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“Why do you say that, love?”
London walks past us, her eyes on the man waiting for her. Malcolm sees no one but his bride. It’s there in the way he walks forward before she makes it to the end of the aisle and kisses her without shame or pause. Not caring for tradition or what the priest has to say, a man who’s watching them with amusement and not rebuke.
“Because I caught the sight of a hickey on her neck right before she met my questioning stare, which she’s avoiding. That, and the way she shivered when he kissed her hand before taking their respective places.”
“Observant little thing.”
“For years, watching is all I did.”
“Not anymore.”
Turning my head, I meet his warm eyes and nod. “I don’t need to when you’ve brought me back to life.”
The priest chooses that moment to start the ceremony, and I face forward once again. His sermon is about love and acceptance. About opening your heart and letting go of what ails you in order to welcome what heals.
His words resonate with me.
There’s so much I want to do with my life, so much to see and enjoy, but to move forward, I need to let go. My leaving Chicago is inevitable, my being with Callum is destiny, but to move past the pain I’ve buried deep, I need to find closure.
I’m going to speak with my parents.
Something the man beside me will not be happy about, but I need it. Their lack of communication lately—since the day in Dad’s office—while welcomed—has left me thinking. I’ve questioned so much. Him. Her. And how a parent could not care or hurt those they brought into the world for personal gain?
I also miss my brothers. The most I’ve gotten out of the two in the last few months is a message here or there with a hello and we’re good.
“You okay?” Callum whispers beside me, his breath tickling my neck, and I smile. Hold back a giggle. “That serious expression on your face doesn’t sit right with me. You’re too pretty to frown.”
“I’m okay. Promise.”
“Swear?”
“I do.”
“Good, because I do too.”
His words had their desired effect and I blush, warm heat with this incorrigible need to smile, and I do. Ignoring the world around us and the two people saying their vows, I look over and give in to my desires:
I kiss his chin and then lay my head on his shoulder while his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in closer. Touching. Keeping me warm. Now, I’m home.
“My gorgeous girl,” Callum croons as we sway to the music a few hours later. Most of the guests are drunk, overfed, or heading home at this point. No one’s paying us a lick of attention in our corner of the room.
Malcolm and London didn’t stay long themselves, and Aurora never made it to the reception.
Now, it’s just us while Malcolm’s family says goodbye to those walking out of the reception hall inside of Chicago’s most coveted hotel. I’m tired and could eat, but leaving Callum’s arms isn’t something I want to do, no matter how much my feet hurt in these heels or how tight my dress is.
No one can pull me away.
“You like?” Fishing for compliments never hurt anyone, and I give him a shy smile.
“Don’t give me that bashful look.” He spins me out, twirling me fast twice before pulling me back in. “You and I both know you look simply ravishing.”
“Say that word again? Slowly this time.”
His chuckle is warm against my temple. “I quite enjoy using my accent to tempt you.”
“Tempt me how?”
“You feel like getting out of here?” Another turn, and this time when I come back into his embrace, I’m tipped back. He rights me, smirk on his lips. “We’re overdue for another date.”
