I smooth my hands down my ivory wedding dress. It’s classy elegance and understated top is lined with
a simple sleeveless fitted bodice and tiny pearl detailing. It has a full wispy floating skirt, and layers and
layers of chiffon puffing out to a full-length cloud of loveliness. It’s a fairy-tale princess dress and
matches beautifully with the elegant engagement ring twinkling on my hand, sparkling in all its shining
glory.
I admire my flawless natural make-up in the mirror, touching up my nude lipstick. My tawny hair is wild
and curled in its loose romantic style, tiny tendrils hang around my face and I appraise my reflection
with pride.
I look beautiful! I feel beautiful and serene. There is no fear whatsoever.
I look like a woman hopelessly in love, about to marry the man of her dreams.
I am that woman.
I slide on my satin ivory stilettos that almost mirror the shoes I used to adore so much. It feels weird to
be back in heels after so long and I turn around, hearing movement from the room behind me, alerting
me to tropical blue
eyes catching mine in the reflection as I straighten up.
“Oh, my God, Ems … God, you look stunning,” Sarah holds back a tear, touching her eyes with a tissue
and waving her hands to save her mascara from running, as I watch
her in the mirror behind me. She’s wearing her fitted
aqua bridesmaid dress and her messy blonde short hair is pinned up in a loose half up style like mine
and I’m overcome with a huge surge of love. Her bright blue eyes are heavy with emotion as she’s
watches me intensely in a way that has my heart lifting with excitement.
“It’s happening, Sarah.” I smile widely, a tremor of passion rippling through me. My nerves are tingling,
my stomach is fluttering, and my knees are turning to mush. I spin around lifting my delicate veil and let
my eyes skim that flawless silhouette in the mirror, flat stomach once more and a body that looks like it
never changed. I’ hit with that familiar tug of emptiness at no longer feeling her life growing within me.
The vacuum of emptiness inside never leaves me, but I smile to myself, weakly, and push it down,
lifting my chin defiantly, looking like old PA Emma, yet so different in so many ways. This is my happy
day; no tears unless they are ones of joy. I remind myself that I’m not going to cloud this day with
running make-up and emotional breakdowns unless they’re related to taking my vows.
“Oh, my God, Emma.” Leila bursts into tears when she sees me, sliding into the room behind Sarah.
They only left me for a few minutes, so I could step into my dress, yet they’re acting like this is the first
time they’ve seen it too, even though they’re the ones who helped me choose it.
It took me endless shopping trips to find the perfect one and constant boring fittings with selfies that
Leila just had to litter over Instagram. I banned Jake from using any social media the entire time we
were planning the big day, for fear of trending posts giving away ideas of which shops I was heading
into and people snapping sneaky photos of me trying on gowns in shops. Leila saw them, on more than
one occasion and promptly chased them off, but still, pictures would still find themselves all over the
social media sites. The world still loves their Carrero hotty after all and his hashtag on anything
wedding related seemed to top the bill on a weekly basis.
“You’re ruining your make-up.” I chide Leila softly, but she shakes her head and smiles back through a
wave of tears. Her eyeliner is already making a quick exit down her face.
“Daniel likes me looking like a train wreck nowadays … Will just turn him on seeing me with mascara
down my chin yet again.” She sniffs, and Sarah starts fussing with the hankies, cleaning Leila’s face up
in a desperate attempt to salvage her perfected make-up. Leila is so hopelessly cute when she cries,
and I agree with her on the Daniel point. The boy clucks around her like a mother hen anytime she
burst into tears. Daniel is turning as hopeless as Jake nowadays and never far from his lady’s side;
gone is the Hunter of old who partied and messed around with women galore. Leila is his world.
“I think the fact that you’ve done nothing but cry non-stop since he got you pregnant means he has no
choice but to love that train wreck … Invest in waterproof mascara.” Sarah chides, and I watch as Leila
runs a hand over her bulging bump. I am hit with another hint of rising tears and a small tug of envy.
Her growing bump is twins, much to Daniel’s shock when they found out she was even carrying. That
day I really thought we needed an ambulance for him since he literally passed out in the doctor’s office.
I run my hand over my own flat stomach automatically with an internal sharp pain to my heart, the
familiar wave of emotion I get every time I realize there’s nothing there anymore. I was warned that it
would take a long time for the feeling of emptiness to go away, and maybe not until I try for another
child, but even the thought of having another baby brings fresh tears to my eyes. The hormones are
still messing with me even now. There is gut-wrenching heartache at the emptiness of my body, so I try
to push it aside mentally with a deep inhale, slowly letting it back out.
