She laughs. “It’s obvious she admires you, and not just in a romantic way.
Your work ethic. The love you have for your brothers. The way you gave her a chance to show her worth. For the last one, I can’t thank you enough.
Truly.”
I’m speechless as I stare at her with my lips parted. I don’t even know how to process her final comment, seeing as most people are horrified by the way my assistant works more hours than half the executives.
“But of course, like any mother, I worry about her and what the future holds for her. I don’t want her to go through the kind of pain I experienced. I want a better life for her. One that I think you can provide, so long as you promise to always honor her and the vows you make this weekend.”
“I can assure you that I will always have Iris’s best interests at heart.”
Even if they jeopardize mine.
1 ? Noun, Danish: A cozy quality that makes a person feel content and comfortable.
11
IRIS
“Y ou look beautiful.” My mom tries to blink away the tears brimming at the corners of her dark eyes. She adjusts my veil with a shaky hand, being mindful of my perfectly curled hair. With my vintage-inspired lace gown worth more than a year’s rent and shoes that glitter like the diamond on my finger, I feel like a true Dreamland princess.
The bouquet of colorful flowers shakes against my chest.
This is it.
If I had my way, I would have eloped somewhere with only my closest family and friends by my side. But this wedding isn’t about me. Hell, it isn’t about Declan either, given his preference for a simple ceremony too. Granting my mother’s wish for a religious ceremony was the best choice for multiple reasons, but mainly because we need to show the hundreds of guests, including Brady Kane’s lawyer, that we’re a united front. That we’re in love.
It takes all the power in me not to scrunch my nose at that idea.
Mom sniffles. “I can’t believe my baby is getting married.”
“Please don’t cry.” I couldn’t bear it if she did. I’m pretty sure I would crack under the pressure and confess this whole plan if she sheds a single tear.
“It’s hard not to. I always dreamed of you finding someone who made you happy.”
Something in my chest twinges. “You have?”
She nods. “I was worried I made a bad impression on you when you were a child. That I let my bitterness toward your father get in the way of showing you how to move on despite the hurt.”
“Mom—” I want to tell her no, but I can’t find it in me to tell any more lies. The truth is, my mother’s experience with my father weighed heavily on me while growing up. It changed something in me, and a fake marriage isn’t going to fix that. If anything, it only proves what I already know. Love is something that only exists in fairy tales and Dreamland movies. The reality is much bleaker.
As if she reads my thoughts, my mom continues, “Not all men are like your father. It took me a long time to realize that, but I’m glad you learned far quicker than me.”
“Right.” My voice cracks. I’m about two seconds from falling apart.
She cups my cheek with her hand. “I’m proud of you for finally opening up to someone. For risking your heart knowing all the possibilities—good and bad. You’ve come so far.”
My throat tightens uncomfortably, and I look away to avoid her gaze, afraid she can read the truth in my eyes. There’s no way in hell I would ever open myself up to loving Declan. While I consider him a friend, he wants nothing to do with me in that way.
Nana steps out of the bathroom. “Are we done with all the sad stuff now?
This is a wedding, not a funeral.”
Mom and I burst into laughter, and the moment is gone like it never happened in the first place. But the tight feeling in my chest still lingers long after the topic changes. Conversations about my father always stir up old demons, but today’s festivities might as well be a welcoming party for them.
Most girls dream of the day they walk down the aisle. I, on the other hand, always knew I would dread the reminder of growing up without a father. My mother offered to stand in his place, but I wanted to walk alone. I promised myself ages ago that I would just to prove a point to myself that I don’t need him. I didn’t back then and I sure as hell don’t now.
The music plays on cue. Everyone stands and turns their attention toward me. My entire body trembles from all the unwanted eyes assessing me, and I release a shaky breath.
You got this.
I smile beneath my veil, hiding the way my eyes prick from unshed tears. My eyes lift toward my destination. I nearly stumble as I find Declan’s eyes locked on me, but I catch myself. Whatever burns in his gaze sends goosebumps across my skin. I’m not sure I have ever seen Declan look at me like this, but it does something crazy to my heart rate.
I march down the aisle like a dedicated soldier reporting for duty. Declan doesn’t take his eyes off me, probably to make sure I don’t make a run for the closest emergency exit. Something about his gaze today has my stomach feeling light and bubbly.
…Or it’s because of the last-minute champagne Nana offered me.
Because there is no way in hell that my boss gives me butterflies. The idea alone makes me want to cackle up to the roof like a madwoman.
Yeah, definitely the champagne. I’ve always been a bit of a lightweight.
Declan, like me, stands alone. I’m not sure why he didn’t choose one of his brothers to be his best man, but I’m somewhat relieved given my lack of options for a maid of honor. I don’t have many friends. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m too busy working all the time. Cal offered to step in and wear a pink suit for me, but I declined, saying pink wasn’t his color. We both know it’s a lie. But it seemed better than facing the reality that he is my only friend to speak of.
I stop at the front of the aisle and turn toward my fiancé with a hesitant smile. His jaw locks as his eyes roam over me, making my skin flush under his scrutiny.
His hand traces the edge of my veil. I catch the slight tremble he tries to hide by fisting the fabric. Declan has always hated big crowds. Something about them makes him nervous, not that he would ever confess such a thing to a single soul.
But I know, and the secret makes me smile.
“Relax. Just pretend they’re not here,” I whisper low enough for only his ears.
He doesn’t reply as he lifts the veil up and over my head. Whatever he sees has him blinking twice.
“Is everything okay?” I whisper.
His head does the smallest shake. “You look nice.”
Whatever buzz I felt all the way to the tips of my toes dies a quick death.
I. Look. Nice? Is he kidding me? He could have said anything—literally anything—and it would have sounded a hell of a lot better than nice.