Updated Feb 24, 2026 • ~7 min read
POV: Blair
One week before the wedding. Bachelor and bachelorette parties. Same night. Separate chaos. Blair was nervous.
“What if you do something stupid?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Bachelor party stupid.”
“I’m not getting a stripper—”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried you’ll get drunk and tell Nash you’re having cold feet.”
“I’m not having cold feet. Are you?”
“No. But pre-wedding panic is real.”
“Then we panic together. After the parties.”
Blair’s bachelorette was in Vancouver. Sienna planned it. Wine tour. Dinner. Dancing. Classy. Fun. Blair’s speed.
“No strippers,” Blair confirmed.
“No strippers,” Sienna promised. “Just wine and bad decisions.”
“That’s worse.”
“That’s better.”
Cal’s bachelor party was in Seattle. Nash planned it. Golf. Whiskey. Poker. Guy stuff. Classic.
“No strip clubs,” Cal confirmed.
“Dude, you’re no fun.”
“I’m getting married in a week. Blair would kill me.”
“Fair. Golf it is.”
The wine tour started innocently. Blair, Sienna, Amanda, and Cal’s sister Kelly. Four women. Five wineries. Recipe for disaster. By winery three, they were tipsy. By winery five, they were drunk. Blair was laughing at everything.
“Why is that sign so funny?”
“It says ‘Caution: Wet Floor.'”
“HILARIOUS.”
She was gone.
Dinner was a blur. Fancy restaurant. Too many courses. Blair ordered everything. “I want the salmon. And the steak. Both.”
“You can’t eat both—”
“Watch me.”
She ate one bite of each. Declared herself full. Wasted forty dollars. Sienna was dying laughing. “This is the best night ever.”
Meanwhile in Seattle, golf was going okay. Cal was terrible at golf. Always had been. Hockey player. Not golfer. Nash was destroying him.
“That’s seven strokes on one hole.”
“I know.”
“That’s worse than my grandma.”
“Your grandma doesn’t play golf.”
“Exactly.”
Whiskey after golf. Now we’re talking. Cal was better at drinking than golfing. They were at Nash’s place. Poker table set up. Six guys. Lots of whiskey. Bad poker. Cal was winning. Not because he was good. Because everyone else was drunk.
“How do you have four aces?” Nash slurred.
“I don’t. I have two pairs.”
“That’s basically four aces.”
“Not even close.”
Back in Vancouver, dancing. Blair insisted no club. They went to a club anyway. Sienna’s doing.
“We’re celebrating! You’re getting married!”
“I hate dancing—”
“Tonight you love it!”
Blair did not love it. But she was drunk enough to try. Badly. Very badly.
She called Cal at 1 AM. Very drunk.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too. You sound drunk.”
“I’m SO drunk. Sienna made me do shots.”
“How many shots?”
“…all of them.”
Cal was laughing. “Are you safe?”
“So safe. We’re dancing. I’m terrible at dancing.”
“I know. I’ve seen you dance.”
“RUDE.”
“How’s the bachelor party?” Blair asked.
“Good. We played golf. I sucked. Now we’re playing poker.”
“Are you winning?”
“By accident.”
“That’s my fiancé. Winning accidentally.”
“Damn right.”
Nash grabbed Cal’s phone. “BLAIR! Cal’s been talking about you all night!”
“He has?”
“Won’t shut up. ‘Blair would love this.’ ‘Blair would hate this.’ ‘I wish Blair was here.’ It’s adorable and annoying.”
Blair was grinning. “Put him back on.”
Cal retrieved his phone. “Ignore Nash.”
“Were you really talking about me?”
“Maybe.”
“I was talking about you too.”
“Good.”
They were both drunk. Confessing feelings like they weren’t getting married in a week.
“I can’t wait to marry you,” Blair said.
“Six more days.”
“Too long.”
“Way too long.”
“Let’s elope tonight.”
“Tempting. But your mom would actually kill us.”
“Worth it to marry you sooner.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Sienna stole Blair’s phone. “Okay lovebirds, we’re hanging up. See you at the wedding.”
“Wait—”
Click.
Blair pouted. “I wasn’t done talking to him.”
“You see him in two days. Survive.”
“Fine.”
At 2 AM, both parties were winding down. Blair’s group was back at Sienna’s place. Eating pizza. Sobering up.
“This was fun,” Blair admitted.
“Told you.”
“I needed this. Stress relief.”
“That’s what bachelorette parties are for. One last night of chaos before married life.”
