“Boss, what’s wrong?” Vince asked as I blinked, wiping at my eyes. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I’m going to be a father,” I whispered, looking at Vince and then Rita. “Alix is pregnant.”
Rita’s beaming grin and Vince’s nod of happiness gave me assurance, and Vince clapped me on the back. “Well then, Dad, let’s make sure this baby is started off right, with a loving mother and father that are properly married.”
“Then we get to explain that his uncle, who’s less than a year older than him, is also his cousin,” Rita said with glee. “Can I do that job?”
“Of course, Aunt Rita,” I said, smiling. “Vince is right. Rita, I’ll see you inside.”
Vince and I went into the sanctuary, where the small gathering was already seated. While we’d only invited fifty people, it was a pretty high-profile society event, with three NBA players, an NFL pro-bowler, and one each from the WNBA, MLB, and NHL. And of course, more than holding her own, was Layla. “Hey, Mom,” I said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Have a read, you’ll love it.”
Layla looked at the envelope and nodded, her belly swelling hugely underneath her dress. She was living in Sunnyvale, much closer to us than before, and had found herself a nice house in a gated community. We’d visited a few times, and she was moving on. At least, she wasn’t crying at night any more. “Thanks. Now go get married, okay?”
I grinned and took my place at the front of the sanctuary, next to the altar. “Ready, son?” the minister asked. I nodded. “Then let’s begin.”
The organ music started up, and the bridesmaids made their way in. First was Karla McDonald, who’d flown in from Australia especially for the event after making the cover of Vogue for the second time just the month before. She and Alix had patched up their friendship. I was glad she was there.
Next was Rita as the maid of honor, her confident walk and demeanor causing heads to turn even away from the beautiful model that had preceded her.
The organ music changed again, and the classic Wedding March started up. I watched in anticipation as Alix came into the doorway, resplendent in her white satin dress. The long train dragged from her waist, allowing her soft, glowing skin to show through the thin lace on the back. As Alix walked, she rubbed her tummy and smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.
“My Prince, my Kade,” she whispered as she came up.
“My Queen,” I answered, using the new name I’d told her about. “Ready?”
Alix nodded and we both turned to the minister. The ceremony itself went like you’d expect, and to be honest I didn’t remember much of it. All I do remember, after the kiss, was stopping to hug Layla, who had heaved herself out of her seat to stand through the ceremony. She patted my cheek and kissed both of us.
“Your father would be very proud,” she said. “Of both of you.”
“I love you, Mom,” Alix said. “So much.”
“I love you too, honey. And you, Kade.”
I hugged Layla again and turned to Alix, who’d turned her head to say something to Rita. As she was turned, I saw the tattoo on her left shoulder blade, visible through the lace of her dress, that had become her trademark and her symbol.
A white rose, rimmed in red. A symbol of royalty, a symbol of a queen.
A Tudor Rose.
My Tudor Rose.
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