Page 88 of The Saint

I took a breath before I faced her, saw the havoc the tears had wreaked on her makeup, saw a woman irreparably broken by my confession.

She took a breath and forced her tears to steady before she reached for my hands. She squeezed them.

And I didn’t understand. Didn’t understand anything at all.

“Bastien.” Tears dripped down her face. “I know your father was a cruel man, but I didn’t know just how cruel… You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry that I didn’t do better, that I didn’t protect you and Godric, that I didn’t leave…like Fleur left. You’re so loved, Bastien. You and Godric are the single most important things to me, and I love you more than words could ever convey.” She gripped my hands together in hers and squeezed them to her chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Mom…” I’d murdered my own father, but she treated me like the victim.

“It’s okay, Bastien,” she said. “You did the right thing. I can live without him, but I could never live without you.”

22

FLEUR

I stood before the mirror and looked at myself in my gown, white with little straps over the shoulders and an opening in the front to show my cleavage. When I saw the price tag, I almost didn’t get it because I would never spend that much on a dress. Might as well buy a car at that point.

But then I remembered Bastien would want me to have whatever I wanted, so I handed over his credit card.

Delphine came into the room behind me, and within the first glance, she glowed like I was really her daughter. She came up behind me and squeezed my shoulders. “My son is going to lose it.” She smiled at me in the reflection. “Everyone is seated and ready for you, honey. Nervous?”

“No.” I wasn’t nervous at all. It was my second marriage, just months after my first divorce, but this felt different. “Not at all.”

“Good. I was a nervous wreck when I got married. Should have known what that meant.” She gave me a sad smile and stepped away. “It’s such a beautiful day. You got lucky.”

“How’s Bastien?”

“Happier than I’ve ever seen him. Smoking and drinking with his boys.”

I smirked. “Of course he is.” The only person more certain of this than me was him.

“He’s a good man. And you’re a good woman. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Me too. Your son means a lot to me.”

“I know he does. I appreciate your standing by him, even when things got tough.”

The door opened, and Godric stepped inside, looking somehow like a younger version of his brother because he was less bulky. He was in a suit and tie, and he immediately gave me a restrained glance over. “Bastien said to hurry up, so let’s go.”

Of course he did. “Alright.” I grabbed the bouquet of flowers and took his arm. He guided me through the palace, the very place where Bastien had taken me as a date to a social event and I’d tried to run because everything had moved too fast. He’d cornered me by the bathroom until he’d gotten what he wanted.

And now, he got what he wanted again—in the same place.

We moved down the hallway to the double doors that led to the gardens, rows of hundreds of people facing the flowered trellis behind Bastien and Luca at his side. When the doors opened, the music hit me from the four-piece string quartet.

Then everyone rose to look at me.

My stomach was in my throat, and Godric’s arm suddenly felt like a life raft in the middle of the ocean. I used him for balance as I walked forward on the highest heels I could buy, wantingto look Bastien in the eye when I married him. I didn’t grow nervous easily, but when five hundred people stared at me, I felt weak. My dress felt heavy, my train like a burden.

But then I looked up at him—and all those fears faded away.

Because he looked at me like I was the prize he’d earned, the trophy he would display on his mantel, the beautiful rose he’d gardened through all the seasons until it bloomed. With the handsome smile on his lips and deep affection in his eyes, it was as if no one else was there but us. It was the way he looked at me when he came home from work, the way his eyes softened before he kissed me on the hairline, the look of a man not deep in lust, but deep in love.

I smiled back and couldn’t wait to get there.

We finally made it after what felt like an eternity, and instead of taking me by the hand, he circled me with his big arms and squeezed me hard, his chin resting on my head, and he held me there for a second before he kissed me on the forehead.

I melted.

---