“Married life will be chaotic too. Have you met Cal?”
“Fair point.”
Cal’s group was still at Nash’s. Poker abandoned. Just talking now.
“You ready for this?” Nash asked. “Marriage?”
“Yeah. I am. Weirdly ready.”
“Not scared?”
“Terrified. But good terrified.”
“That’s how you know it’s right.”
“Any advice?” Cal asked.
“From me? I’m single.”
“Exactly. Tell me what not to do.”
“Don’t take her for granted. Don’t stop trying. Don’t let hockey become more important than her.”
“I won’t.”
“Good. Because Blair’s the best thing that happened to you. Don’t screw it up.”
“I won’t.”
“Also, happy wife happy life. Just agree with everything she says.”
“That’s terrible advice.”
“It’s great advice. You’ll see.”
At 3 AM, Blair was texting Cal.
You awake?
Barely. You?
Can’t sleep. Too excited.
Same. Six more days.
I’m going to be your wife.
I’m going to be your husband.
Weird.
Good weird.
Best weird.
I’m glad we’re doing this.
Me too.
Even with all the planning stress and family drama?
Especially with that. Proves we can survive anything.
We can survive anything.
Together.
Always together.
Blair fell asleep happy. Drunk. Exhausted. Excited. Six more days. Then she’s married. To Cal Montgomery. Former patient. Current love of her life. Future husband. This was really happening.
Cal fell asleep too. Same thoughts. Six days. Then Blair’s his wife. Forever. Officially. He couldn’t wait.
Next morning, both woke up hungover. Texts flew.
Blair: I’m dying.
Cal: Same. Never drinking again.
Blair: Until the wedding.
Cal: Fair point.
Blair: Worth it though. Fun night.
Cal: Agreed. But I missed you.
Blair: Two more days until I see you.
Cal: Counting down.
Blair: Me too.
Sienna made breakfast. Greasy. Carb-heavy. Hangover food.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like death.”
“Same.”
“But good death. Happy death.”
“There’s no good death—”
“You know what I mean.”
Blair’s mom called. Checking in.
“How was the party?”
“Fun. Very fun.”
“You sound terrible.”
“I’m hungover.”
“Blair Elizabeth—”
“Mom, I’m thirty years old. I’m allowed to be hungover.”
Her mom sighed. “Fine. But hydrate. We have dress fitting in two days.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Cal was recovering similarly. Nash made him eggs.
“You’re a disaster.”
“I know.”
“Worth it?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Because you look awful.”
“Thanks.”
Two days later, Blair and Cal reunited. Final dress fitting. Final suit fitting. They weren’t supposed to see each other. Superstition. But they snuck away. Outside the bridal shop. Quick kiss.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I missed you.”
“It’s been four days.”
“Four days too long.”
“You ready?” Blair asked.
“For what?”
“Marriage. Forever. Me.”
“I’ve been ready since the day you told me to do ten more reps.”
“That’s so cheesy.”
“You love it.”
“I do.”
“Save that for the wedding.”
She laughed. “Four more days.”
“Four more days. Then you’re stuck with me.”
“Forever stuck.”
“Forever.”
They kissed again. Longer this time. Then separated. Back to their respective fittings. Final preparations.
Blair’s dress fit perfectly. No alterations needed.
“You’re stunning,” her mom said. Crying. Happy tears.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Cal’s a lucky man.”
“I’m pretty lucky too.”
Cal’s suit fit perfectly too. Navy. Classic. Handsome. Nash whistled.
“Blair’s going to lose it when she sees you.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You clean up nice, Montgomery.”
“I try.”
That night, four days until wedding, Blair and Cal FaceTimed.
“How was the fitting?” she asked.
“Good. You?”
“Perfect. I’m ready.”
“Me too.”
“Nervous?”
“A little. You?”
“Yeah. But good nervous.”
“Same.”
“I can’t wait to see you in your dress,” Cal said.
“You’re not supposed to think about that. Bad luck.”
“Since when do we care about luck? Our whole relationship has been chaos.”
“True. But let’s not jinx the wedding.”
“Fine. I won’t think about it. Even though I definitely am.”
“Good. Because I’m definitely thinking about you in your suit.”
They talked until midnight. About nothing. About everything. Four days until forever. They could hardly wait.
Blair went to bed excited. No more parties. No more distractions. Just final preparations. Then the wedding. Then marriage. Then forever. With Cal. Always with Cal. She’d never been more ready for anything.
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