“Guess I’ll have to marry him now then, huh?” Leila
dabs her face with Sarah’s tissue and sniffs a little to reel in her tears. “He’s asked enough times and
I’m really only saying no because I’m such a fucking mess all the time. Why would he want this?” Leila
sighs back her tears again and tries to limit the damage to her face with a compact, squinting at it
disapprovingly then dabbing manically over the streaky areas in a bid to fix it. I predict it will happen
many more times today.
“You’re asking me?” I look at her with a knowing expression; one that says you do remember the crazy
mess I’ve been this past year?
My recovery from a head fracture and small brain bruise was a large ordeal and included a very long
and messy recovery. I had a lot of counseling to deal with my past as well as the emotional aftereffects
of what Vanquis did to me. Recovery involved rehabilitation to get past some of the brain damage I
incurred from the incident, such as impaired balance, bouts of severe low mood, and awful headaches
for months on end. My crying and psychotic behavior consumed me these last few months and really
tested everyone’s love around me. It has been a very trying period in my life and Jake has been my
absolute rock throughout, the perfect fiancée with the patience of a saint.
Now I’m throwing myself into my new path and studying to become a counselor for abused children
within Sylvana’s charity. I want to be a beacon of hope and a hand to guide children to a better life. I
want to do for the Sophies” of the world what Jake did for me. It was hard to study and go to classes,
still seeing my therapist weekly to keep on top of everything while aiming for a new future. Jake
supported me in everything and finally let some of his domineering side relax.
“Well, Leila, you’d better hurry up because my wedding is in a month and you’ll be the only single one
of our trio.” Sarah has given up on salvaging Leila’s make-up, and instead hands her a wet wipe. It’s a
safe bet to say Leila has looked better but it’s no surprise that her cute face can pull off the smudgy
look any day of the week.
I gaze at Sarah’s flawless happy face and smile at the radiance I see reflected at me. Marcus surprised
everyone by proposing to Sarah, rather publicly, at her birthday bash which Jake organized for me, as
a thank you to Sarah for being my friend. The proposal was beautiful, and I admit that Marcus really is
right for her. Sarah was bowled over, not only by my public appreciation of ‘the girl who loved me when
no one else did and persevered anyway’ but the sheer spontaneity of Marcus’s proposal. She didn’t
see it coming at all, none of us did, except maybe Jake. I’m sure Marcus had a few whispered
conversations with Jake to organize the whole thing.
“Okay!” Sarah turns to me and takes a deep breath. “Ready?” She holds out an arm to me, bossily,
being the only one who seems to be organizing things today and I tilt my head with a last final breath. I
don’t feel any of the nerves or inner doubts I’d been expecting to sweep over me when this moment
arrived. Instead I just feel impatient at knowing he’s out there waiting, picturing those devastating green
eyes smiling back at me and his unbelievably kissable mouth.
“Feels like I’ve been waiting for this for an eternity.” I smile and allow my best friends to guide me from
the room, one on each arm, out into the hallway, they pick up my dress to avoid catching it on the door.
We make our way down the hall and I’m met with the almost unemotional face of Giovanni Carrero. He
extends an arm to me with a smile and a nod, his eyes appraising my dress and I slide my own into his.
He smiles wider and brighter, inclining his head approvingly. This is about as far as the man ever gets
with any real show of emotion, but I get it. I know him better nowadays and I smile, sighing with
indulgence at the father-in-law who is so completely loveable. It has taken some time to figure out this
rogue enigma, but I’m sure I have some understanding of him now, after all we’re similar kinds of
people. The type to be more reserved in affection than Jake and Sylvana and subtle in how we show it
to those who don’t know us well.
“Ready to walk me down the aisle and present me to your son?” I nudge him gently, a little affectionate
grin on my face and that huge warmth runs through me when I see a little softening of his stern focus.
The subtle tells that underneath the cool Giovanni exterior beats a warm and loving heart.
“Of, course. I can imagine nothing more I’d rather be doing today.” He winks, smugness appearing on
his face and I shake my head at him. He reminds me so much of Jake at times, but I know neither
would ever admit to it.
“Glad you feel that way.” I lean up and plant an impromptu kiss on his cheek, with absolutely no qualms
about bestowing loving affection on my family members, even the males. From the corner of my eye I
catch
his eyebrow twitch, much like Arrick’s, showing a betrayal of flat emotion. My happy heart is too full of
warmth and
excited energy today and it must be rubbing off on him.
“Well, I didn’t go to the bother of losing an assistant and sending her back to my son on a whim.” He
winks at me, surprisingly, because he’s not a winker … and that’s twice now, but I’m flabbergasted
more because of what he said.
“What?” I blink up at him nonplussed, suddenly, thinking I maybe misheard him and can’t quite
compute what he’s saying. I blink at him while gripping his arm tightly and look confused.
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