LUKE RIVERA | THE CRAZY WEDDING GETAWAY

Sunshine Resort, 11:00AM

After a twelve-hour flight with Grayson somehow managing to irritate nearly everyone on the jet, all you wanted was to disappear somewhere quiet, sink into a lounge chair, and let the heat wash the exhaustion from your bones.

The adults-only pool sounded perfect.

Jasmine had apparently beaten you there somehow, which only made you more eager to get downstairs. If she was already lounging by the water, you knew there was probably a shaded chair with your name on it—and, more importantly, absolutely no Grayson.

Luke seemed equally ready to escape.

“Come on,” he murmured, reaching for your pool bag before you could even think about carrying it yourself.

He slung it casually over his shoulder, the contrast between his relaxed expression and your exhaustion almost irritating. You gave him a tired look as you followed him toward the elevators, but he only smiled.

By the time the elevator doors opened on the pool level, you had already begun mentally planning your afternoon: cold drink, warm sun, maybe a swim, and absolutely no conversations that required more than three words.

Then you stepped out.

The first thing you noticed was the faint sting on your neck where Luke had left a fresh hickey earlier. You instinctively lifted a hand toward it, brushing your fingertips over the mark before realizing you were being watched.

Stella and Daisy stood a few feet away near the entrance to the pool area, heads bent together.

They weren't casually gossiping.

They were whispering.

And judging by Stella's expression, whatever Daisy was saying was serious.

Luke noticed too.

His brows pulled together as his gaze moved between the sisters. He had gotten good at reading people over the years, and the look on Daisy's face was enough to tell him this wasn't going to be a harmless conversation.

He reached for your wrist, his fingers curling gently around it—not enough to restrain you, just enough to guide you along beside him. As the two of you approached, Daisy glanced up first.

Her eyes immediately dropped to Luke's hand around your wrist, then flicked toward the unmistakable mark on your neck.

A slow, knowing smile spread across her face.

You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Don't.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Daisy's smile only widened.

Stella, meanwhile, looked like she wanted the floor to open beneath her.

“I’m telling you as your sister,” Daisy continued, turning back toward Stella as though the two of you hadn't interrupted them, “he’s not doing it for you.”

Stella groaned quietly, rubbing her forehead.

“Yeah...” She glanced toward the pool before lowering her voice. “I should've broken up with him before we left. Fuck.”

Luke's expression changed immediately.

“What’s the issue now?” he interjected, stepping fully into their conversation.

Stella opened her mouth, clearly preparing to explain, but Daisy beat her to it.

“Perfect!”

Her entire face lit up as she looked between you and Luke.

You immediately regretted walking over.

Daisy pointed at Luke like she'd just discovered the missing piece to a complicated puzzle.

“Help me convince Stella to hook up with the lifeguard.”

Luke blinked.

You stared at her.

Stella's eyes widened.

“Daisy!”

“What?” Daisy asked innocently. “You know how terrible her boyfriend is. Don’t you two?”

There was a beat of silence.

Luke slowly looked at Stella.

Then at Daisy.

Then back at Stella.

“You want us to convince you to cheat on your boyfriend?”

“I don't want to cheat on him,” Stella protested, her cheeks flushing. “I want to break up with him.”

“Then break up with him,” you said simply.

Stella sighed.

“It’s not that easy.”

Daisy crossed her arms. “It absolutely is.”

“You say that because you've never had to do it.”

“I've broken up with three men.”

“Exactly. You collect breakups like souvenirs.”

Luke bit back a laugh.

Daisy shot him a warning look.

“You're supposed to be helping.”

“I haven't agreed to anything yet.”

“You will.”

Luke glanced at you, clearly looking for backup.

You shrugged.

“I think we're already involved.”

Daisy beamed.

Stella looked between the four of you, realizing she'd somehow gone from quietly venting to having an intervention in the middle of a luxury resort.

And judging by the way Daisy was smiling, she wasn't planning on letting her escape anytime soon.

“Okay,” Stella muttered. “But nobody is talking to the lifeguard.”

Daisy immediately pointed toward the pool.

“Too late.”

All three of you followed her gaze.

The lifeguard was sitting beneath the shade of his station, sunglasses on, one arm resting lazily across the back of his chair.

Luke looked at him.

Then at Stella.

Then at Daisy.

“Oh, this is going to be a long afternoon.”

