“I don’t expect you not to be friends with somebody you were with for that long, but it doesn’t mean I like the attention it gets,” he’d said. “And I still think he’s an asshole.”
He did appreciate Gabriel sending him a box of Cuban cigars and a bottle of Blue Label as a congratulatory gift for our wedding, though.
“That was a nice thing to do. He owed me for keeping you from me all those years,” he’d said when Marcus dropped off the present at his house, which we’d been sharing since we came back from our trip to Iceland.
Marcus no longer drove me around. Well, not all the time. I definitely didn’t need security anymore, but we’d kept in touch and now he had to deal with Victor’s and my rants. He seemed to be totally okay with both, but preferred Victor’s, probably because the rants usually happened over basketball, baseball, or football games, which were a thing in our house. I hated sports, so how I ended up marrying somebody who was so obsessed with them was just . . . crazy. I loved it, though. I loved having a house full of people.
He’d brought up marriage a few times, but I never imagined him getting down on one knee. I never imagined him pulling me into his arms one night as I’d walked through the door after a long day at work and holding me for the longest moment. Just holding me and breathing into my hair. When he leaned away from me just slightly and wordlessly searched my face, I began to worry. I was going to ask what was wrong, what had happened, when he dropped down on one knee and took a little black box out of his pocket as he looked up at me.
“I’ve had this ring for a few months, but there hasn’t been a right time for me to ask, with work, and everything else we’ve had going on. There’s never a right time because that’s how life is. It’s always chaotic, it’s always hectic, and work will never stop, and I love sharing that with you. I love being able to come home and have you as my sanctuary. You’ve built that for me, with me, and I want us to have it forever. I don’t want to imagine a life without you, Nicole Alessi. Marry me.”
I still got teary-eyed thinking about it. Estelle saw the look on my face and slapped my arm playfully, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Stop it. You can’t cry,” she said.
“I know. I was just thinking about Victor.”
“Ugh. Yeah, I’d be crying too,” Mia said, making us laugh.
“Are you ready?” my mom asked.
I nodded. “Yes.” And I had been.
My dad’s eyes widened when he saw me, a huge smile spreading over his face. I remembered the last time we’d done this and how serious he’d looked. Today he looked carefree, happy, as if he’d been waiting to give me away his entire life instead of wanting to grab me and lock me in my room forever. I asked him what changed, and he chuckled.
“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you’ve already done this?” he mused, and locked eyes with me. “Or maybe it’s the man you’re marrying. I see the way his eyes light up when he hears your name, and the way he takes care of you and puts you over everything. Not many things can drive him out of the office, you know? You did good, Nic. He’s one of the good ones.”
I smiled, feeling myself tear up again. Shit. I needed to stop doing that. “I know.”
When the church doors opened, our friends stood up along the aisle, but the only man I saw was Victor, who looked fucking edible in his sharp tux. Victor, who didn’t look at me like I was the end of something, but rather, the beginning of everything. I loved that man. So much. When I reached him and he shook hands with my dad, I felt my heart nearly jump out of my chest. This is what it felt like to be complete. This is what a fairy tale was like. This feeling right here. This was goals. This moment.
We looked at each other for a long, quiet moment, one filled with endless possibilities, the way our future together felt.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as the priest started the mass.
“So do you,” I replied. His lips curved up.
“I know.”
I shook my head, rolling my eyes.
“You already signed the paperwork, Nicole Reuben. No going back now,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
He was so keen to mention that every five minutes since the day we’d gone to the courthouse. His face had been priceless when I’d reached for the name-change form and filled it out. I’d not taken Gabe’s last name. I didn’t really want to change mine, as I loved the name Alessi, but I knew how much it meant to Victor, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. Nicole Reuben had quite a nice ring to it.
“I would never,” I said.
“Not even if I was richer?” he asked. “Not even if I was famous?”
“No way. Been there, done that, bought the shirt.”
His eyes darkened. “I tore that shit up.”
“Victor,” I whisper-shouted, giving him a pointed look. We were at church.
“I’m just saying, my shirt’s better,” he whispered with a shrug, then smiled. “And much bigger.”