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“Love is what remains when all the fuzzy feelings disappear, and you’re still ready to wage war to protect that person…Jesus, have you ever had to sacrifice for anything?”
“Are you all right, sugar?” Mom asked from her position in the massage chair. I glanced over at her, wondering how she could possibly tell I’d been chewing over the argument Cannon and I had had, but she’d always been good at reading me.
I smiled at the spa specialists who were currently giving us both pedicures. Something my mother and I had scheduled months ago. The day before the wedding prep. And now I wasn’t even sure there would be a wedding. Rehearsal was tonight. Would that be the place we worked things out? Where the skies cleared and the clouds parted, and Cannon would finally realize my love was real and raw and one-hundred percent his?
“I’m fine,” I finally answered.
“It’s normal to get nervous before your wedding,” Mom said.
“I’m not nervous,” I said. “Besides, we’re already married.” Or, at least, I thought we’d been. My father’s news had hit us both over the head, and now I truly didn’t know what to believe. I’d pled my case, and then my mother had walked in, and Cannon had graciously told me to go so she wouldn’t find out the truth. And I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t not go through with our pre-wedding plans, not when they meant so much to her.
So I put on my bravest, happiest face, and talked about happy things.
Like the fact that she’d be getting the kidney she needed and deserved. The one that would lengthen her life. Allow her to possibly see her grandchildren, if that day ever came for me or Anne.
I smiled, my memory taking me back to when Cannon and I had compared Cerberus to a baby, and the discussion thereafter. My future didn’t make sense without Cannon in it. It just didn’t. But if he didn’t love me…well, that was another matter altogether. One I feared I’d find out about sooner rather than later.
One spa treatment led to another, the rest of my bridal party having treatments done in succession until we were all sparking and ready for rehearsal dinner. I hadn’t seen or heard from Cannon since our argument, and a small piece of me was terrified he’d used that incredible speed of his and bolted. Despite the news of my mother’s fortune on the donor list, I didn’t want to put her through the stress of a missing groom.
But I should’ve known better. Should’ve known Cannon would never do that because I found him waiting by the ballroom door, clad in a luscious all black suit—he’d even put on a tie—just for me.
“You look stunning,” I said, the rawness from our fight evident in my voice.
He held his arm out for me after giving my mother a quick hug. “You’re radiant,” he said as I looped my arm in his. He led me through the ballroom, no mention of our argument, nothing but a firm smile—or as much of one as he’d offer a room full of people—planted on his lips as we were stopped by person after person. All congratulating us. All over the moon happy for us. And if I didn’t think too hard on it, I almost believed them. Yes, their excitement was genuine, but deep down, I could almost make myself believe this was real. That in one day I’d marry the man of my dreams and we’d live happily ever after.
I’m not your happily ever after.
Cannon’s words from months ago echoed through my mind, and I tried not to cringe.
He had warned me.
Told me not to fall for him. Told me in his list of rules, many of which we’d broken—together.
Maybe I had imagined it all—the love I thought I’d felt.
But he’d opened up to me, had given me pieces of himself he’d never given anyone else. That had to count for something. Maybe I should take those pieces and be grateful I’d received that much. Maybe I had yet to prove myself enough to him. Maybe—
“Persephone?” My name on his lips drew me out of my thoughts, and I found him reaching for me, somewhere in my battling we’d gotten separated. “It’s time for dinner.”
I nodded and took his hand, allowed him to lead me up to the table positioned on a stage off to the right of the tables situated around the ballroom floor. Took my seat and thanked my server as food and champagne was delivered all around.
I could barely eat from the twisting in my stomach, but I forced bites down, knowing my mother watched me with weighted eyes. My father too. They could tell, even if both of them didn’t know the full truth of my anxiousness.
Cannon ate in silence, but touched me sweetly, an arm around my shoulder, a chaste kiss on my forehead. All for show. All so my mother’s heart wouldn’t be broken.
