“You know how much I love you, Grace?” I pinch her cheek and tap her nose.
“Probably not as much as I love you.” She brings me in for a careful hug, not wanting to wrinkle my dress. When she backs away there are tears in her eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Mia. Are you ready to wow everyone out there?”
I take another deep breath in. This time, once I close my eyes, I envision my handsome fiancé standing at the altar, waiting for me, and I feel the air fill my lungs and invigorate my being. He makes me happy. I make him happy. That’s all that matters. How could I have had any doubts? I am about to start the beginning of our happily ever after.
“I’m ready now.” I pick up my bouquet, and smooth down my dress.
Grace wipes her tears, checks herself in the mirror and unlocks the door.
Outside, my father stands strumming his fingers nervously against his tuxedoed thigh. When the door swings open, he looks at me and smiles. “You ready, kid?”
I exhale through my pink-glazed mouth. “I’m ready, Daddy. Are you?”
He walks closer to me, taking my hand in his. Is he having the same memory right now? Father daughter dance 1988. I was eight and he was so proud, escorting me to the gymnasium with a wrist corsage. Back then, as little as I was, I thought about my wedding day—Daddy giving me away. Today, I wish I was that little girl again. I’m sure he does too.
“What are you thinking about, Daddy?”
“Memories, sweet pea. And we have so many more to make. Save a dance for me later?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re the first man I’ve ever loved. Declan has some crazy big shoes to fill.”
Dad places the blusher over my face, an undeniable glisten of tears in his baby blue eyes. Grace returns with my mother and my bridal party lines up the way the wedding planner showed us at the rehearsal. Dad hooks his arm in mine and intertwines his fingers with mine.
“I may be giving you away, but I’m never letting go. I love you.” He clears his throat, and swallows back what has to be a lump.
My own lump has formed, making it hard to respond. “And I may grow up, but I’ll always be your little girl.”
Dad tightens his grip on my hand.
The procession starts and Dad and I inch a little closer to the doors at the back of the church. We stand together, waiting to be revealed to the crowd, to Declan, to my future.
The music changes from Canon in D to the Wedding March. “That’s our cue, sweet pea. You ready?”
The doors open, I catch a glimpse of Declan, Connor next to him, with his hands folded in front of him. Every single doubt is washed away the second I see him smile. He looks…breathtaking. A little nervous, but stunning all the same. He turns to Connor quickly and I can read his lips as he says, “my girl’s beautiful.”
Connor nods with wide eyes.
I make my way down the aisle, wanting nothing more than to bypass all the guests and skip down this white runner to kiss my almost husband. Crazy how I was contemplating divorce rates just a few moments ago. This is the happiest day of my life. The beginning of forever. It’s us against the world from here on out.
“I’m stuffed.” I stop myself from licking my lips like a dog that’s just devoured a juicy steak, and instead, I stand up to clear the table.
“Sit, Mia. I’ll take care of this. What kind of guy would I be to have his date clean up after dinner?” His hand covers mine now, keeping me in place. His eyes are locked on me, traveling to my lips.
I pray I don’t have anything on my face, like a big glob of hollandaise sauce. Guess not, because he leans closer and plants a soft kiss on my lips. A hint of butter and lemon lingers, reminding me to compliment the chef on a very tasty dinner.
“Noah, that was delicious. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal—well one that I haven’t prepared for myself—in years. You’re quite the chef.”
He smiles, but it’s shady. “Can I make a confession?”
I nod, curiously.
“I can’t even boil water. I had it catered from my favorite restaurant and my housekeeper came to warm it up while I was on my way to get you.” Noah winces, gritting a beautiful, white smile.
I ball up my napkin and throw it at him. “I knew you were too good to be true. But the gesture was sweet. You didn’t have to go through all the trouble for me. Pizza would’ve been fine.”
“Pizza? On our first date? No way. I’ve waited a long time for this. You deserve...better.”
Is that a subtle innuendo? Is he already trying to play himself up against Declan? I push the unsettling image of a love-triangle aside. I don’t need a reminder of the oddness of my situation. I want to treat this as I would any other first date, give it the regard it deserves. I focus on the part of the conversation that really grabbed my attention and made me giddy. “You’ve been waiting for this for a long time?”