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GWENDOLYN
I took a deep breath as I stared at the doors that opened to the back patio of the Rosewood Ridge Retreat Center. It was hard to believe that just three months ago I’d passed through these doors as my sister’s maid of honor, and now I was the bride.
“Ready?” Sierra asked.
She was serving as the events coordinator on this property. I was helping her a lot these days, though, in the hopes that she’d bring me on as her first employee. Now that I was getting married, my goal was to move to a more conventional work schedule.
I gave Sierra a nod, and she opened the door, straightening my veil, then giving me the go-ahead. The music shifted into “Here Comes the Bride” as the few dozen wedding guests stood. Many of these people were friends and family I’d made since moving to Rosewood Ridge.
My parents were here, though. They sat in the front row with my brother-in-law. I’d made it clear that I was walking down the aisle alone. It was a show of independence. It was something I had to do.
But my gaze immediately skipped over the crowd, quickly landing on my fiancé, the love of my life. He stood next to a trellis that was very similar to the one we passed through the day we’d first met.
As great as it felt to show my independence, I’d breathe a little easier once I was at the front, facing my husband-to-be. He always encouraged me to do my own thing and find my own way, but there was nothing like coming home to him.
The look in Julian’s eyes as I approached melted my heart. How had I gone twenty-three years of my life without knowing this man existed? In that warm stare, I felt what it was like to be truly loved.
I handed my bouquet to my sister as Julian and I turned to face the preacher. I might not be a huge fan of the man she married, but she was still my sister. Sometimes I even caught a glimpse of envy in her eyes as she looked at me. She wanted to break free, deep down. She wanted to make her own choices in life. But it was tough to make that move.
“Gwendolyn,” Julian said when the preacher prompted us to say our vows. “I feel like the day I started breathing was the day I saw you standing right over there at your sister’s wedding. I never could’ve imagined that just three months later, you’d be my wife. I’m the luckiest man alive. And now the town has fallen in love with you as much as I have.”
I wouldn’t say that exactly, but my coworkers here at the retreat center were more of a family to me than my own. They supported me without squashing the very things that made me unique.
And then it was my turn to speak my vows. I took a deep breath and said the words I knew would be tough for my family to hear. But it was time to finally speak my mind.
“Everyone had good intentions,” I said, “but I lived my life in a bubble. Everything was controlled, even before I met you. I knew I had to get away—had to get out from under my parents’ control.”
My back was to them, so I couldn’t see them from where I stood. Still, I could picture my mom’s jaw dropping and my father shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His country club buddies weren’t here, but he’d still care what complete strangers thought of him. That sort of thing had always been more important to him than anything, including his family.
“When I met you, it was like everything clicked into place,” I said. “You showed me that someone could love me unconditionally, you let me be me, and you still loved me even when I did something silly.”
My parents were forgotten by then. My attention had shifted to my present and my future, and that was where it would stay.
“I love everything about you, from your laugh to your corny jokes to your fierce protectiveness of everyone you care about,” I continued.
Not control, just protectiveness, I added silently. It took me a while to fully grasp the difference.
“And when we have kids, we’re going to be the best parents ever, raising them in the best town on the planet,” I said.
I smiled at that, and it brought a smile to his face too. Maybe not the most eloquent words but putting my feelings in writing had been harder than I expected, especially knowing those words would be recited aloud in front of my friends and family.
“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” I gripped his hands tighter, and he gave me a squeeze in response.
That said it all. He was mine until the day I died, and I was his too.
The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur, and before I knew it, we were posing for photos just as we’d done that day three months ago. I remembered looking for him that day, not seeing him, then sneaking away from the reception.
By the time we cut the cake, I was itching to rush out of here and make love like we did that day in the garden. But that had to wait until the wedding night. We had the first dance and then we had to make the rounds.
As I went from person to person, thanking them for coming, I was all too aware of my family sitting over in the corner, not speaking to anyone else. Even my sister had fallen into her role as a daughter and wife, staring forlornly down at her plate of food. By the time I made my way to their table, there was too much distance between me and my husband. I needed him by my side to take this on.
No, I could do this. It was the whole point of being independent.
I took a deep breath and walked directly to where my parents were seated. “Thank you for coming today.”
I said that in the same tone I’d used with the last three tables. Actually, that wasn’t true. I’d had a much warmer and enthusiastic greeting for them.
“Is that how you really feel?” My mother pushed her cake away and clasped her hands on the table. Then she stared me down—another attempt at intimidation. “What you said in your vows about us?”
