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We share a smile.
And then, I’m face to face with Arthur Kensington in person. I’ve split my time between LA and New York leading up to the wedding, but none of the time I’ve spent in Manhattan has been around Oliver’s father. I wasn’t even sure if he’d be here.
When I asked Oliver if his father was attending, his response was “Probably.”
The picture I had in my head was a villain, some gnarled monster with dead eyes and an icy heart. But I’m staring at what Oliver will look like in thirty years. The resemblance between him and his father is uncanny. Same eyes, same jawline, same proud stance.
“Hello, Hannah.”
“Hi, Mr. Kensington.”
His expression is shrewd as he studies me intently. I resist the urge to shift under his scrutiny. Undoubtedly, he’s thinking about all the ways I’m lacking. In comparison to his other daughter-in-law, I’m contributing nothing to the Kensington name.
“We’re family. You’re welcome to call me Arthur.” His smile is warm, and I can’t tell if that’s genuine or feigned. I should have guessed he’d be charming.
“I didn’t think you treated your family different from anyone else, Mr. Kensington.”
Arthur’s smile tightens. “You’re wrong. I treat them worse.”
I’m taken totally off guard by his response. In my experience, narcissists are rarely self-aware.
He reaches into the pocket of his navy suit, extracting a rectangular velvet box. “These belonged to my late wife, Elizabeth. She’d want Oliver’s bride to have something of hers.”
“Thank you,” I say automatically, flipping the lid open. A pair of diamond earrings twinkle in their settings, the jewels almost blinding in the sunshine. There’s a central diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller ones. The design matches the engagement ring Scarlett is wearing. “Wow. They’re stunning.”
“I had them custom-made to match her ring,” Arthur says. “Gave them to her on our wedding day.”
There’s a softer note to his voice, but any emotion is carefully shuttered away by the time I look up.
“You should stow those for safekeeping. They’re worth a small fortune.”
He doesn’t want anyone else to see them, I realize. Nodding, I slip the jewelry into my bag for the plane, hiding the thoughtful gesture. Wondering how much else Arthur hides behind.
After we say the rest of our goodbyes, a car takes me and Oliver straight from our reception to the airport. It’s a short drive, about twenty minutes in total.
I regret not changing out of my wedding dress after about five. I wanted to savor wearing it, since this is the only occasion where I will. But the yards of fabric take up most of the backseat, bunching around my waist and around my legs.
Oliver casts me an amused smile but doesn’t comment. He carefully helps me out of the backseat once we arrive at the tarmac. We’re taking Kensington Consolidated’s private plane, which I’ve only been on once before.
Uniformed attendants rush around, loading up the plane with our luggage and doing last-minute safety checks. I climb the four steps that lead inside the plane, surveying the luxurious surroundings.
I drop my bag on the couch and walk over to a window seat, kicking off my heels and peering outside. Oliver has refused to tell me where he’s taking me for my honeymoon, so I had to guess about what to pack. That’s reflected in the four suitcases that are being carted from the car.
Oliver climbs onto the plane a few minutes later. “We should be leaving in a couple of minutes.”
“Can you hand me my phone?” I ask, pointing to my bag. “I want to take photos of the plane.”
“Why?” Oliver asks, looking amused as he grabs my purse and starts to dig through it.
“Have youseenit?” I ask, digging my toes into the soft carpet.
“What’s this?”
I glance over to find him holding the small velvet box I slipped into my bag before leaving our reception. I bite my bottom lip, not sure how he’ll react. “Your dad gave them to me as we were leaving. They were your mom’s.”
He opens the box, then quickly shuts it. “Yeah, I recognize them.”
“I don’t have to wear them…”
