“Everything’s perfect, baby girl,” he’d said, kissing my forehead. “Today’s the best day of my life.”
But two hours before the ceremony, Dad disappeared. His truck was gone. His phone went straight to voicemail. I stood in my wedding dress, watching the clock, my heart breaking with every minute that passed.
But I knew. Deep down, I knew. Mom had been right all along. Bikers were unreliable. Selfish. They’d choose the road over anything.
Dad had chosen the road over me.
When the ceremony time came and went, I made the hardest decision of my life. Uncle Bear, Dad’s best friend and road captain of the Iron Guardians, offered to walk me down the aisle instead. I said yes, but I was crying so hard I could barely see.
As we walked toward Danny, I kept scanning the backyard, hoping to see Dad’s truck pull up. Hoping to see him running toward me with some explanation. But he never came.
I got married without my father. The man who’d been there for everything that mattered in my life wasn’t there for the most important day.
After the ceremony, after I’d somehow made it through my vows while crying, Uncle Bear pulled me aside. His face was wet with tears, and this 68-year-old man who’d survived two tours in Vietnam could barely speak.
“Olivia, baby, I need to tell you something about your dad.”
“I don’t want to hear excuses—”
