Davenport Harbor (Six Degrees Book 3)

by Statham, Mayra

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Anne

  Sitting at a pretty white vanity that John had insisted on buying for me, there was a woman taking pictures behind me as I fixed my make-up. I looked into the mirror, my eyes leaving my now pink-stained lips and moving up to my eyes as I put the lip tint down onto the table. She was so quiet I kept forgetting she was here, but maybe it was because my mind was filled with so many things.

  How many times had I looked into a mirror and hardly recognized the girl that stared back at me?

  Too many times. She used to be broken, bleeding and bruised, both physically and emotionally. It had shone through the eyes that had stared back at me.

  But it was somehow different now.

  I was no longer a girl staring into a mirror with her life in chaos, her heart aching and filled with disillusioned dreams, a girl who had no idea how she'd let her life head down the dead-end road she'd once been on; the once bruised and broken girl with hopeless eyes, with no hope of anything other than the mess she’d made of her life...thankfully, that girl no longer stared back at me.

  I would never regret being that girl. I was thankful for that girl. I was thankful to her, because without her, the woman that was currently staring back at me wouldn’t exist, nor would Zoey.

  I was wiser. Stronger. I knew what I was made of and what I could give. I knew my worth.

  The woman staring back had been through her own storm and she was more than ready to take this next step, putting one foot in front of the other as she walked towards her rainbow. The reflection of the woman in the mirror was smiling back at me. She was serene. Not nervous, not scared but utterly calm.

  John was far from perfect, but I loved that about him. I didn’t need perfect. I didn’t want that. I only wanted John.

  There was only one thought, one slight whisper in the back of my head that made me hesitate about today. He still hadn't said that he loved me. There was no doubt in my mind or heart that he did. I knew he did. He showed me and Zoey with everything he did. There was no doubt he was making the three of us a family. He had adopted Zoey! Without having to ask him, he'd known. He’d gone to the Downeys and had done it legally, all so I’d never have to face them again.

  He’d tell me when he was ready.

  I watched the door open and turned, smiling at my beautiful baby girl in Birdie’s arms.

  “What do you think?” I asked her, and Birdie’s smile told me everything I needed to know.

  “You’re beautiful. Oh, Anne!” Her green eyes were wet and shining with emotion. She closed the door behind her and hugged me tightly. “Thank you for letting me be here.”

  “You’re my best friend. If we had done a wedding party, you have to know you would have been my Maid of Honor,” I told her and she nodded.

  “I’m very grateful to have you and Zoey in my life, too!” She handed me my bouquet, and I sighed at how beautiful it was. Bright yellow sunflowers with white daises in between, mixed with baby’s breath and kept together with a beige satin, overlaid with vintage lace, “Here you go.”

  “It’s beautiful!”

  “Sabrina’s people did an amazing job. You should see how they set up the area for the ceremony!” I smiled, and my heart was full.

  I was excited to see our spot decorated. I couldn’t wait to say ‘I do’ and promise to cherish the man I loved wholeheartedly in the spot where we’d met. Where the storm had washed me in and had brought us together.

  “Mama!” Zoey squealed, her little chubby arms flailing in the air, and we both laughed as I reached down for her.

  She was dressed in a soft yellow dress that had layer after layer of tulle as the skirt. The top was beige lace, and she wore a headband of tiny sunflowers in her brown hair. Her blue eyes stood out, and I couldn’t help but smile at my beautiful angel. Holding her close, I kissed her forehead, leaving light pink lip marks on her there. She looked up at me while I looked down at her.

  “Dada!”

  “Yeah.” Something tightened in my throat at how beautiful it sounded for my baby girl to call for her ‘dada’, knowing that she meant John. Knowing that John was now legally as well as in his heart her dad took my breath away. The papers I’d signed had been officially filed first thing yesterday morning, a mysterious call coming in before dinner, after which John had told me it was done. Official. I knew that these things took time normally, but I knew John had ways to get things done at the speed he wanted, and this time, I was glad. Every single time this floated through my mind, I smiled. God, I loved him. His actions spoke louder than words, and that’s why I could live without hearing them out loud.

