I know Bella at all, and you know I do, she doesn’t want to make this decision for you. She wants it to come from you.”

I hear someone clear their throat behind us, and I turn to see my mom and Trace, “Justin sweetheart, it’s time to get going.”

“If you’re going,” Trace added quietly, holding out his suit jacket for him.

Stepping forward and taking the jacket from his hand, I nod slowly, and head downstairs.

The entire time on the ride from my house to Paradise Cove in Malibu, my mind was racing. I was sure I was sweating profusely, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but trying to keep my lunch down. I’m sure I looked like foolish, with my eyes closed tightly—it was all I could do to get that image of the heartbroken look on Bella’s face out of my head.

“Justin honey, are you feeling all right? You’re sweating,” my Momma asked me, concern evident in her voice.

I will myself to nod slowly, plastering a smile on my face and I open my eyes and look at her. And there it is again. Another picture of her sears through my mind, this time of her smiling. I just barely hold it together as I take in the vision of her blue eyes, those adorable rosy pink cheeks, and that smile—the smile makes me weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Trace leaned towards me, “Justin, you don’t have to do this you know,” he spoke softly, but I’m sure I saw Jessica’s brother pop his head up in surprise.

I choose to ignore Trace, too uncomfortable right now to even process what he’s saying. I feel the car pull to a stop, and see the beach come into view.  I don’t know whether to be thankful that I’m about to get fresh air, or hyperventilate because I’m that much closer to actually going through with this. Jessica’s not a bad person, I try to reason with myself. She adores me, she’s successful, and she’s pretty. Yeah she can be a bit superficial sometimes, and maybe she can tend to have a snobby attitude, but that’s no reason that she wouldn’t make a good wife, right? I shake my head, once again too frustrated and confused to even think.

My mother tugs on my hand and I move to exit the limo. As I step out the breeze hits my face, and I feel just slightly relieved. I look down onto the beach and see all of the guests seated, and while the decorations are pretty, they’re far too modern and trendy really for my taste, but it was what Jessica wanted.

Before I know it I find myself arriving down below at the head of the altar, nearly all of the guests looking my way. The only one I want to see though, I can’t seem to find in the crowd. I spy her mother, and look to her left only to find an empty space, the hot pink ceremony program laying there occupy the seat. Hot pink—really Jess? That’s a little tacky. Feeling movement beside me, I watch Trace step away momentarily, moving towards the stairway that leads to the beach. Following his path I finally see her, stepping down the last step. I lose my breath for a moment as I stare at her from afar, her glittering mini dress fitting her in all the right places, tanned skin glowing in the sunlight. It may sound cliché, but at that moment, she reminded me of an angel. I see Trace reach her, greeting her with a long hug. He waved off the usher and began to guide her himself towards the seat next to her mother, whispering to her softly along the way. I’m glad she has him to lean on right now.

It wasn’t until she sat down and he returned to my side that she allowed herself to look up at me. I know this because I know her—she had been looking everywhere but at me. The minute her cerulean eyes locked with mine I began to feel the tightness in my chest. It only worsened as I heard the opening chords of that stupid song ‘Sail Away’ by Enya. Jessica was trying way too hard to be trendy; this song bordered on cheesy, and I’m pretty sure I just saw Bells hold back a snort. It’s good to see her get a laugh in.

I didn’t see any of the bridesmaids walk up the aisle; I spent the whole time with my gaze fixated on Bella’s face. I did however snap my gaze up the minute I heard the Enya stop and the music to ‘Sailing’ by Christopher Cross start—the same song NSYNC covered on our first album. I’m pretty sure I’m irritated now. It all seemed so forced, and as I thought before, incredibly cheesy.

As I saw Jess start her journey down the aisle, a giant smile on her face and clad in a white satin dress with some sort of draping going on in the front, I once again glanced towards Bells, who’d adverted her gaze towards the water. The tightness in my chest rose a few notches as Jessica got closer and closer. What the hell am I doing?

Trace gives me a supportive pat on the shoulder, and I turn to look at him for a moment. I’m sure he caught the terrified look on my face.

When I turn back around she’s there, standing up at the ‘altar’ with me, a big bouquet of colorful flowers in her hands. I watch her turn and give them to her maid of honor before facing me again, reaching for my hands. I’m sure she feels how clammy they are, and I wonder if she thinks it’s cute that I’m nervous. What she doesn’t know is that it’s taking all of my strength and willpower not to hightail it off of that beach. I avoid looking directly in her eyes as the preacher begins to speak, and I manage to tune out most of what he’s saying. Before I know it we’ve gotten down to the nitty-gritty of the ceremony, and until now I’ve still managed to avoid anyone’s direct gaze.

