The sun is a kiss on my shoulders from the moment I step outside. The breeze tugs at the pins in my hair, my dress. My friends and family are seated in three rows. Our officiant is serene up front. But my eyes are locked on the man next to the altar. Timothy. The boy I fell for is a man. One who fills out his tailored tuxedo to perfection, his tattooed hands flexing at his sides as he spots me. His expression transforms from anticipation to adoration and disbelief. Memories flood me. The first time I saw Timothy, the boy with the blue hair and enough talent to steal...