Page 105 of Forbidden Dark Vows

I face him in my wedding dress, feeling like his little princess all over again.

As a child, my dad always read books to me at bedtime. He would make a den in the corner of my room with cushions on the floor, blankets thrown across the backs of chairs, and tiny lanterns turning everything golden. This was where my love of books developed, during those evenings spent listening to my dad reading aloud fairy tales about glass slippers and fairy godmothers and charming princes.

Funny how the feel of the wedding gown swishing around my legs has taken me back to those special moments. I can still see the images in my favorite book, and now, here I am, playing the part of the princess in my own happy-ever-after.

“You look amazing too, Dad.”

He stands still while I straighten his tie, his eyes on me, a smile tugging his lips upward. “I’ve missed this, Ruby, you fussing over my tie like a mother hen.”

I stand back and check that it’s straight and neat. “You loosened it on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Am I that predictable?” He looks so forlorn, so wide-eyed and innocent like a child, that I throw my arms around him, careful not to make him lose his balance.

“Hey, what’s that for? You’ll crumple your dress.”

“You’re worth getting crumpled for, Dad.”

“How can I argue with that?” I give him a twirl while he admires the wedding gown. “There were times when I never thought that I would get to do this for my little girl.”

“No, Dad. No sad thoughts today. Only happy ones.”

“That’s probably the easiest thing anyone has ever asked me to do.” He offers me his arm, and I take it. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

We could’ve made a grand entrance down the sweeping staircase in the building, but I wanted to make it as comfortable as possible for my dad, so instead, we walk slowly to a wide door and take a deep breath. Harry is waiting on the other side for me. Our friends and families will have taken their seats, waiting for the door to open, handkerchiefs ready to dry their eyes if they’re anything like me.

Only two people will be missing: my mom and Harry’s dad.

My mom stopped calling the office a week ago. Karl went AWOL after his trip to Chicago when I overheard him talking to mymom in my hospital room. Harry doesn’t think that they’re together, but the past six weeks have been such a whirlwind that I haven’t even had a chance to think about them.

I’m sad my mom won’t get to see me in my dress, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that my mom isn’t the person I thought she was, and the real Celia Jackson doesn’t deserve to be the mother of this bride.

Music strikes up on the other side of the door, and I reach up to kiss my dad’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” He trembles as the door opens, and we step into the salon where I will shortly become Mrs. Weiss.

I never thought that I would be this nervous on my wedding day but seeing Harry in his tailored silver-gray suit at the front of the room with his best man Ronnie standing next to him, everything that we’ve done since we met flashes before my eyes like I’m drowning. The skating rink, Harry’s hospital room, Edinburgh, the pizza picnic. It feels like I’ve only known him for a few minutes, and it feels like I’ve known him for a lifetime.

I walk on autopilot. I don’t see the faces of the people in the seats on either side of the aisle. I’m waiting for the moment when Harry turns around to face me, and when he does, when I see his beautiful smile, my heart almost jumps out of my chest.

Without knowing how I got there, my dad hands me over to my soon-to-be-husband, kisses my cheek, and stands aside with Ronnie.

I glance at Harry, and our eyes meet. “Okay?” he mouths, and I nod. I’m grinning and I know my cheeks are going to ache like crazy later, but I can’t stop myself.

This is it.

We repeat our vows in front of the celebrant, and I don’t remember a word of them. All I can feel is Harry’s arm brushing mine. All I can hear is my heartbeat playing its own exciting tune.

Then, we’re walking back down the aisle to the banquet hall where we’ll greet our guests with glasses of champagne, and eat food that I won’t taste, and dance to music that I won’t hear. For a few minutes, we’re alone in the hall, and Harry holds me close to his chest and kisses my lips. “I love you, Mrs. Weiss.”

“I love you, Mr. Weiss.”

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“Once or twice.”

I lean against him, and I know that I never have to be nervous again because Harry is the rock that will hold me up, the sunshine on rainy days, the star that will never go out.

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