by Monica James
“What are you doing here?” She looks over my shoulder, no doubt looking for London.
“We need to talk.”
She’s in yoga pants and a slouchy tee. It seems I’ve interrupted a cozy night in. But I only need a minute.
“Now isn’t a good time.”
When she attempts to close the door in my face, I wedge my foot into the doorway. I won’t take no for an answer. “You need to reconsider your decision because penalizing Emily for whatever insecurities you have isn’t fair.”
There is no sweet-talking. I go straight in for the kill.
A rush of air expels from her lungs before she swiftly steps forward, closing the door behind her so we’re alone and away from prying ears. “I’m not penalizing her. I’m protecting her,” she corrects with a bite to her tone.
My memories decide to materialize, reminding me of all the times we laughed at nothing, and how she was my bestest friend. She looks the same, but on the same token, she looks like a stranger. Time hasn’t been kind to her. Not in reference to her appearance but rather to the weight she seems to carry on her shoulders.
I shake my head, focusing on why I’m here. “Protecting her from what? London would rather cut off his own arm than see her hurt. I know you’re not happy with the way your life turned out. And I’m sorry.”
Tears sting her somber eyes as she chews the corner of her mouth.
“I’m sorry that Lincoln played us both. But don’t allow his bitterness to taint your daughter’s future. London may not love you the way you love him…”
She gasps, surprised I’m privy to her secret, but why else would she react this way?
“But he loves Emily, and that’s all that matters. Whatever issues you have with me, don’t punish him.”
She wipes away a tear and averts her gaze.
“For once, do something right in your life. Rise up and stop being the victim.”
“You were always the strong one.” She sniffles, and I just want to slap her “woe is me” attitude off her face.
“I was forced to be. Don’t you remember how cruel kids were?”
She nods slowly, her long hair shrouding her face.
“Show your daughter that you can be strong too. Push aside your feelings and think of someone other than yourself.” Here goes nothing. “London wants to legally adopt Emily.”
Her head snaps up, eyes wide. “He does?”
“Yes. I’m going to help him…and so are you. Lincoln may be Emily’s birth father, but he’s a snake, and as her mother, you shouldn’t want him anywhere near your daughter. If London can adopt her, Lincoln will be out of her life for good, and she won’t ever have to experience the cruelness I did as a kid.”
Because that’s all she’ll have with Lincoln—a cruel, cold childhood.
“London is taking a paternity test, and Lincoln needs to take one too. It’s the first step in making this right. We need to prove what an abandoning asshole he truly is.”
She seems overwhelmed as she cradles her cheek. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’m not,” I state, firmly. “You are.”
She nervously licks her lips. “H-how am I supposed to do that?”
“Figure it out. You were able to lure him into your bed…” She flinches, but I stand my ground. “I’m sure you can work your magic again.”
“He hates me,” she cries, but I can’t tell if she’s pained or angered. “He will know I’m up to something.”
“No, he won’t. His pride is wounded and what better way to bait a narcissist than by stroking his huge ego and telling him how you can’t live without him.”
This is the reason he ran back to Belle time and time again. She feeds his ego, and after what London and I did to him, he’ll be desperate to feel in control once again.
“This is what being a grown-up is about. This is you making amends. You owe me this, Belle. You owe yourself.”
Her lower lip quivers.
“Support London just as he’s supported you over the years.” I don’t specify how because I’ve given her food for thought. I mentioned the adoption because she is the key. If she sides with London, our chances increase vastly. I am sick of Emily being a pawn. We need to end this now.
And if she can somehow convince Lincoln to take that paternity test, we’re on our way.
“If he refuses to play nice, just lie…You’re good at that.”
It’s a low blow, and when she flinches, it’s clear I’ve hurt her feelings. A small part of me weeps for the innocent Holland and Belle we once were.
“London and I are getting married on the beach. Sooner rather than later. It would mean a lot to him if his daughter was there. If our friendship ever meant anything to you”—my voice trembles—“you’ll do the right thing.”
Tears cascade down her cheeks. I can only hope they’re filled with wisdom.
“Goodbye, Belle.” I turn and leave as I have nothing left to say. I’m not here for an encore.
I came here to beg the childhood friend I hope still lurks within Belle to do what’s right for Emily and London. Not only is that allowing her to come to our wedding, but most importantly, it’s her being a true mother and ridding the monster from her daughter’s closet.
I won’t wait for Lincoln to strike. I’m going to strike first, and ironically, the person who started this is the one person who can finish it.
I only hope it’s not too late.
Once upon a time, a princess met her Prince Charming…but she just didn’t know it right away.
They experienced turbulence because their families were sworn enemies, but regardless of their forbidden feelings, their love withstood the test of time.
And now, ten years later, their sacrifices have paid off because that princess is sitting in front of a mirror, dressed in white, ready to marry her prince.
“Are you sure it’s not too much?” I ask Chloe through the mirror as she stands behind me.
Her response is to wipe away her tears.
“Stop it.” I sniffle a chuckle, wiping under my eyes, hoping not to smudge Chloe’s three-hour masterpiece. “You start, and I won’t stop.”