  Shaking my head, I tried to blink away the tears of what that beautiful man had done for us. Those three little words spoken out loud didn't matter as much as I’d thought.

  Not in the grand scheme of things.

  I looked at Birdie and I knew she was thinking the same thing. She liked Zoey having someone to call dad. Someone that was as good as John. I didn’t know much about Birdie Morgan’s family, but I did know they weren’t the best of people. Blinking furiously, trying not to cry, I laughed as Birdie picked up a magazine and fanned me.

  “NO crying! You are going to ruin your make-up and then we will have to have them come back in and John will not be happy about waiting any longer to see you.”

  “Have you seen him?” I asked her and she smiled.

  “Yup. Last time I saw him, Mike and Nick were teasing him about being impatient and ruining the floors in his study from all the pacing, and he growled something back that I really shouldn’t repeat in front of Zoey.” She laughed and then she settled. Tilting her head, she asked, “You okay?”

  I looked at Zoey in my arms, then at the beautiful ring on my hand and what it meant, and my eyes meeting hers, I nodded and smiled, because I was not sure I could say the words without crying and ruining my make-up.

  “I’m good.”

  “Well, Princess Zoey and I will see you outside. We just wanted to give you this.” She handed me a small white box with a sunflower on top.

  “What did you do, Birdie?”

  “Nothing. It’s not anything fancy, it’s your something blue,” she shared with me and I opened the box. A delicate baby-blue, beaded anklet was staring back at me. It was beautiful and simple and I couldn’t love it more.

  “Thank you.” My voice was soft. Birdie nodded and while Zoey was sitting at my feet, Birdie helped me put the anklet on, as well as a sixpence she’d found in a thrift shop in my shoe.

  Hugging me tightly, Birdie and Zoey left with the photographer. Looking at the clock, I realized I had twenty minutes to go. I should have probably asked them to stay with me.

  At a knock at the door, I stood, and just as I was about to turn the knob, I heard his gruff voice asking, “Kitten?”

  “John?” I asked, completely surprised he was right outside the door.

  “Open the door,” he pleaded, his voice frustrated, and I couldn’t help but giggle.

  “Sabrina would have a fit if you saw me now…”

  “Just open the door. I promise not to peek.” Rolling my eyes at his sweet impatience, I opened the door slightly, his huge hand slipping into the opening, waving at me. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Hold my hand, Anne.” His voice was raspy. I wondered what was going on with him, so I held it. Standing facing the door, I put my hand in his and looked at them together. He intertwined our fingers, and I loved the beautiful way our hands looked together, how great that connection felt.

  “John?” I whispered, “You okay, honey?” I asked and he squeezed my hand, clearing his throat.

  “I didn’t want to… shit.” He growled, and I started to get nervous.

  “John, you’re scaring me, do you not want to…”

  “No! God, no! I can’t wait. I just...'' He sighed deeply, then I heard the soft thump of his head touching the other side of the door.

  “What is it? You can tell me anything,” I whispered,
closing my eyes, worry mixing in the pit of my belly.

  “I love you,” he spoke those three little words that he had been holding back.

  Three words I knew he meant and showed me and Zoey, but still, hearing them broke down the last bit of my defenses. Silent tears ran down my face as he squeezed my hand.

  “Kitten, did you hear me?”

  “Mhhmm,”

  “Baby…”

  “I’m fine,” I lied, the tears falling down faster. My make-up was probably ruined now.

  “I…” he cleared his voice again, his tone raspy and full of emotion. “I know you know. But I wanted to tell you before you walked towards me. I need you to be clear who you are walking to.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked, my voice scratchy. Letting go of my hand, his hand searched for my face, his thumb wiping away the tears I couldn’t seem to stop.