Sunshine Nightclub, 12:15AM

The heavy bass of Spanish music vibrated through the nightclub, pulsing beneath your feet before you’d even made it past the entrance. Coloured lights swept across the crowded room, catching flashes of glitter, raised glasses, and bodies moving together beneath the haze of the smoke machines.

After spending most of the day recovering from the flight—and, somehow, napping through nearly all of it—you’d eventually decided that the wedding vacation deserved at least one proper night out.

By midnight, that decision had become questionable.

You were practically glued to Jasmine’s side, the two of you having lost count of how many shots you’d thrown back together. Every time you tried to stand still, the room seemed to sway with you, making Jasmine burst into another fit of drunken laughter.

Across the club, Luke had one arm firmly around Grayson, presumably to keep him from wandering off. Grayson, naturally, seemed more interested in flirting shamelessly with a woman he’d met approximately thirty seconds ago.

Nearby, Faye and Terrance were just as far gone, attempting to hold a conversation with a couple of locals despite the language barrier—and despite neither of them seeming capable of forming a coherent sentence anymore.

You barely had time to take another sip of your drink before Jasmine disappeared from your side.

You frowned, looking around for her.

Then you heard laughter above you.

Your head tilted back.

Somehow, with what could only be described as divine intervention and the assistance of her very patient guardian angel, Jasmine had managed to climb onto one of the tables in the middle of the club.

She stood there triumphantly, arms spread as the lights flashed over her.

Then she spotted you.

A grin stretched across her face as she pointed directly at you.

“Come up here and dance with me!”

Marketplace, 3:15 PM

As an excuse to escape the resort for a few hours, Summer and Bella had somehow managed to convince you and Luke to tag along to the local marketplace—the biggest market and festival of the summer.

The streets were packed.

Colourful stalls lined both sides of the road, their awnings fluttering in the warm breeze while vendors called out to passing crowds. The air was thick with the smell of grilled food, sweet pastries, and spices, mixed with the sound of music spilling from every direction. Strings of lights hung overhead, swaying lazily between buildings as people wandered from stall to stall.

You barely had time to take everything in before Summer spotted something that caught her attention.

“Oh my God—come on!”

She grabbed Bella's hand and immediately pulled her toward a growing crowd gathered around a small open space in the street. A lively Spanish song was playing, and several people had formed a loose circle, dancing without a care in the world.

Bella laughed as Summer dragged her into the crowd.

You smiled, watching the two of them disappear among the dancers.

Luke pulled out his phone.

“Hold on.”

Before you could ask what he was doing, he snapped a quick candid photo of Summer and Bella laughing and attempting to follow the dancers.

You glanced at the screen.

“They're going to kill you when they see that.”

“Probably.”

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, seemingly satisfied with himself.

Then, without warning, his hand settled against your side.

“Come here.”

You barely had time to react before he guided you away from the crowd, steering you toward the quieter edge of the street. He led you beneath the cover of a narrow alleyway, partially hidden from the noise and bustle of the festival.

The music was still audible from where you stood, but it had softened into a distant rhythm.

Luke turned toward you.

His hand remained resting against your side as he looked down at you.

You immediately noticed the expression on his face.

That smile.

Not his usual easy grin.

Not the charming one he used when he was trying to get away with something.

This one was slower.

Mischievous.

Almost wicked.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What?”

Luke's smile only deepened.

“Nothing.”

“You're definitely plotting something.”

“I would never.”

The look in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Miramar Hall, 4:00PM

Finally, the day you had spent months dreaming about was here.

Your wedding day.

Just before hair and makeup began, you’d slipped away for a few minutes to sneak a look at the venue. The moment you stepped inside, you stopped dead.

It was perfect.

Every little detail felt like something you’d once imagined in your head and somehow brought to life—the flowers, the soft lighting, the decorations, the view. It was everything you’d wanted and somehow even more beautiful than you’d pictured.

For the first time that morning, you let yourself breathe.

Today was supposed to be perfect.

After your hair and makeup were finished, your mother helped you into your outfit, carefully adjusting every detail until you were finally ready. She smiled at you with tears already threatening her eyes, and for a moment, everything felt exactly as it should.

Then it was time.

You made your way to the doors early, wanting a few quiet moments before the ceremony began.

All you needed was your father.

He was supposed to be there.