It’s taken us two days, but we did it. London and I are finally getting married.
We were able to find a celebrant who was happy to perform the ceremony on the beach right in front of London’s home. We decided to have the wedding at dusk because nothing would be more romantic than saying “I Do” at sunset.
I came clean and told London I saw Belle. Although I didn’t divulge what we discussed, he knew. I didn’t know how he’d react, but he just seemed tired. We both were. That fact had me working like a woman possessed to organize our dream wedding in just two days.
“You look so beautiful, Holland.” She fiddles with the jeweled clip in my hair, securing my low chignon. I know it’s her nerves because my hair is perfect. She made sure of it. Just as she made sure I bought the dress I tried on at her mom’s store.
My wish of not wearing any shoes seems all the more appropriate now, seeing as in just a few minutes, I’ll be walking down a sandy aisle to meet my groom.
London and I are far from traditional, so it surprised me when he said he’d be staying at his friend’s Nix house last night. He didn’t want to jinx anything by seeing me before the wedding.
The time apart made all this real.
“Okay, just one final coat of hairspray, and then we’re done.” While she touches up her work, I look at my appearance and can’t deny she’s done a good job.
My makeup isn’t heavy. Just a light dusting of powder coats my rosy cheeks. My eyes are smoky. My lashes thick with mascara. My pout is a rose tint. The light catches my small diamond drop earrings, and nostalgia follows.
“Nothing from your parents?” Chloe reads my thoughts, though these earrings were a gift from my mom when I turned sixteen.
“No, but it’s okay.” I attempt to brush it off, but my disappointment is evident. “I wasn’t expecting th
em to forget their issues just because I fell in love.”
“I’m sorry. It still sucks.” She frowns as she caps the hairspray, hinting we’re done.
“It does, but I choose this life. I choose London. I wish I didn’t have to make a choice, but I don’t feel guilty for choosing love.”
We both look at the clock on the wall and see that it’s just after 7:30 p.m. I know traditionally, a bride should be late, but I don’t think I can wait a minute more.
Chloe squeaks, clapping her hands in excitement. “Hang on. Let me look outside.” She lifts the hem of her emerald green silk cocktail dress and runs over to the balcony, peering over the railing. Her intake of breath hints that London is there.
I suddenly feel nervous. Every moment has led to this—me becoming his. And him becoming mine.
My heart flutters, and my pulse begins a deafening rhythm.
Standing slowly, I take a moment to look at myself in the full-length mirror, knowing that when I see my reflection next, I’ll be Mrs. London Sinclair.
Chloe passes me my bouquet— a bunch of white roses and vibrant blue orchids that match the brilliance of my beautiful engagement ring. “Thank you, Chloe,” I say sincerely, clutching the stems of my bouquet, “for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Tears sting her kind eyes as she holds her own bouquet. “Maybe I’ll find my Prince Charming one day.”
“He will be lucky to have you.”
“I always cry at weddings.” She sniffs, dabbing at her eyes.
Taking one last look around London’s bedroom, it warms me to know when I return, it’ll be mine, too.
As we commence our slow walk down the stairs, I catalog everything—the good, the bad, the ugly. But all that fades into the background because nothing else matters but this. Chloe paces herself in front of me with an unhurried stride as we never want this night to end.
The path to the beach is just off to the left of the apartment complex, so we take the elevator down to the foyer. When the doors open, I inhale through my nose, needing to steady my nerves. Chloe links her arm through mine with a smile.
We walk in silence toward the exit and step outside. The warm breeze smells of the ocean. All it will take is a few more steps, and I will be ready to seal my fate forever. It’s bittersweet that I will be walking myself down the aisle, but the thought of whom I will be walking toward has me moving in the direction of the sandy walkway.
London is about three hundred feet away, roughly one hundred and twenty steps. I can do this.
“I’ll see you out there,” Chloe says, clutching my trembling hands in hers.
I nod quickly, holding my breath.
She gives me one final smile before she turns the corner and disappears around the apartment complex and down the small sand dune. I won’t be able to see her until I take a few steps forward, but doing that means I will see London, standing by the shore, waiting for me.
My stomach roils, and I suddenly think I’m going to be sick. But as the setting sun hints it’s almost about to set over the horizon, a dazzling ray catches my ring, and it sparkles brightly.
Remembering London’s words when he proposed to me and remembering the way he has loved me for my entire life settles my nerves because this is London, the man I love more than life itself. I have nothing to be nervous about because what I’m about to do is a celebration, an expression to the world that we beat the odds, and our love did triumph all.
With that as my mindset, I lead with my head held high and my heart filled with love. However, as I follow in Chloe’s footsteps, I am stopped dead in my tracks. I blink once, not believing what I’m seeing.
When I think I can speak, I whisper, “Dad?”
My father, my hero is here in a suit with a white rose corsage buttoned to his jacket pocket. “You didn’t think I’d let my only daughter get married without me walking her down the aisle, did you?”
I don’t even know what to say or think. It’s just too much. I stare wide-eyed.
“Shall we?” He offers his arm while I peer down at it, tears welling.
