Page 111 of The Rogue and His Flower

Drix flicks his gaze away, his expression unreadable, his jaw clenched as he processes my words. “Let’s not worry about mine and Dalton’s relationship today, okay? I’ll talk to him once this wedding is out of the way and I’ve had time to process.”

“Okay,” I nod, taking his proffered hand.

“Are you ready to do this?” he asks, giving my fingers a squeeze.

“As I’ll ever be,” I say as we walk towards the entrance of the church, the soft melody of a string quartet drifting through the air.

As we step inside the church, our entrance is hidden by a huge marble pillar, and wooden panelling. Nerves churn in my stomach at the soft murmur of people talking but with Drix by my side, I feel more grounded, more capable of facing what’s to come.

As we stand there, waiting for the music to change, signalling my entrance, I steal a glance at Drix. Our eyes meet and I give him a soft smile, silently thanking him for always being my rock.

“We’re ready,” Drix says, noticing the choir boy waiting for us, and with one brief nod the processional song begins to play.

It’s not a melody I recognise, chosen by Carl like everything else about this day has been, but it is beautiful regardless. Taking a deep breath, I slide my arm through Drix’s and we step out from behind the pillar as a sea of faces turn towards us both. Some people gasp softly, others whisper words under their breath, no doubt commenting on my wedding dress, but as I walk down the aisle, all I can focus on is Dalton waiting for me at the altar, his gaze fixed intently on me, an unreadable expression on his face.

After what feels like the longest walk of my life, we finally reach Dalton who’s wearing a beautiful tailored, navy-blue suit, and a silk tie that matches the colours of my dress. I can’t help but smile at that, my cheeks heating as I raise my gaze to meet his.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and my breath catches at the sincerity in his voice.

I swallow hard, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions that only add to the intensity of the moment as we stare at one another. Beside me, Drix releases my arm, gently taking my hand in his before offering it to Dalton.

“Daisy is precious to me,” he mutters under his breath. “Do right by her.”

They exchange a look, and for a moment I think Dalton is going to say something he’ll regret, but instead he takes my hand in his and says, “I promise to do everything in my power to make Daisy happy for as long as she’ll let me.”

My stupid heart skips a beat at his words.

With one last kiss to my cheek, Drix steps away leaving us alone at the altar, and as the vicar begins speaking, the sound of his voice is dulled by the thrumming pulse of my blood thumping in my ears. Dalton faces me, his fingers gently clasping mine as his thumbs run gentle circles over the back of my hands. I’m confused by the look in his eyes, it makes me feel like I’m drowning and flying all at once, and I tear my eyes away stealing a glance at the stained-glass windows of the church, the sunlight casting a kaleidoscope of patterns across the stone floor.

“Daisy?” the vicar prompts, and I realise he’s been waiting for me to answer, that I’ve missed minutes of him speaking.

“S-sorry,” I stutter, blinking up at him.

“It’s time to recite your vows. Would you please repeat after me?” he asks before continuing.

I nod, swallowing hard as I listen intently, trying to focus.

“I, Daisy Hammer, take you Dalton Gunn to be my husband…” I repeat, my voice wavering as I look up at Dalton, feeling the gravity of this moment pulling at my soul. He squeezes my hand, his gaze unwavering as his eyes reflect a myriad of emotions that mirror my own tangled feelings. “To have and to hold from this day forward…”

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part,” the vicar continues.

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to…” I say, my throat tightening, my heart bashing against my rib cage as I swallow hard.

“To love and to cherish, until death do us part,” the vicar reminds me.

“To love and to cherish,” I whisper, tears pricking at my eyes at the words, “Until death do us part.”

Dalton’s eyes flare with heat, with a potency that makes my breath catch as I take the ring offered to me by our page boy–the child of one of Carl’s friends– and slide the wedding band onto his finger. I drop my gaze to the simple platinum ring, a sign of our commitment, and a reminder of this lie we’ve woven.

As Dalton repeats his vows, a tear escapes my cheek, the lie feeling heavy and burdensome. Dalton notices, and he raises his hand, his thumb brushing away the tear, his touch gentle, loving, which only confuses me more.

None of this is real.

It’s not real,I have to remind myself.

“To love and to cherish. Until death do us part,” Dalton finishes, his voice clear, unwavering, as he slips the ring onto my finger.

“You may now kiss the bride.” The vicar smiles, nodding at Dalton who steps forward, the heat in his gaze blazing brightly.

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