  “A man that you brought back to life. You call me your beast, but I was more like a fucking tin man. I had no heart. I hadn’t had a heart since Alice died, not until you. You brought my heart back to life. I love you. I love you so fucking much, Kitten.”

  “John, open the door…”

  “I’m not supposed to see you, its bad luck."

  “I don’t care,” I told him, now being the one who was frustrated.

  “It’s bad luck.”

  “John, there is no way we’ve lived the lives we’ve lived, and seeing one another the moment you tell me you love me will bring us bad luck. I think it’s worse not looking at you or not being held by you when you tell me this, so please….” I pleaded, his clear hesitation letting me know he was thinking about it.

  “Do you have a robe? Something to cover your dress with?” He asked and I shook my head. Who would have thought John Davenport would be into traditions?

  “Yeah, why?” I asked, smiling at my sweet beast.

  “Put it on. I want to save seeing you in your dress until I watch you walking towards me.” My heart skipped a beat at the surprisingly romantic thing he wanted.

  I kissed his hand and grabbed the long terry cloth robe, slipping it on quickly. I opened the door and there he was standing in all his male beauty. His beautiful and powerful body was covered in a tuxedo without the jacket. He was leaning in the doorway, his dark eyes looking at me as if for the first time. He stepped in, shutting the door behind him, his intense stare never breaking from mine. I couldn’t breathe. The look of love and emotion staring back at me at the same time making me feel like his prey.

  “I love you,” he repeated. His voice was confident and honest, and something knotted in my throat. The vision of him in front of me suddenly became blurry again, since my eyes were filling with happy tears once more. His arms went around me quickly, holding me tightly, my face in his chest.

  “I love you,” I sobbed into his chest, and his hold became stronger, tighter, perfect. Breathing in his scent, I tried to calm down and looked up at him.

  “I will always love you, my future Mrs. Davenport.”

  “I’ll always love you, future hubby,” I told him, a smile so big on my face I was surprised it didn’t hurt while he gently wiped away my tears.

  “You’re so incredibly beautiful,” he told me in wonder.

  “You are, too.” His nose came down, skimming mine, and I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply, enjoying the sensation of being so close to him.

  “Breathing is easier with you,” he told me, and I held his face, needing to touch him. “How did I live so long without noticing that I needed you to breathe? To see the world in color?”

  “John...” I whispered while his lips landed on mine softly.

  “I didn’t want to wait till later to tell you this. I needed you to know.”

  “I did know.”

  “Yeah?”

  “There is no way I could love you the way I do without you loving me back the same way, honey.” His nose pressed closer, his beautiful smile against my lips. “Thank you for telling me the words I knew, but still wanted to hear,” I admitted and he nodded, his lips skimming lightly over mine.

  “I never want you to doubt how much I love you. How much you mean to me.” Now I kissed him hard and passionately, unable to stop myself, not caring that I had to redo my make-up. Pulling away from him, I rested my forehead against his.

  “You should go before someone finds out you’re in here,” I told him, smiling, and he nodded.

  “I’ll see you in fifteen.”

  “Fifteen,” I repeated, stepping away from him. I waved as he waved and walked quietly from the room.

  John- nineteen minutes later

  I turned at the sound of the bridal march starting, my sweet Zoey toddling down the aisle in a puffy soft yellow dress and a tiny sunflower filled headband as she walked towards me, smiling. About five feet from me, she put down the flower basket and ran towards me, yelling ‘dada’, making our guests laugh and sigh at the sight of my girl. I picked her up and kissed her forehead and held her as I watched Anne appear like an angel. She was stunning.

  Her dark short hair was in a slight wave with a vintage lace head piece that lay on her right side, her eyes were big and her lips were wearing the most beautiful smile, her pink lipstick accenting her beautiful mouth. Her shoulders were covered in a gauzy material that left her delectable shoulders bare. The bodice of her dress was lace and tapered off into a gauzy full skirt. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever looked at.

