Hate To Miss You (2) | 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙷𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚜 ❈

Twenty Three

"Imogen!" I scream as she jumps from bed to bed in the small hotel room for the millionth time. Even after I'd asked her not to. When I thought the newborn stage was hard, it had nothing on my two year old. She was a chaotic little terror, born the day before Jack's birthday—and I was fully unprepared for how much of a little shit she was going to be. Not to mention spoiled, by Jack, and she knew it. "Imogen, stop. Now."

Being a mom was hard, really hard, especially when my other half spent half the year playing for the NHL, but we made it work, and we were still just as in love as the first day we'd met.

The little girl ran up to me, clutching as my arm and staring at the two of us in the mirror. She was wearing a white gown that was covered in lace with pearl detailing on the front of the chest. It was satin, ankle length and just offered enough space to show her tiny white ballet slippers that she'd begged me to wear—her favourite shoes at the moment, since she's started ballet lessons.

"Pretty mommy," she mumbled, sucking on her thumb,  which she'd started to enjoy more than her dummy. "A princess."

"Mommy is a princess?" I asked, looking down at her as I stroked her unruly brown hair to the side. She'd definitely gotten Jack's hair, and Jack's eyes. I'd be forever grateful. She nodded up at me, shying away by hiding her face between the silk of my own gown.

White, with a train long enough that I'd definitely trip over, a timeless classic bridal gown that I'd fallen in love with the moment I laid eyes on it.

Stella slammed the door open, stomping through the room with Faye and Izzy, my bridesmaids. She was holding a massive bouquet of flowers, my flowers, and a veil as tossed over her shoulder.

"Who knew this maid of honour business would be so hectic?" She breathed, placing the flowers down on the bed and near running over to meet me at the mirror. "Your veil, bride to be. We went and saw Jack and the boys, he looks handsome."

I turn to her, smiling so bright I think I might cry. "I can't wait."

"I think he's about to poop himself though," Izzy teases, flopping on the bed, Imogen running to jump on her. I sigh, knowing that I'm never going to be able to tame the daughter of a boy whose nickname is Rowdy. "He looked genuinely panicked."

"In a good way!" Faye offers, eyes wide. "He's nervous in a good way. Apparently he texted Nico that he couldn't wait to marry you."

I still couldn't believe she and Nico were together, engaged, actually. It felt like everyone around us was settling down. I turned to Stella, looking down at the engagement ring on her finger. Quinn's ring. We were all settling down.

"I'm just fucking glad I left Michael while I got the chance," Izzy sighed, tickling Imogen. "There's the hottest groomsmen in that room that I've got my eye on."

The only single groomsmen were Luke and Trevor, and we all know Izzy didn't have a thing for Luke Hughes.

We all gave her a look. "Trevor?"

"Wait, that's Trevor?" She spat, genuinely surprised. "How did I not know he was this hot?"

"Because you've always been obsessed with Mikey," Stella offered with a shrug. She turned back to me. "Also, language. Imogen is here."

A veil is placed in my hair, which had since been cut to my shoulders and was hanging down in loose curls. I sent a shy smile to Stella. She knocked my shoulder right back.

"You ready?" She asks, smiling.

"I think so," I tell her, my voice a whisper. "I can't believe this is happening."