I stare at myself in the small round mirror, adjusting my bow tie for what feels like the hundredth time. My hands aren’t steady. Not even close. The suit fits perfectly - black, sharp, tailored within an inch of its life - but my pulse won’t slow down. My curls are behaving for once, but even that doesn’t calm me.

Max sits on the edge of the marble counter behind me, tying his shoes like he has all the time in the world. “You look fine,” he says, not even glancing up. “Actually, you look better than fine. Stop fussing.”

“I’m not fussing,” I lie. I tug at the bow tie again. The watch on my wrist feels heavier than usual, like it knows what today means.

He snorts. “Mate. You’ve adjusted that thing so much it’s basically part of your bloodstream now.”

I exhale and pace across the suite. The villa around us is ridiculous - high ceilings, soft gold light spilling through the tall windows, the faint sound of guests talking somewhere below in the garden. Everything smells like polished wood and fresh flowers. Somewhere outside, Lake Como is glittering under the afternoon sun, but I can’t even bring myself to look.

“They’re all down there already,” I mutter. “Everyone. Waiting.”

“That’s how weddings work,” Max says. “Relax.”

But it isn’t the guests I’m worried about.

“What if she gets cold feet?” The words rush out before I can stop them. “What if she decides she doesn’t want this? What if she realizes marrying me is insane? What if -”

Max groans into his hands. “Oh my god. We’ve been through this. You drive a F1 car for a living - that ship is sailed years ago. She loves you. She’s literally downstairs getting ready to marry you.”

“Yeah, but what if -”

“No.” He stands, walks over, and grips my shoulders. “Stop. You’re spiraling. Again.”

I try to breathe, but the tightness in my chest won’t let up. “Can you just - can you call Pietra? Please? I just need to know she’s okay.”

He stares at me like he’s considering shaking me. But he pulls his phone out anyway. “You’re unbelievable.”

A few minutes later, Pietra appears in the doorway, still in her robe, hair half done, eyes full of the kind of patience only she has with me. “Lando. What did Max drag me up here for?”

I run a hand through my curls. “Is she okay? Is she nervous? Is she having second thoughts?”

Pietra blinks once, then bursts out laughing. “Second thoughts? About you?” She steps closer, softening. “She’s glowing, Lan. Nervous, yes - but happy. Very happy. She hasn’t stopped smiling all morning.”

My throat loosens. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she says, squeezing my arm. “Now stop panicking and go get married.”

When she leaves again, Max shakes his head. “Happy now?”

“Maybe.” But the nerves stay buzzing under my skin.

Time speeds up and slows down all at once. Before I know it, we’re walking toward the garden. The aisle stretches out under an archway covered in flowers, the lake shimmering behind the rows of guests. I stand at the end, Max beside me, and tug at my bow tie one last time.

He swats my hand away. “Mate. Enough.”

The musicians begin tuning lightly, a soft hum drifting through the warm air. My heart is hammering. The villa’s grand double doors close..then reopen.

Music floods the garden.

And she appears.

Framed by the doorway, bathed in sunlight, in a dress that makes my breath disappear completely. The fabric flows around her like water, her hair softly falling around her face. She lifts her eyes - and she smiles.

Everything inside me goes quiet.

Max whispers, “You good?”

I can’t even answer. I’m rooted to the earth, struck straight through the chest. Every fear dissolves. Every doubt vanishes.

Because the moment the doors open, I know - she’s walking toward me. She chose me. And I’m about to marry the love of my life.

The day I’d waited for my whole life.