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Chapter 23%
The morning of the wedding dawned brighter than I expected. Sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting the room gold, and the soft hum of voices downstairs carried upward.”
My heart should have been steady, certain–but it was racing, wild, as though it couldn’t quite believe what the day meant./
“Mommy, are you ready yet?” Gwen’s small voice came first, followed by the sound of the door bursting open. She came running in, her flower crown askew, her shoes untied, her dress wrinkled already from too much twirling. Her eyes sparkled as she rushed to me. “You look like a princess! Daddy Martin is going to cry when he sees you.”
I laughed softly, bending down to fix her crown. “Do you think so?”
“Yes!” She nodded vigorously, as if the matter was beyond debate. “Because you’re the most beautiful bride ever. And… and I get to be your flower girl!” She lifted her basket proudly, though half the petals had already scattered across the floor from her practice tosses.
Her joy was infectious, and for a moment I let it soothe me. Yet beneath the smiles, a shadow lingered. I had once thought I would never wear white again, never stand before an altar with my heart open.”
Loving Leandro had burned me so completely that I thought there was nothing left to give.
For so long, I had looked at Martin as the man who challenged me, irritated me, even saved me. But love? I never imaginedit would come from him.”
And yet, somewhere between his persistence and his gentleness, between the way he loved Gwen and the way he never asked me to give up myself again, I found myself here–ready to marry him.”
“Mommy?” Gwen tugged at my hand, breaking my thoughts. “Are you happy?“>
I looked at her little face, full of trust and innocence, and smiled through the sting in my eyes. “Yes, sweetheart. Happier than I ever thought I could be.”
She giggled, spinning once more before dashing off to find Martin. And as I stood alone in front of the mirror, bouquet trembling in my hands, I whispered to my reflection the truth I never thought I’d say again.”
“I’m ready.“>
The church bells rang, soft and solemn, their sound weaving into the melody of strings that filled the air. My hands trembled slightly as I clutched the bouquet of white lilies, my breath catching as I took the first step down the aisle.
I had imagined this moment once before, years ago, and told myself I would never imagine it again. After everything–betrayal, loss, grief–I thought weddings were for other women. Not for me. My heart had been buried with the promises Leandro broke, with the love that turned to ash.
But then… Martin.
And now here I was, walking toward him.§
His eyes never left mine as I moved forward. He wasn’t the type to hide emotions; I could see it all in his gaze–pride, devotion, a hint of disbelief, as if he too never thought this day would come.”
When I reached him, he took my hand, steadying me in ways I hadn’t known I needed. The priest’s voice blurred as vows were spoken, but I heard every word from Martin, deep and certain.
“I promise to never let you doubt your worth again. I promise to fight for you, even when you can’t fight for yourself. I promise to love you–and Gwen–with everything I am.”
Tears slipped from my eyes, not from sadness but from the sharp, overwhelming joy that felt almost foreign. My voice shook as I spoke my own vows, but I meant every word.
When the priest declared us husband and wife, and Martin leaned forward to kiss me, the world seemed to pause. His lips were soft, sure, and the sound of applause swelled around us. For the first time in forever, my heart felt whole.
The reception hall glowed with golden light, flowers draped across tables, the air filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Gwen twirled in her little dress, ribbons bouncing as she laughed, her joy brighter than the chandeliers above us.”
I bent down, smoothing her hair as she tugged at my gown. “Mama,” she whispered, her eyes wide, “are you happy now?”
I smiled, tears threatening again. “Yes, sweetheart. Happier than I thought I could ever be.“”
Her little hand reached for Martin across the table. “Then I’m happy too.“}
Martin chuckled, ruffling her hair before kissing her forehead. “And what about you, Gwen? Are you sure? Do you really want me as your daddy?“%
She tilted her head, thoughtful in that innocent way children have, then nodded firmly. “Yes. I miss Daddy Leandro sometimes,” she admitted softly, her voice fragile. My chest tightened, but I stayed still, letting her speak. “But he hurt Mama. And I don’t want Mama to cry anymore. So… I’ll go to Daddy Martin instead.”
The weight of her words cracked something inside me, a wound I hadn’t known was still bleeding. I pulled her close, pressing my lips against her hair. “Thank you, Gwen. That means everything.“”
Her arms wrapped around both Martin and me. small but strona, binding us together.
Her arms wrapped around both Martin and me, small but strong, binding us together.
Later that evening, Martin led me to the center of the room for our first dance. The music swelled, and he pulled me close, his hand firm on my back, guiding me as though he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.”
“You look like you still don’t believe this is real,” he murmured against my ear.
“Because part of me doesn’t,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I thought I used up all my chances at love.”
His forehead pressed to mine. “Emerald, you didn’t use them up. You were saving them–for me.””
I laughed through my tears, burying my face against his shoulder as he twirled me across the floor. Around us, friends and strangers clapped, the air filled with celebration, but for me, the world had shrunk down to this man, this dance, this love.
The night carried on with speeches and laughter. Gwen had taken it upon herself to “help” serve cake, smearing frosting on her cheeks, making the guests laugh. Every time I looked across the room, I saw Martin–talking with guests, checking on Gwen, sneaking glances at me as if reminding himself I was really his.”
By the time the music softened, Gwen had curled up against my side, fast asleep. I stroked her hair, my gaze meeting Martin’s across the table.
“This is everything I ever wanted,” I whispered, my heart full.”
His hand reached for mine beneath the table, squeezing gently. “And it’s only the beginning.“”
As the night ended, we walked out together–Martin carrying Gwen in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, her little hand still clutching mine. The stars spread wide above us, and for the first time in years, I wasn’t afraid of tomorrow. Because I wasn’t walking into it alone.
4