  “Mama!” Zoey cheered, clapping, and I smiled, not able to take my eyes off of my kitten as she walked towards us, my own tears rolling down my face.

  Thirty minutes later

  “I pronounce you Husband and Wife. John, kiss your bride!” The Wedding Officiant pronounced. The cheers and cat calls from our guests were boisterous and cheerful as I took her into my arms.

  One of my hands was at her waist, the other at the back of her hair, and our lips joined in the very spot where all of this had started. But instead of rain, there were flowers, and instead of darkness, there was nothing but light and love shining around us.

  With family and friends surrounding us, the past behind us, our future had never looked brighter.

  EPILOGUE

  Zoey Davenport

  Twenty-five years later on that same hill.

  The tents were all up, the live band my dad insisted on having was ready to go. Sipping my glass of champagne, I skimmed my hand over the skirt of my bright blue dress as I watched my mom and dad slow dance to a song that I’d heard many times in my life. It was a song that fit them perfectly, and countless memories of them together in the kitchen, of feeding one another, of them speaking in soft whispers, and of gentle stolen caresses and loving glances ran through my mind.

  My handsome dad spun my mom around while my sister Allison leaned into my shoulder and looked at me, winking.

  “They look so happy,” she sighed, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and smiled.

  “That’s because they are disgustingly in love,” I told Allie, scrunching my face playfully at her, and she laughed.

  “You think we’ll ever find that?” She asked and I looked at her. My beautiful twenty-one year old sister was the youngest and a hopeless romantic.

  “One day,” I told her and felt her sigh.

  “Have you ever been in love?” She asked and I smiled, not thinking about a certain man who had ended it not too long ago.

  “Not like them,” I answered and was lucky when I saw our very tall and very handsome brothers come up next to us.

  “What are you two whispering about?” Sam and Wally asked us and we smiled, shaking our heads. At twenty-three, they were both breaking hearts right, left, and center. They smirked, a look passing between them in their weird twin way that even after so many years I could never get used to.

  “Allie is wondering if we’ll ever be as in love as mom and dad,” I told them, and the guys rolled their eyes at Allie’s hopeless romanticism.

  My dad surprised us by taking the microphon
e while my mom came over to where we stood. Sam threw his arm over her shoulder. Dad’s voice boomed over the microphone, thanking everyone for coming. Then he shared the story that he told every year on this day, but was usually reserved for his family’s ears only.

  Dad’s deep voice was softer when he told the story about how they met. How a rainstorm had brought mom and me to him on this very hill. He told everyone how there had been no way he couldn’t have fallen in love with both my mom and I, something he had tried hard not to do. Everyone laughed at this, and it was mostly people who knew dad before mom, who knew how true his statement really was. Something I couldn’t even imagine him fighting.

  I had only been a baby when he’d come into our lives, so I didn’t have a single memory without him. He told everyone how love changed people, and I leaned into Wally, sipping my champagne and listening to my dad as I glanced over at my mom and couldn’t help but appreciate how incredibly in love they still were after so many years. How incredibly beautiful and rare that was. Maybe I was hanging out with Allie too much?

  Sure, they’d argued throughout the years. With twenty-five years of marriage, that was certainly expected. But even when they did, it was witty banter, and they always made up, laughing and hugging, love evident in their eyes. Always telling one another they wouldn’t want to fight with anyone else.

  Love was always present in our lives. There was never a moment in my life where I didn’t feel loved. Dad was the best dad anyone could ever have. Over the years, he was always there for us, through ballet recitals, soccer games, plays, science fairs, and graduations. Nothing was ever too small and everything was a big deal to both Mom and Dad, but somehow, for Dad it was slightly brighter, more special.

  Dad taught each of us how to ride our bikes, how to swim, how to drive. It was impossible to imagine the man that people described, to imagine how they said he used to be as compared to the man he was now. But that just showed that anyone could change. That love could change anyone.