Page 122 of Unexpectedly Mine

During the ceremony, while everyone else’s attention was on the bride and groom, I couldn’t take my eyes off Emma. The way she smiled radiantly when she walked down the aisle, her silk champagne colored dress clinging to every curve. Or her dabbing at tears while she watched her cousin and friend exchange vows. Then when she meticulously adjusted the train of Chloe’s dress for photos, and paused the photographer mid-session to help Chloe reapply her lipstick after Barrett had kissed it off.

And that’s only in the last ten minutes.

Every moment I’m with her, I’m soaking in her smiles, her laugh, the way she makes the world brighter and my chest lighter.

Most of the guests have gone on to the cocktail hour that’s preceding dinner while the wedding party finishes up with photos. I’m still seated in the audience watching the photoshoot when Emma’s dad sits down beside me.

“Beautiful wedding.” He nods toward Chloe and Barrett locked in an embrace at the altar while the photographer snaps a photo.

“It is.” I nod. We haven’t spoken since Tuesday, since I confessed my love for Emma. Confirmed what he already knew had happened in Vegas.

“When Emma was little, she’d go to weddings with me. She wanted to be my assistant. She mostly just ended up eating cake under the table.”

I smile thinking of a young Emma hiding under a white-clothed table eating wedding cake.

“She loved weddings, wanted to be a part of the magic. She started planning her own wedding when she was six. Cutting out clippings from magazines, making scrapbooks and poster boards. When Pinterest was developed, she went digital.”

I swallow thickly, I know about the binders and clippings. Emma wanted a wedding like this. Our wedding in Vegas was nothing like she had imagined.

“Then she eloped with me in Vegas.” I fill in what he’s not saying.

“That’s the beauty of growing up. Of discovering who you are as a person. Your dreams change.”

But have Emma’s dreams changed? Or does she want to undo our Vegas wedding so she can have a do over?

“I think Emma focused so much on the wedding she wanted because the guys she was with were never right for her. But with you, it was different. It wasn’t about the wedding.”

“Three days ago, she told me she wanted the annulment. That we should discuss it before I leave.”

“If that’s not what you want, then you need to tell her how you feel.” Philip stands and passes in front of me to make his way to the aisle.

I know he’s right. I know what I want. Emma.

But she wants the annulment.

Or does she?

When she left Wednesday morning she was rushing to her meeting, but she was so excited when she said she wanted to talk to me. I can’t imagine that she would have been that thrilled to discuss getting an annulment. But when she came home, she was completely different. It’s like she had shut down. Even when she played it off that nothing was wrong, I could tell something was. I was about to confess my feelings and she cut me off. It doesn’t make sense.

My eyes lift to find her staring back at me. When our eyes connect, she quickly pushes a beaming smile onto her face. It’s not her genuine smile. But it’s not her smile I’m focusing on, it’s her eyes. They tell a different story. Sadness. Hurt. Longing. Fear.

Everything clicks into place.

Emma’s pushing me away because that’s easier than the thought of me rejecting her. She must have thought I was breaking things off with her so she decided to beat me to it. Clearly from the miserable look in her eyes, being the one to ask for the annulment has not relieved any of the pain.

I take in a deep breath; hope expands my chest.

Emma turns away, the group is moving locations for another round of photographs. Fuck. I want to run over to her, pull her away and make this right. Tell her how I feel, no interruptions this time.

But then I think about where we are. Emma’s got a speech to give and there’s all the bridesmaid duties she’s a part of. While I’m anxious to fix things with her, I know I need to wait until after the reception.

“And Griffin?” Philip stops in the aisle and looks back at me.

“Yeah?”

“You have my blessing.”

I nod. “Thank you, sir.”

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