by Ella Fields
To where Callum stood, hands behind his back, shoulders squared, and a luminous smile drawing uncountable eyes as he laughed at something Toby said beside him.
My bridesmaids walked ahead, leaving me with my father whose Italian shoes clipped on the marble floor as he walked over in a crisp black tuxedo.
“You look nice.”
His teeth flashed, eyes lighting with his megawatt grin. “I should be the one saying that to you.” Clearing his throat, he shifted some of my curled hair over my shoulder. “I was hard on you about the wedding thing.”
My lips pursed, but I waited as he continued, “It’s not only your mother and Lucinda who wanted this for you two. Did you think I’d let my only child get married and be okay with not being there to see it?”
“I’m sorry,” I said and meant it, feeling guilty for never having thought about it like that.
“I suppose you’re allowed to be selfish when you love someone.” Still smiling, his eyes danced over my face. “Which is why I don’t feel bad about you giving me what I want.”
With a laugh, I beamed up at him.
“Here,” he said, handing over a threadbare blue handkerchief from his pocket. “It was your grandfather’s and his father’s before. The tradition is to pass it down to each son in the Grant family. To have them give it to their brides, but”—he blew out a breath—“you’re everything I could’ve hoped for, and I’ll be damned if that isn’t a good enough reason to give it to you. As useless as it may seem.”
My fingers glided over the soft, worn material in my hand, then I tucked it away into the hidden pocket of my gown. “Something old and something blue,” I whispered.
“Right.” The orchestra started up, and my father held out his arm. “Let’s get you married, for the second and hopefully, last time.”
Callum’s eyes widened when he saw me, his lips rubbing over each other as he shifted on his feet. I half wondered if he was nervous, but then he grinned, winking at me as I slowly approached, and he took me from my dad.
With a calmness to his movements that made my trembling hands feel like an embarrassment, Callum took something from Toby. I sucked in a breath at seeing my bow, the one I wore at our first wedding and had left in his glove compartment. “Turn around,” he said.
I did, closing my eyes to stop tears from escaping as he carefully lifted my veil and slid it into my hair.
“Look at me,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.
When I did, he grinned once more. Only this time, his eyes shined with tears that I knew he’d refuse to let fall. Slowly, he blinked, then took my hands and smoothed his thumbs over them to quell their shaking. “Much better.”
The celebrant asked us to repeat after her, and we did, eyes and hands locked, a crooked smile on Callum’s lips that I wanted to kiss off his face.
As we stood there, the impossibility of the moment washed over me.
That even after they’d torn your heart to shreds and used it as a weapon against you, you could still love that same person with a ferocity that bordered on magic. And maybe that was the crux of it. Love was magic. Capable of making you believe the impossible was always possible.
But it wouldn’t hold two people together, no matter how fiercely they felt for one another.
No, it was true that vows were only words, and love was only a feeling. No matter how strong.
It was our actions, our experiences, and the guidance of past mistakes that would glue what was ruined back into one slightly misshapen yet beautiful piece.
And as he said, “I do,” and I repeated after him, exchanging rings with giddy smiles, I knew that if we were to break again, the only thing that could hold us back from fixing us would be ourselves. And we’d already learned the hard way not to let anything else interfere.
“Mouse,” Callum rasped, lifting my cheeks for his lips to meet mine.
“There’s no shaking me now,” I retorted, absorbing his laughter with my mouth as cheers and music engulfed us.
After having our photos taken, we sat down to a three-course meal inside. My mother and Valery’s speeches were predictably embarrassing but also heartfelt.
“At least there’s no more mention of prince and princess,” Callum whispered into my ear, feeding me a bite of rich strawberry cheesecake.
Licking the sugary sweet cream from my lips, I forced an offended look onto my face. “That’s because we’re the soon to be king and queen.”
He kissed me, something he’d been struggling not to do despite our company, and murmured, “When I take you, I want you to keep the veil and shoes on.”
“But of course,” I said, nipping his lips.
Pushing his chair back, he held out his hand for mine and escorted me to the dance floor as the violins pierced the air with a hauntingly soft melody.
With my arms around him, I moved my head to rest on his shoulder. His arms tightened around me as he rocked us side to side. I blinked, staring at all the guests as they watched us and talked among themselves, and absorbed everything.
This was real. The one thing we’d tried to avoid yet wound up appreciating. The beauty in the aftermath. The unpredictable ebb and flow of fate, if such things could be believed to be true.
Callum’s lips whispered through the strands of hair on top of my head, his chin resting there as he said, “This was strangely perfect, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes.” My gaze found his teammates sitting at their table. Burrows was gyrating his hips as he gulped champagne to Paul’s encouragement. Pippa and Daisy were in fits of laughter over something as they strode toward the table.
Once I would’ve said that fate was something only you created, and now, I saw it as something else entirely. A grand plan that you could try to fight against or fight for, but if it was meant to happen, it eventually would. That didn’t mean you didn’t need to work for it. It just meant you had a little help when you least expected it.
“But all of this …” I closed my eyes. “We both know it doesn’t erase anything.” The words tumbled out of me, soft but honest. If we stood a chance at facing the future together, words that mattered could no longer stay trapped inside us.
