That evening at home, I complained to Richard about it. He was leaning on the study sofa, fumbling with the complicated snaps on Leonardo's onesie, his movements clumsy in an endearing way.
"Not one you liked?" Richard didn't look up, still battling the snaps with furrowed brows, like he was navigating a difficult merger negotiation.
"Nope. Either too much, too conservative, or..." I sighed and walked over to take over, undoing the snaps in seconds and changing Leonardo into comfortable pajamas. "Something's just missing. Maybe I'm being too picky."
Richard watched me lift the little one into my arms, gently patting his back. His gaze lingered on me for a moment. "Then stop looking."
"What?" I froze.
"I said, stop looking." He stood, walked to his desk, pulled out a thick sketchbook from the drawer, and handed it to me.
I took it, confused, and opened it. Inside were page after page of pencil sketches. Mermaid cuts, ball gowns, A-lines... Each page had a small date in the corner. The earliest was from my second trimester, back when Richard and I were still walking on eggshells around each other. The last few pages showed a nearly complete wedding dress design. Strapless, incredibly clean lines, but the bodice was lace with vine and star patterns spreading from the chest to the shoulders. A deep V-back, cinched waist, and a multi-layered tulle skirt.
"Richard, you drew these?" My voice came out hoarse.
"Just something I sketched in my spare time." He leaned against the desk, hands in his trouser pockets, tone casual.
I stared at those drafts, my fingers tracing the pencil strokes he'd left on the paper, my heart turning to mush.
"Richard Winston," I stood on tiptoes and kissed his jaw, "you're a goddamn romantic genius. This is the one. I want this one."
His tense shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and his lips curved into a genuine, satisfied smile. "I knew you would."
On the wedding day,we only invited our closest family and friends. When I walked down the path in Blackwood Manor's back garden—paved with fresh white roses and baby's breath—in that one-of-a-kind dress, I could feel every eye fixed on me, filled with wonder.
Then I saw Richard, standing under the white flower arch.
He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his posture straight, hair slicked back to reveal his broad forehead and deep-set eyes. He watched me from afar, his expression one I'd never seen before—an almost breathless focus mixed with undisguised awe and bottomless tenderness. God, Richard looking like this was devastatingly handsome.
The traditional, slow Wedding March was playing. But as I reached the middle of the path, about to approach him, the music subtly shifted. I looked up in surprise to see a white grand piano beside the flower arch. And sitting at it, long fingers moving across the black and white keys—was Richard. When had he left his spot and gotten to the piano? I hadn't noticed at all.
Richard tilted his head slightly, his gaze meeting mine, a faint smile of triumph playing at his lips. God, I loved Richard like this.
Gina laughed softly in my ear and squeezed my arm. "See? I told you he'd learn."
The ceremony was officiatedby a kind-faced old priest.
Sunlight filtered through gaps in the white flower arch, casting warm patches of light on us. The air was fragrant with roses and grass. Guests sat quietly in white chairs, their gazes focused on us with warmth.
The old priest opened his heavy Bible, his voice gentle yet solemn. "Richard Winston, do you take Natalie Green to be your wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and protect her, as you love yourself, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, remaining faithful to her until death?"
Richard turned to me. His gray-blue eyes were like a calm ocean in the sunlight, clearly reflecting my image. He looked at me without hesitation, his voice clear and firm.
"I do."
The old priest smiled and nodded, then turned to me. "Natalie Green, do you take Richard Winston to be your husband, to love him, comfort him, honor and protect him, as you love yourself, in sickness and in health, in wealth and in poverty, remaining faithful to him until death?"
I looked at the man before me—the man who'd once scared me, who I'd run from, but who I'd ultimately come to love deeply, rely on, and want to spend my life with. He gazed at me intently, his usually stern face impossibly soft now. I could seethe undisguised anticipation in his eyes, and a barely perceptible nervousness.
I took a deep breath, keeping my voice steady but unmistakably sincere.
"I do."
The old priest smiled warmly. "Please exchange rings as a witness to your vows."
Emma stepped forward with a deep blue velvet tray. Richard took the brilliant pear-shaped diamond ring and carefully, reverently slid it onto my left ring finger. The cool platinum circled my finger, the diamond refracting dazzling light in the sun. Then I took the men's ring and placed it on Richard's left ring finger.
"Now, united by the sacred bond of marriage, the husband may kiss his wife."
