Page 77 of Gracefully Yours

Theresa had come through, and a horse-drawn sleigh waited to carry us away.

“Daniel.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I told you not to make me cry. Damn you.”

Leaning down, I kissing the tip of her nose. “I can’t help it, darling. I just want to make you happy.”

Her hand slipped into mine, the other holding tight to her bouquet, and we practically ran down the aisle as our guests cheered for us.

Everything, at least for now, was perfect.

* * *

We finished taking photos,and I’d lost count of how many times we’d kissed during them. The amount of times I’d have to hold myself back from swiping my tongue inside. All I knew was I wanted to keep kissing her, and there was still so much time left before I could reveal my last surprise of the night. Hopefully, she’d like that one as much as the horse who’d carried us away from the ceremony.

The photos of her petting the horse’s muzzle and stroking its mane were bound to be some of the best from the whole day, if only because her entire face had lit up. It wasn’t like one of Charlotte’s fake smiles—this was real. She was beaming.

I wanted her to look at me like that.

Fakeechoed through my head. Even if that was true, the show we were putting on certainly looked real. And my feelings—those were real, too.

Because I wanted this to be a proper marriage. I was going to prove it to her, too. She just needed time to see how good this would be—us, together. But this wasn’t fake—not for me. Not anymore.

“Hi, wife,” I said, dropping into the seat next to her, my hand finding hers in her lap.

“Hi, husband,” she whispered back, nibbling on her gluten-free roll.

We ordered everything with Charlotte in mind, our favorite foods—all things she could eat. The worst part of going to parties for her had always been the lack of options. So even though our guests weren’t eating gluten-free meals, it was all her favorites that now decorated her plate.

I set down the glass of champagne I’d grabbed for her before grabbing her plate and cutting her chicken up into bite-sized pieces.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she mumbled.

“Why not? I wanted to.” I’d also hated watching her struggle to try not to get anything on her dress, and if I could do anything to ease that… I would.

“Oh.” She looked up at me, and I kissed the side of her forehead. “Need anything else?”

“No.” Charlotte shook her head. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You’re my wife.”

My wife.I didn’t think I would tire of saying that. Never.

We’d both changed so much over the last month, and the last two weeks since the ski trip had been different.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d told me that night after the bar.

I’d been a fool. If I had known that I was her first, that she hadn’t been with anyone before me… I would have been more gentle. Had I made it good for her? I thought I had, but… It wasn’t what she deserved.

Tonight, at least, I’d make it special.

I hadn’t earned it, but I wanted her. I didn’t want her regretting this—regretting me. If things didn’t work out between us, Charlotte would be okay. I’d make sure of it.

But me… I’d never be the same. If I was being honest with myself, I hadn’t been the same since that night in August when she’d walked out of the hotel bathroom before the rehearsal dinner.

I still couldn’t explain what had happened, if she’d felt the way I did that night. When we’d locked eyes, something fundamental had changed between us. I’d wanted to kiss her as soon as I saw that shimmery pink lip gloss swiped over her lips.

And after two glasses of wine…Fuck it.My resolve had been gone.

But then she’d shut me out. And it had broken a piece of me when she’d tried to avoid me. What was she so afraid of?

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