“No,” Callum agreed. “But it’s a reminder.” Lowering his head, his nose glided over my skin and he pressed a kiss to my cheek, right beside my ear. “To keep trying to get it right, even when we’re getting it wrong.”
Ten years later
“The files for the meeting tomorrow are on your desk,” Penelope said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she hurried down the hall to catch up to me.
Shoving my arm through the sleeve of my jacket, I nodded and hit the elevator button. “Thanks, and the Hilton documents? They left a message saying they were waiting on the transfer to be finalized.”
Penelope’s eyes widened. “Uh, I’ll get on it right now.” Then she was racing back down the hall to her desk before I could stop her.
Chuckling, I carried my briefcase inside the elevator, hit the button for the parking garage, and pulled my ringing phone from my pocket.
“Callum Welsh,” I said without checking who it was.
“Are the Hilton documents finalized?” my father asked.
With a roll of my eyes, I stepped out of the elevator when the doors reopened. “I’ve just had it taken care of.”
The lights of my Rover flashed as I unlocked it and swung open the door. I tossed my briefcase in, the Bluetooth connecting when I started the car, catching the tail end of my father’s next sentence. “… kept waiting.”
“I know, it’s fine. You need to relax,” I said, clicking my seat belt on before backing out and speeding out of the garage of Welsh Grant Holdings. “Retirement doesn’t suit you.”
Damon and my father had retired four years ago. Well, semi-retired.
“Semi-retired,” he reminded me once again.
“Uh-huh.” I smirked out the windshield, cursing as dusk faded fast into night. A look at the dash said I’d be late
if I didn’t step on it. “Take up some more golf or use that yacht you just had to buy; I’ve got it covered.”
He chuckled.
“Lucy’s recital starts in twenty minutes,” my mother’s voice hollered in the background. “We’re just pulling up. Where are you?”
“I’m on my way,” I said, hanging up before she could badger me about how late I might be. Not if I had anything to say about it. My daughter was her mother but had the attitude of her father and didn’t hesitate to let someone know when she was pissed off.
I hit the highway, speeding down it until I saw the exit for Trellara and veered off.
As far as the eye could see, cars lined every possible inch of space outside the private elementary school. I cursed again, driving around the block twice before driving up onto the grass in front of the school. They could take up any issues they’d no doubt have about it with me later. I was more scared of my kid than I was them.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I ignored it when I saw Renee peeking her head out from backstage inside the auditorium, her phone pressed to her ear. Relief loosened her features, and she waved a hand at me to hurry up.
I strode by a group of teachers, parents everywhere taking a seat, and saw my girl standing in a corner backstage. Her arms were crossed over her chest, a pout on those bow-shaped lips, and her red hair in a high ponytail that had strands falling around her made up face.
“Since when do princesses look so angry?” I asked.
“Daddy!” Lucy turned, tossing herself into my arms and almost sending us to the floor.
Laughing, I picked her up and kissed her rosy cheeks.
“You’ll ruin my madeups,” she sassed, pushing me away with a hand on my nose.
I looked at my wife, who was dressed in skintight black jeans and a shimmery, loose-fitting gold top that rippled beneath the meager lighting and draped off one shoulder.
She stepped away from one of the mothers she’d been talking to and wrapped an arm around my waist. I gave her my mouth when she rose onto her toes to quickly kiss it. “You hear this girl?”
Renee grinned, then fussed with Lucy’s bright yellow tutu and purple leotard.
“You’re only five,” I told Lucy. “You don’t need makeup anyway.”
She held up six fingers. “Six next week, ya know.”
“That’s next week, and I don’t need reminding.” With another kiss, I set her down.
“Why?” She placed her hands on her hips, her green eyes scrutinizing me. “You need to be reminded so you don’t forget.”
“I doubt you’d let that happen, sweet girl,” Renee said.
Leaning into me, she quickly kissed me again before directing Lucy to the stage with the other little girls and a few boys.
I moved out into the audience and took a seat beside Mom and Valery as Lucy’s kindergarten class took the stage.
“Is this supposed to be Alice in Wonderland?” my dad leaned over Mom to ask me.
Mom pushed him back, eyes steadfast on the stage as she recorded the show on her phone. “Shhh.”
He rolled his eyes, and I shrugged. I had no idea, but fuck if I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the sight of them all trying their hardest to get the dance moves right. Concentration marred Lucy’s face, her eyes darting to the side of the stage where Renee was probably hiding in the curtains, trying to reenact the dance.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Ever since Lucy could walk, all she’d wanted to do was dance. So we indulged her at the age of three.
When they bowed, everyone stood, clapping and cheering as the kids looked upon us all with disbelieving smiles. We watched a few more acts before I finally got to sneak backstage to where Renee was helping Lucy change.
“Lucinda Valery Welsh, stop that. You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen.”
“I happen to agree,” I said, leaning on the doorjamb as I watched Renee comb out Lucy’s curls. “What’s brought this about?”
“Daddy, some boy made fun of my hair.”