As the priest addresses the guests, “If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace,” I wait, daring myself to look out in Bella’s direction and I catch her already halfway to the stairs, her hand covering her face.  Swallowing hard, I know Jess has followed my gaze, seeing her figure disappear at the top of the stairs, her mother not far behind her.   Hearing no objection (because if the priest had any clue as to what was transpiring, he’d have just seen the objection clear as day), he continued, “Jessica, please repeat after me.” He spoke the vows and then waits for Jessica to reiterate them.  

She smiles at me widely, obviously pleased that I’m still standing up there, and repeats, “I, Jessica, take you Justin, to be my husband, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward for as long as we both shall live.”

Satisfied, the priest turns towards me, prompting me to repeat the same words.

Feeling the sweat beading on my forehead I release my hand from hers, swallowing hard as I reach up and wipe it off. Realizing I’ve probably been silent for a moment too long I open my mouth to speak, and take one last glance towards the stairs, “I—I,” I stutter, glancing behind me for a moment for some encouragement from Trace.

The look on Trace’s face is painful, and I turn back around without the motivation I’d sought.

“Justin,” I hear Jessica say to me, impatience lacing her voice, “it’s your turn.”

I close my eyes tightly and her face flashes through my mind again and it gives me the strength I need to say what I do next, “I can’t do this,” I spoke, softly but clearly.

Her mouth falls open and her grip on my hands tighten, “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Justin, but now is not the time.”

I pull my hands away from her, “Yes it is. I’m sorry Jess, I cannot go through with this.”

The anger in her eyes intensifies as I begin to walk away, “This is because of her, isn’t it?” she growled at me.

I turn around at the question, “Jessica, you knew this wasn’t right from the beginning, but you pushed and you pushed until I caved.”

She looked away from me for a moment, “Why don’t you want to marry me Justin? I want the truth.”

“It’s not your fault Jess,” I told her. “It just—,” I’m searching for the easiest way to say it.

“I’m not her,” she finished for me quietly.

Imagine losing your breath, the kind of dizzying suffocation that leaves you unable to think. That’s how I felt as I watched him stand up on that altar with another woman walking towards him, ready to pledge her life and her love. I managed to sit, biding my time, trying to avoid the gaze he’d set on me--the gaze that was supposed to be on her.

Amongst daydreams all over the world, there are no doubt those individuals that imagine rushing into a ceremony, leaping forward just as the preacher says, ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace’. And then, finally, declaring the unsaid words of love onto the object of their affection. 'Don’t do it, choose me instead. I love you.' That’s what I wanted to say, but I couldn’t do that to him. Hell, I couldn’t even do that to her. This was their wedding, and if he’d made it all the way up to that altar, and throughout the majority of the ceremony, maybe she is his meant to be.

So my next option was to run. If I lasted in that seat a minute longer, there’s a large chance that I’d faint, or even worse, throw up. So I excused myself as quietly as I could manage, and I ran.

And you want to know what? That sinking feeling didn’t disappear the further I got from that beach; it got worse. Knowing that he was back there, holding her hands in his, vowing to be with her for the rest of his life. That thought made me crack. Burst actually, and I burst into tears as I reached the car, fumbling with my tiny bag as I searched for Trace’s keys.

“Isabella, sweetheart!!” I heard my mother’s voice approaching me. “Honey, wait!!” she asked me as she reached the car.

“Momma, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just need to get as far from this place as I can.”

She looked at me, noticing the tears in my eyes and the heartbroken look on my face, and reached out, placing a soft kiss on my temple. Pulling back away she nodded, “You want me to come with you?”

“No, I think I just need to be alone.”

“I understand. Please be careful honey.”

“Course Momma,” I responded, getting in the car to leave. I paused to roll down the window, “I love you.”

Smiling slightly she nodded, “I love you too sweetie.”

As I pulled away from Paradise Cove, the tears really began to flow. I’d just watched the love of my life, my best friend in the world, promise himself to someone else. I had no idea what to do, how to escape from this empty feeling that had overcome me. So I did the only thing that I could bring myself to--I kept running. I went to Trace’s, managing to pack my things in record time, slipped into jeans and a tank top, and hit the road again. I found myself at the airport soon after, and before I knew it I’d succeeded in catching the next plane to New York. If having the distance of the entire country in between us couldn’t displace this feeling, I’m pretty sure nothing would.

“Jesus Trace,” I slammed my fist down onto the dresser of his guest bedroom, reaching up roughly and loosening the collar of my shirt. “Where the fuck did she go so quickly?”

