“Do you want something more formal?” she asked with sudden concern. “A longer engagement?”
“Hell, no. Once you see what’s going on outside these walls, you won’t want anything to do with being a Sauveterre. No, I am perfectly happy to keep the wedding small and fast and do it while we have a semblance of privacy.”
* * *
For a ceremony thrown together at the last minute in the hospital chapel, it was touching and beautiful. Cinnia wore an ivory sundress altered by the twin designers into an elegant afternoon wedding creation. Her sister Priscilla brought all her modeling skills to bear as she did Cinnia’s makeup and hair. Nell handled the music, the grandmothers took care of the bouquet and flowers, Ramon stood up for Henri and Dorry witnessed for Cinnia.
The rings were tied to ribbons around their swaddled daughters, who were held tenderly by the aunties who had named them. Fortunately the aisle was short since Cinnia could only manage a few steps.
Her husband put a possessive, bolstering arm around her as she arrived next to him. He was rested, clean shaven, wore a tailored gray suit and had a fresh haircut. The pride and contentment in his expression as he gazed down on her made her tuck her face into his shoulder, too moved to withstand how much she loved him.
But as they spoke their vows and exchanged their rings, she knew he loved her just as much. In this, the most important way, they were equal.
EPILOGUE
Four years later...
CINNIA MADE THE mistake of thinking that if the girls weren’t with her, she could walk the few blocks from the clinic to her mother’s flat without being noticed.
It was a nice day. She was wearing a sun hat and sunglasses. She was in a good mood and wanted to feel the early summer sun beaming down on her. The city wasn’t yet overrun with tourists. Surely she could get away with it?
Not.
A Swedish couple noticed her and the selfies started. Her guards helped her navigate the handful of pedestrians who then accosted her. Everyone was very polite, but very quickly there were too many of them. She skipped with a sigh of relief into the quiet of the lobby, where she waved at the doorman and headed to the lift.
Henri was waiting for her when she entered. “I thought you’d be here ahead of me.”
“I walked. Big mistake. Now the paparazzi will be waiting when we leave. Sorry.”
“Such a scandal, to be caught meeting my wife for an afternoon tryst in her mother’s empty apartment,” he said, scooping her into his arms and kissing her with enough enthusiasm to make her heart race as quickly as it had the first time he’d kissed her. He drew back. “How was the appointment?”
“We can go.” She smiled with anticipation. They occasionally managed a weekend away, leaving the girls with family, but most of their alone time was stolen here in an afternoon. Which was lovely, but with another baby coming, they’d decided to book a week on an island so long as she was cleared to travel.
“And?” he prompted.
“One.” She set aside her sunglasses and handbag, then linked her arms around his neck. Her tennis bracelet slid down from her left wrist and her stylish and subtle, beautifully engraved, gold allergy bracelet skimmed down her right. It didn’t do a thing to protect her really, except to remind her daily to be very careful what she ate, but Henri liked her to wear it, so she did.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Never.” He closed one eye, considering. “But I think you will get an earful from other quarters.”
“I know, right?” She wrinkled her nose in amusement.
Their daughters had recently reached an age of enough understanding to ask where Mama’s twin was. Papa had a twin. They had a twin. Where was Mama’s twin?
Cinnia had explained about singles and twins. They had cousins who were singles, remember? Not everyone had a twin.
Colette, being her father’s daughter, had taken the explanation with equanimity. She had snuggled into Cinnia’s lap with a despondent little sigh and said, “That’s sad.” A hug and a kiss later, she’d been off to other more important things, like learning to write her name.
Rosy had been beside herself. That was not right, she insisted crossly. Mama must have a twin. Where was she? Go get her. She had cried on and off for days.
“Merci, chérie.”
“For?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“Our children. The joy you give me, every day.”
“We’re not even in bed yet.” She nudged her hips into his, feeling him harden against her as she gave him a smoky look. “Take me there. I’ll show you joy.”
“I love your libido when you’re pregnant. Do you know that? I love you.” He backed her toward the wall.