Oh. My. Gods. - Weebly

his tuxedo, but he also looks . . . nervous! I can’t believe it. I never
thought I would live to see Damian Petrolas nervous, but here he is.
Grinning like a fool, he looks at me. I smile softly and nod. He
has nothing to be nervous about. Mom’s as in love with him as he
is with her. He relaxes a little and I sigh with relief. We’d probably
have to do this whole ceremony again if he passes out.
I take my place next to Stella and ignore her fuming.
The quartet switches smoothly over to the wedding march.
Everyone in the packed church stands, turning to watch Mom walk
down the aisle.
She looks beautiful—a vision in ecru.
I’ve never seen her happier, either.
As she makes her step-stop way down the aisle, I think about
how much has changed in a few short months. And through all the
ups and downs, I think the ends definitely justify the means. There
isn’t a single thing I would go back and change.
Not that I could.
Nicole promises me that any attempts at time travel result in seri -
ous punishment—and the possible nullification of all existence.
But I’ve learned that I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.
Keeping my hand hidden behind my bouquet, I point a finger at
the ceiling. The air above the guests glows faintly. Dozens of white
rose petals float perfectly to the floor, showering Mom in a floral
snowfall. She looks up, letting some of the petals float over her
face. When she looks back down the aisle she gives me one of the
biggest tear-filled smiles I’ve ever seen.
She mouths, Thank you.
I just smile. I am definitely getting used to this goddess thing.
264