“Dude,” he shook his head, “she’s probably already on a flight back to the City by now. You know Bella, she works fast.” He noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand and moved to go pick it up.

‘Trace,

Tell Justin I’m sorry for running away like that. I couldn’t watch him go through with it. I’m also sorry that I took your car to the airport. I’ll leave it in the parking garage for you to pick it up. I need to get back in the City if only for the distraction. Call me sometime soon. I love you T.

Bella’

As Trace read the note aloud, Justin grew more and more antsy each moment that passed,  “That’s where I need to be. I need to get on the next plane out of here Trace.”

I’d been home for almost two hours now, and they were the most miserable two hours of my life. I tried everything to get my mind off the memory of his face, of that unnerving gaze he’d fixed on me. I tried to read, but I couldn’t concentrate; I’d found myself stuck on the same page for nearly a half hour. TV was my next outlet, but I couldn’t bring myself from switching the channel to anything but Animal Planet or the Discovery Channel in fear of seeing some news or picture regarding the happy couple. I tried to eat something, but nausea kept me from actually taking a bite. Finally, I decided I’d give into my depression, draw a bubble bath, and cry my little heart out.

And as I sit here in my tub, drinking wine straight out of the bottle and tears streaming down my cheeks, I see a clear picture of my near future. Day in and day out of avoidance—avoiding Trace, avoiding my mom, Justin’s mom, Rachel, Justin. Avoiding reality in general. I’ll throw myself into my work. Yeah, that's what I'll do.

'Knock, knock.'

Who the hell is at my door at—wait, what time is it? I have absolutely no idea. Oh well, they’ll go away eventually.

‘Knock, knock.’

Is someone here? I swear I hear keys and the door knob jiggling. The only people that have keys are Justin, Ethan, and Trace. I should probably get those keys back from Ethan at some point. And now Justin too, I suppose. Oh wait, I forgot I gave my friend Dana keys to feed my cat while I’m away. Maybe if I don’t make any noise she won’t know I’m in here. I hear footsteps in the hallway after I hear the front door shut. Maybe she’s looking for ‘Cat’, my cat.

“Bells? Are you here?” I hear Justin’s voice as the footsteps come back down the hallway.

Am I delusional? Maybe I should’ve eaten something before I drank all this wine. I am officially crazy. A lunatic. But sure enough, I watch intently as the doorknob to the bathroom begins to turn, the door slowly pushed open to reveal him. I watch as he raises his eyebrows at the scene in front of him: the bubbles, the wine, my tearstained face.

“What are you doing here Juj?” I ask quietly, my voice cracking.

“I couldn’t do it,” he tells me simply with a slight shrug, his eyes cast downward.

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly going dry, “Why?” I question carefully, quietly. “You made it through almost the entire ceremony. When did you--?” I trail off.

His picks his eyes up and looks at me, “Right after you left. I just couldn’t go through with it. It wasn’t right.”

I nod slightly, not sure how to respond.

“I think I was waiting for you to put a stop to it,” he told me, honesty written all over his face.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me anymore. Not after Ethan finding out about us, and you avoiding me. It scared me. So I gave into her.”

“I missed you.”

I watched a small smile appear on his face, “I missed you too.”

“How the hell did we get here?” I sighed, running my hand through my damp hair. He moved closer to me, sitting on the edge of the tub and reaching into the water to grab my hand.

“We fell in love; and then we royally screwed it up,” he said, tracing his thumb over the wet skin on my hand.

“This could only happen to us,” I chuckled. “You know that right?”

“Hey, it wouldn’t be me and you if everything was simple. Our relationship has never ever been easy, but that’s what makes it so great.” He paused for a second. “You know, she was standing there today waiting for me to repeat those vows, and all I could think about was you. I was picturing my future, the good, the bad, and everything in between, and you want to know what I realized?”

“What’s that?”

“That you were there, in every thought, in every dream I had for myself. It wasn’t her. It was never her. It’s always been you.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat I choked back the sob.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry more Bells,” he said sadly.

I shook my head, “They’re good tears.”

“I’m in love with you Isabella Milena.”

I sucked in a breath, letting the words wash over me, and trying to freeze the moment in time. New tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I smiled softly, “Im in love with you too Justin Randall.”

He leaned down towards me, capturing my lips in a soft kiss, and after relishing in the feeling of his lips pressed against mine, I tugged him a bit closer to me, causing him to tumble into the tub and on top of me. “Oh Isabella,” he grinned devilishly, “you’re going to get it now.”

I smiled into the kiss, before pulling away slightly to press my nose against his, “I hope that’s a promise.”