On the morning of my wedding, Owen's best friend walked out of my bridal suite carrying my gown and the diamond ring I had chosen with him. She said she was saving the day from a bride who couldn't handle a little pressure. I watched the empty garment hook swing and thought of the blind boxes I'd teased Owen about the night before. After years of pulling the right figure on the first try, I had started to believe I could recognize a bad bet before I made it. Owen had barely looked up from his phone when I asked whether he agreed. Now Tessa was standing between us, holding everything I needed for the ceremony, and Owen was asking me not to make a scene. He didn't know I had one thing she couldn't take. The question was whether I still wanted to use it.