Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You're everything I need, Brant."
"I will be," he says, leaning forward until our lips are a breath away. "I promise you, one day I will be."
Then he presses his lips to mine and, for a moment, I taste Lee.
Chapter 87
FIVE MONTHS LATER
I stand before a full-length mirror and study my reflection, waiting for the nervous butterflies that I have been warned about. I smooth my hand over my stomach, but it is calm and quiet. I pivot to the left and all three attendees rush forward to adjust the long train and the hang of the ivory beaded fabric. I look beautiful, thanks to Hawaii's most elite wedding planner who has guaranteed every detail is perfectly coordinated to create the most immaculate tiny wedding ever had.
There will be none of society's elite here today. No fake smiles of the women I have pretended, for so many years, to like. We will be a small party of nine: Brant's parents and my own, Anna, Christine, Brant, me, plus our flower girl.
If I have any stress, it's at seeing and spending time with our parents. Brant's are still wary of me and my effect on Brant’s status quo. They are still close with Jillian and don’t understand why we have cut the older woman out of our lives. My parents are ecstatic at the idea of me marrying tech's most successful entrepreneur and have no knowledge of his disorder.
The door of the dressing room clicks open, and I can hear the squeal of our flower girl before she arrives, a bundle of white careening around the corner and coming to a short halt before the mirror.
"Wow," Hannah breathes, her eyes on the mirror. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks, sweetheart." I move to the edge and an attendant helps me down the pedestal stairs. I crouch before the little girl. "You look equally beautiful." I pick up her small hand and widen my eyes in admiration at her tiny cherry-pink nails.
"A lady did them." She plops down on the carpet, unmindful of her mini Dior dress. Gripping an expensive jeweled slipper by the heel and pulling it off, she holds up her bare foot and wiggles her toes at me. "Look! My toes match!"
"Very impressive." I smile. "Got your petal tossing technique down?" I pass her shoe back and watch as she pulls it on, a small pink tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration.
Once the task is complete, she looks up with a smile. “Yep!” She jumps to her feet and begins to make exaggerated tossing gestures, each one complete with a small jump.
"Awesome." I hold up my fist and she bumps it with her own, giggling.
"Where's Mr. Brant?" she asks, looking around.
I shrug, rising to my feet. "Not sure. Why don't you go track him down and escort him to the garden? We don't want him to be late for the ceremony."
She nods solemnly, the task taken very seriously. "I'll find him right now," she promises, then turns and tears through the open doorway.
I return to the dressing stage and turn back to the mirror, waiting as the attendees return to the task of preparing the gown.
"She's an adorable little girl," the woman behind me says, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
I nod, smiling at the memory of Hannah boarding our jet, her hands touching every surface twice before the plane took off. "She is. Adorable with a side of demon," I warn her. "Keep an eye on her; she finds trouble as quickly as she hugs." A timely crash sounds from the direction of the kitchen, and I laugh. “See?”
I point toward the vanity. “Can you pass me that box, the blue one?”
The woman passes the small box to me, and I open it, withdrawing the two diamond studs that Brant gave me at our first Christmas together. I work them through each earlobe and check myself again for any trepidation.
There's none, and I'm not surprised. I can mark the leaving of Lee as clearly as my birth, the change in our relationship greater than I would ever have expected. Looking back, it was as if our relationship started fresh that day.
“Are you ready? The groom is in the garden, and everyone is in place.”
I smile and nod. “Yes.”
Chapter 88
My beaded slippers softly crunch down a short aisle of crushed pink shells. The path is lined with pink hibiscus blooms that match the one tucked behind my ear. The sound of the ocean waves are set off by the steel drum band. Brant and a pastor are standing at the end of the aisle underneath the garden’s pink trumpet tree, which is in full bloom, the branches heavy in pale pink blooms. The brilliant blue ocean is behind them, creating a stunning background to this moment of our love.