You waited.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

The closer it got to the ceremony, the tighter your chest became. You checked your phone. Nothing.

Your mother had given you the spare key card to his room earlier, just in case you needed him.

You stared at it in your palm.

Maybe he'd overslept.

Maybe he'd gotten caught up somewhere.

Maybe there was some perfectly reasonable explanation.

You clung to that possibility as you hurried toward his room.

The key card beeped.

The door opened.

And every hopeful thought in your head vanished.

You froze.

For a moment, you couldn't process what you were seeing.

Your father was on the bed with one of the resort workers.

Your stomach turned. You didn't scream. You didn't cry.

You simply stood there, utterly stunned, as if your mind had disconnected from your body.

Then anger hit.

You ripped the key card from the lock and threw it at him.

“Fuck you.”

Your voice cracked, but you didn't wait for an answer.

You turned and stormed away.

You couldn't let yourself fall apart.

Not today.

You hurried back toward the venue, blinking rapidly whenever your vision blurred. You refused to let the tears fall. You'd spent hours getting ready. You weren't going to let your father's selfishness ruin the one day that was supposed to belong to you and Luke.

By the time you reached the doors, you'd forced yourself to breathe.

You stood there alone.

The music had already begun.

Beyond those doors was Luke. Your future husband.

You could hear the faint murmur of guests settling into their seats, completely unaware of what had just happened.

Then someone stepped beside you.

You turned.

Michael Rivera. Luke's father.

He looked at you for a moment, and whatever he saw in your expression made his face soften.

“I came to check on you,” he said quietly. “Luke's already at the altar.”

His gaze briefly moved toward the empty space beside you.

He didn't need to ask. He understood.

“I’m sure I included your father on the guest list,” Michael continued, his voice gentle, “but if he isn't here…”

He paused.

Then he offered you his arm.

“…allow me to step up.”

Your eyes immediately filled with tears.

Michael gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“My daughter-in-law.”

You looked down at his arm before slowly slipping yours through it.

The music swelled.

The doors began to open.

And there he was.

Luke stood waiting at the altar, his eyes immediately finding yours.

For the first time since you'd opened that hotel-room door, the knot in your chest loosened.

You weren't walking down that aisle alone. You never had been.

Sunshine Resort, 12:30AM

The suite door clicked shut behind Luke as he carried you over the threshold, the lock automatically engaging with a soft beep.

For the first time all day, the noise disappeared.

The wedding had been almost everything you could have hoped for—the ceremony, the food, the laughter, the reunions with people you hadn't seen in years. Every moment had felt almost surreal.

And now, finally, you were alone.

Luke barely gave you time to catch your breath before the two of you were kissing again, all the anticipation you'd been holding onto throughout the day finally catching up with you.

Somehow, you barely made it out of the elevator with your clothes still properly in place.

By the time Luke guided you backward onto the bed, the cool sheets against your skin were enough to remind you just how little attention either of you had been paying to anything except each other.

Luke hovered above you, a familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as his hands traced slowly along your sides.

“Finally,” he murmured.

You smiled, reaching for him.

He leaned closer—

And then the speakers outside the suite suddenly crackled to life.

You both froze.

A familiar voice echoed through the hallway.

Luke's voice.

A recording.

“Honestly, I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love her.”

Your eyes widened.

Luke's expression went completely blank.

Another snippet played.

“She makes me insane, but I'd choose her every single time.”

You covered your mouth, trying desperately not to laugh.

Luke dropped his forehead against your shoulder.

“Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me.”

Outside, you could hear muffled laughter.

Apparently, the Rivera family had decided the wedding wasn't quite complete without one final prank.

The recording continued, broadcasting Luke's most embarrassingly sincere confessions to anyone within earshot.

You burst into laughter.

Luke lifted his head, staring at the ceiling in disbelief.

“I am going to kill every single person in this family.”

You laughed harder, pulling him closer.

He looked down at you.

For a moment, the embarrassment faded, replaced by that softer expression you'd seen earlier at the altar.

Another snippet of the recording echoed through the hallway.

Luke groaned.

“But I'm still killing them.”

You laughed as he buried his face against your neck, the romantic evening officially derailed by the people who apparently couldn't resist getting the last word.

Outside the door, someone started cheering.

Luke lifted his head.

“Okay. Now we should moan loud enough to scare them away."