“Daddy…you’re here,” I cry, uncaring that I sound like a child because at this moment, this happiness is untainted and childlike.
“Of course, I am, baby.”
A sob gets caught in my throat, and I throw myself into his arms. He catches me, hugging me tightly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let him go. “Ho-how?” I can’t even speak as my emotions are running wild.
“Anyone who loves you as much as he does…has my respect.”
I weep harder, clutching his shoulders tighter.
This is London’s doing. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. He knew that this, having my dad here, would be the best wedding gift of all. This is everything I could ever want because I know through thick and thin, my mom and dad will stick together, meaning…she’s here too.
That thought has me unwrapping myself from his arms and smiling when he brushes away my tears. “Ready?”
I nod quickly because I so am.
Looping my arm through his, I inhale deeply through my nose and exhale through my lips; the lips I can’t wait to press against my betrothed’s.
Peering ahead, I feel my heart patter wildly, like the flap of a butterfly wings as she takes flight for the first time because I see him. I see the man I love.
London stands by the shore with his back turned as he awaits my arrival. I think I’ve made him wait long enough. Chloe looks over her shoulder, smiling. I nod. It’s time.
She commences a slow walk while my father and I follow. We descend the small sand dune, the soft sand feeling like heaven beneath my bare feet. The gentle crashing of the waves is our soundtrack, and the orange hue of the setting sun is our backdrop.
There are no fancy settings—no red carpets or flickering candles. And that’s what we wanted. All I need are the stars twinkling down around us, bearing witness to a true miracle because this was always, always written in the stars.
A small crowd has gathered, watching me as I beam broadly, never feeling happier than I do right now. I wonder what they see, what London and I look like through the eyes of a stranger. When my dad places his hand over mine, squeezing gently, my mom steps forward, the sunlight catching her tears.
She stands on the sidelines, watching on with nothing but happiness. My lower lip trembles, but I don’t cry. “Hi,” I mouth, smiling gently.
“Hi,” she mouths back, dabbing at her eyes with a white handkerchief. We continue our march because we’re almost there.
At that precise moment, a soothing breeze sweeps across the ocean, enveloping me in a warm bubble and engulfing me in a signature fragrance which has me wetting my lips. It smells like home.
London turns slowly, and time stands still. We lock eyes, and my heart sings to his. We are two halves as the magnetic field around us draws us together. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows deeply, combing over every inch of me. And I do the same.
I’ve never seen him in a suit before, but this ensemble is so London. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to the elbows, exposing his taut and tattooed forearms. His dark gray pants match the vest he wears. He doesn’t wear a jacket, making him look all the more rugged.
His tie is a sapphire blue and matches my ring and flowers. As I peer down at his feet, I smirk at the scuffed black Chucks he dons because they complete the outfit perfectly. He’s groomed his beard, but his hair, that bedroom hair, is flicked to the heavens. He looks epic, and without a doubt, I am the luckiest woman alive.
Chloe takes her position beside our celebrant, Laurence.
As I take the final steps, London proceeds forward, meeting me halfway. With eyes interlocked, he smiles. “Hi, Princess.”
I don’t realize how much I’ve missed him until I hear those words.
My father hesitates, holding my hand. I know how hard this is for him, so I will give him all the time he needs. He peers down at me with nothing but love. “Take
care of her.”
London nods without question, extending his hand. “I will.”
Letting go is the hardest thing, but my parents being here is a sign that they’re ready to try. My father kisses my forehead before sending me on my way. He’s just given his blessing. He makes his way to where my mother stands, wrapping his arm around her. I’m not sure where their relationship is after the bombshell Kayla dropped, but to me, they look as they’ve always looked—very much in love.
The sight has me slipping my hand into London’s and exhaling when we connect. On cue, he rubs his thumb over my ring, boring so deeply into me, I feel as if we’ve just become one. I move toward him. He moves toward me.
“Shall we get married?” asks Laurence with an amused laugh. His words break our trance, and I bashfully take a step back, my cheeks reddening.
We turn to look at our marriage celebrant, and he commences. “Friends, we are here to witness the marriage of two people who, as you can clearly see, are meant for one another. Their love is timeless and has survived the test of time.” We asked Laurence for simple, and he was happy to comply.
As Laurence continues with his introduction, my eyes never waver from London’s. We are drunk on one another, and the more time that passes, the more intoxicated I become. I am swimming in his essence, as he seems to be in mine.
His smile is adoring while I am lost to the moment and doubt I’ll ever be found.
“Both London and Holland have written their own vows.” Laurence’s announcement alerts me that it’s time to stop gawking. He nods at London to go first.
I’m not even sure how long I’ve spent getting lost in London, but when I glance around, I see that a larger crowd has gathered. I search the faces, hoping that I see only one, but Emily isn’t here. How I wish she was because the day now feels complete with my loved ones standing by me. I wish London had that too.
I wasn’t expecting his parents to come, but I was hoping Belle would do the right thing. She hasn’t.
Chloe’s mom stands by my parents, and I notice a few people who clearly know London personally standing close by, smiling proudly. The fact I don’t even know his friends, to most, would have been a reason to wait to get married, but I’m not most.