Renee tried to laugh it off but stopped when she saw me move closer, my shoulders tensed. “Some boy?”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah, Timothy.”
My fists clenched until my knuckles cracked beneath my thumbs. “He still here?”
“Oh, my God. Stop it,” Renee said, tossing the brush into her bag and grabbing Lucinda’s hand. She waved at some other mothers, then tried to grab my hand. “Let’s go.”
“Not so fast,” I said. “I think I would like to meet this Timothy.”
Renee’s brow arched. “Callum,” she whispered, “he’s five.”
I shrugged. “Gotta quell it while they’re young.”
She laughed, walking down the hall. “You’d know, right?”
Lucy broke free of her grasp and ran to me with her arms in the air. I picked her up. “Was you a bully, Daddy?”
“Well,” I hemmed. “I wouldn’t say …”
“He was,” Renee interjected, “but he apologized.”
Lucy studied me as we walked into the auditorium and met up with our parents.
“You looked fabulous, darling girl,” my mother cooed, taking Lucy from my arms.
My father poked her in the cheek. “Like a little fairy.”
“I’m not a fairy. I’m a princess.”
Valery snorted, then took Lucy and kissed both her cheeks twice. “And what a beautiful princess you are,” Damon said, bending to do the same before Valery deposited her on the floor.
Renee took her hand again. “Time to get you home and fed.”
“McDonald’s?” Lucy asked.
When Renee gave her a stern look, Lucy turned to me.
Fuck. “Sure thing, princess.”
Renee slapped my arm, and we said goodbye to our chuckling parents.
I made sure Lucinda was strapped into the back of Renee’s car, then made the drive to McDonald’s on my own.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into our three-bedroom ranch gifted to us by our parents years ago. Renee had developed a serious attachment to it. Although we’d outgrown it and had the money to move into something ten times bigger, she refused to.
The thought of leaving a place filled with only good memories had me agreeing. Even when I stubbed my toe on toys that littered the living room and any available space in the house.
My headlights illuminated the double garage as I drove into it and parked between a Barbie bicycle and Renee’s Range Rover. She’d upgraded to white when we found out she was pregnant with Lucy. I grabbed the food and got out, leaving my briefcase behind.
Walking into the kitchen, I dumped my keys and eyed the mail on the counter as I set up Lucy’s dinner. Renee and Lucy’s laughter, coming from the bathroom, had me smiling as I shoved french fries into my mouth and began opening some of the mail.
Bills, bills, a check for Renee, more bills. She’d started up her business online after college and worked part time at Welsh Grant Holdings until it took off enough to pay for the finer things she liked to buy. Never mind that I was playing for the Cowboys at the time and could’ve helped her. Beautiful, stubborn woman.
My football career lasted all of three seasons before I threw in the towel when my dad had a heart attack—which was part of the reason they’d chosen to retire. Or, my bad, semi-retire. Renee had not long had Lucy, and I was sick of constantly being away from them anyway. So when my contract expired, I came home, eager to get my hands dirty and learn more about the company before I took over.
When I got to the last letter, I almost choked on my next mouthful of fries.
An invitation fluttered to the bench.
“Wedding?” Renee asked, helping Lucy up onto a stool at the counter. “Whose is it?”
When I didn’t respond, she walked over, peering at it from beside me. “Oh, no way.”
We hadn’t heard a word from Mike since college. We’d tolerated each other until he was drafted at the end of our third year. Last I heard, his career ended before it eve
n took off, and he was helping his mom by running an out of state branch of her IT company.
“He’s getting married,” I said.
“Who?” Lucy asked, chewing with her mouth open.
“And to her, wow.” Renee laughed, leaving my side to dig out her wrap from the takeout bag.
“Who?” Lucy asked again.
“Alexis, though. Didn’t see that one coming. She’s not …” I frowned.
“Meek enough for him?” Renee suggested, swiping ranch from her bottom lip. “I think he’s showed us already that they aren’t his type.”
Feeling that familiar anger rise within, I grabbed the invitation and tossed it into the trash.
“Who?!” Lucy shrieked.
“Hey,” Renee scolded.
Lucy waved her hands in exasperation. “So answer the question.”
Renee turned to the window to hide her laughter. “An old friend of Daddy’s,” she said, collecting herself.
I paused in unwrapping my burger, shooting her a glare.
The look she gave me said to leave it at that.
Fine.
“You gonna go then, Daddy?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” Lucy asked as she tried to tug the toy that came with her meal from its wrapper.
Renee sighed but didn’t push, moving around the counter to sit beside our daughter. Taking the toy, she opened the wrapper and set it up for her.
The sight of the two of them next to each other never got old. My queen and my princess.
The thought of putting another child in my wife’s belly tempted me on a weekly basis, but we already had our hands full with one.
And that was probably our own fault for spoiling her as we did.
“Because I don’t want to.”
Lucy grinned, displaying a missing tooth and half-chewed food in her mouth. “You really are mean, Daddy.”
Renee quirked a brow. “He’s not mean.” She paused, winking at me. “He’s charmingly honest.”
Lucy looked puzzled, then clearly decided she didn’t care enough to ask more questions and returned her attention to her food.