AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned that to Elio. How would anyone even know that?
I start walking, letting the tears roll down my cheeks because there’s no way for me to stop them. I stare straight ahead and don’t get a full view of the wedding hall just yet. After entering from the antechamber, I’ve come at this larger room from the side. I’m walking behind the last row of seats right now, and I can see a sharp turn in the path ahead that will take me down the main aisle to Elio. I hear wooden benches creaking, and gasps and murmurs, as people begin to turn their heads towards me, but I don’t look back at any of them. I just stare at the floor ahead, focusing on putting one sparkly shoe in front of the other as the notes of my late mother’s favourite song swirl around me.
I’m almost at the place where I need to turn. But, oddly, the floor here isn’t uniform. There’s a pair of large feet encased in beautiful black dress shoes at the beginning of the main aisle. I finally start to pull my eyes up from the ground. Up over long legs and a pair of hands hanging loose at the side. Black gloved hands.
My teary gaze snaps right up to his face.
“Elio.” I mouth the word instead of truly saying it. I don’t think I could force a word out of my throat even if I wanted to right now.
He doesn’t reply right away. He just angles his elbow towards me, as if he wants me to take his arm. And I do it, because I’m not sure I can remain standing otherwise.
“Your father already gave you to me a long time ago,” he says quietly, his gaze fierce and heavy with meaning. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you walk down this aisle alone.”
His arm feels so hard and solid linked with mine. His touch tender as he dabs away my tears. Together, we turn towards the front of the room.
For the first time, I actually look up enough to take in the vast space. And it truly takes my breath away.
The walls in here are almost entirely windows, the glass panes arranged in arrow-like shapes that lead the eye upward, creating a cathedral-like effect. That effect is only amplified by the high, arching ceiling, beams of wood adding a slightly rustic flare. The sun has emerged from heavy winter clouds, and it pours through the glass, warming every surface, making everything shimmer in a way that feels almost sacred. The benches are carved from the same wood the beams above are made of, and luscious flowers are draped along their backs, petals scattered everywhere. The wedding guests, none of whom I recognize beyond the wedding party and Elio’s aunt and uncle, are standing, watching us, hushed as Elio and I pass them by.
But there isn’t silence in the room. An Eala Bhàn is still playing, and I notice the live string quartet just off to the side.
“This song,” I choke out. “How did you know?”
“Didn’t I ever tell you?” Elio says, looking down at me from the side. “This was the song I heard you playing the very first time I saw you. And then I learned that your mamma loved it. So it felt fitting.”
I shake my head, a tiny movement so as to not draw much attention from anyone besides my groom. I had no idea. I never remembered or thought to ask what song he heard me playing that summer day outside my father’s house.
But Elio remembered.
When we reach the front where the bridesmaids are standing in a row on one side, Valentina comes forward to take my bouquet of flowers from me, leaving both my hands free to be swept up into Elio’s. Elio doesn’t have four groomsmen to match up with my side – it’s just Curse standing up there. Elio and I step up onto the platform, standing facing each other beneath a banner of blooms. A single white petal from over our heads drifts down, fluttering like a feather between us. I watch its floaty trajectory until it hits the ground.
And then my eyes meet Elio’s.
There’s ferocity in his gaze. Pure, possessive intention. His fingers may be closed around mine, but it’s his gaze that truly holds me there.
It’s a gaze that tells me, no more running. No more waiting.
I am his.
And it’s time to prove it to the world.
Chapter 39
Elio
My impatience from the morning is completely gone. Now, I’m savouring every fucking second that I’m standing here with Deirdre, staring down at her in her veil and her dress, knowing that it’s my come soaking her white panties. Every time the wedding officiant – and old man with snow white hair and a deep, resonant voice – asks her if she plans to do something (honour me, cherish me, trust me as her husband) and she answers “I do,” it’s like I’m fucking reborn.
I keep my eyes locked on hers when I answer the officiant’s questions for myself.
I do.
I do.
I do.
Curse comes forward with the rings. I slide Deirdre’s on first, admiring the diamond and platinum gleam on her finger and the way the wedding band matches so perfectly with her other ring.
Deirdre takes my wedding band from Curse, and clearly has a moment of hesitation about the glove situation. But then, her brow clearing of confusion like clouds moving out of a bright sky, she slides the ring over top of my glove and onto my ring finger. Just as I’d intended.
