I don’t tell her that patience is what got me to this day or that Alexander is worth the wait. I don’t bother with the long version when that’s the story for us. The short version is much more spectacular, full of twists and turns, bad guys and good. It’s much more exciting.
I don’t need exciting anymore. I’ve had more than my fair share in this life. I need my husband to kiss me at night like we may not have a tomorrow. I need sunshine with my coffee and a warm smile that hasn’t woken up enough to tip into arrogance. I need strong arms to hold me when I’m weak, and I need the strength to love a man that will love me so hard it hurts to think of life without him. I want simple things like routine, everyone home for dinner, and a house full of laughter. I don’t know if I’ll ever get these things. Needs versus wants, versus what life has in store for us. All to be determined, but with Alexander by my side I will never want nor need anything.
What I do love and appreciate is Madeline Kingwood. What she went through to ensure the safety of her son. What she lost to save his soul and to make sure he got what was his due—I’ll be forever grateful. Not because I need the money. I only have Alexander on this special day because she was brave enough to sacrifice herself in the past to save her son for the present.
Neely and Jason have said I’m like her, but her light is almost too blinding. Her strength almost too intense. I love her dearly, but I can’t live in her shadow. I’m content in the sunlight beside her.
We’ve spent many hours with her grieving, crying for the events her death caused, yet thankful in the same breath.
I’m grateful for so much. Somehow, in the midst of my chaos and recovery, I gained a deeper friendship with Shelly, and an open affection and enjoyment with my mother. Life has been put into perspective. It’s precious, and the time we have is never guaranteed.
Madeline dotes on her son, and I sit back and giggle. He acts like he hates being treated like a child, but he’s her child, and I know deep down, he’s just as grateful as I am. This second chance he’s been given is not taken for granted. Before this day, my life was complete the night Alexander came back to me, but I’m eager to start this new chapter too.
A sense of calm washes over me. “I’m ready.”
“Sweetie?”
“Yes, Mom?”
“I know you’re already married to Alex, but amuse your dad and pretend this is the first time. He may be stubborn, but he’s also been an emotional mess. You’re still his baby girl, after all.”
Another don’t I don’t feel the need to clarify—this is my first wedding day, but with all the legal entanglements we’ve found ourselves in, it’s best to keep that to ourselves. “Okay.” I grab an extra tissue for my dad, and we walk into the hall to join him.
My dad was a hard sell, but Alexander managed to do it. I think he could sell the moon a set of moonbeams if he was determined enough. He went to my dad the day after we were saved and asked for his permission to marry his daughter. The obvious questions and accusations came from my understanding of how it played out, but within thirty minutes my mom said my dad was taking him out for a beer.
From what my mom overheard, Alexander managed to prove he was nothing like his father and would always treasure his daughter. Promises were made alongside apologies. My dad accepted and gave his permission. Although he believes we eloped months ago, he said he wanted to be a part of a ceremony and celebrate the union.
Alexander let him pay for the day, not because he wanted him to, but because my dad insisted. When I see my dad dressed in his tux, his smile is easy, though the day clearly makes him as emotional as the rest of us. The shine in his eyes tells me what he can’t articulate. “You look just like your mother. So beautiful.”
I hug him. “Thank you, Daddy.”
His bear hugs are the best, the feeling taking me back to my childhood when my dad made everything better. Releasing me, he wipes his eyes on a handkerchief from his pocket. “Promise me this is everything you want, and I’ll never say otherwise.”
I kiss his cheek. The marriage is important but that doesn’t complete me. Only one thing . . . or person does. “Alexander is everything I want.” Reaching up, I wipe lipstick from his cheek. “He is everything I need. He loves me, Daddy.”
“He does, and although I’m not sure about all that happened, I know I owe him for keeping you safe.”
Yeah, my parents don’t need to know every detail, but they were by my side while I gave my statement regarding April. I thought the first attack was hard to talk about, but talking about that woman conjures nightmares.
They sat in horror, but my mom took Alexander’s hand when I said how I thought I was going to die, but Alexander saved me.
He saved me.
The soul that was dying without him, he saved by fighting to stay alive, by living for me while I lived for him.
I said it best when I said star-crossed doesn’t have to mean doomed. We’ve proven it doesn’t.
My dad takes my hand, and says, “My only advice to you is stay strong even when you feel weak.”
“I am strong.” I’m Alexander’s girl, after all.
He nods toward the double doors. “You ready?”
“I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”
The double doors of the terrace swing open and at the head of the aisle stands the man my parents warned me about. Thank God I didn’t listen to them.
This time I have no fear. I already know what I’m willing to do for him. I know the man I’m marrying, and I accept him for who he is.
He’s traded a leather jacket for a tuxedo, but the reaction deep inside me in seeing him is no less intense than the first time I saw him. Standing at an intersection that would determine the rest of my life, in the rain with a half-eaten candy bar, I knew I was his and he would be mine.
So without fear, I walk right into his life again, hands steady like his love, like the first time I ever met him . . .
The air is sucked from around us and filled with his presence. He’s cocky and powerful, owning every muscle in his body as he stands tall before me. “Hey.” Husky, deep, and confident.
“Hey.”
38
Alexander
The privilege of standing in front of this woman, my match in every way, my partner in crime, my soul mate, isn’t lost on me. We attempt to follow the rules by holding hands in front of our friends and families.
Fuck the rules.
I take Sara Jane’s face in my hands, holding her like the gentle Firefly she is, angle her toward me, and close the distance between us. “You once asked me if I had to choose—”