Page 66 of Daddy's Dirty Little Secret

EPILOGUE: AMELIA

The wedding planner kept asking if I wanted more time, but I just smiled and told her I was ready. Truthfully, I had been ready since the day Xander told me he wasn’t going to lose me. Everything after that had felt like waiting for this moment—one final, sunny afternoon surrounded by family, friends, and a dress that somehow still fit, even with the baby bump just starting to round out under the silk.

Aunt Julia adjusted the flower comb in my hair for the third time while humming something I didn’t recognize. She had a mouthful of safety pins and absolutely no intention of letting anyone else near my veil. Claire stood behind her holding the backup bouquet, chatting with the makeup artist about how proud she was of me. Their energy made the bridal suite feel a little like a parade float in motion—chaotic, loud, and entirely full of love.

I glanced at the mirror and gave my reflection a nervous once-over. The dress wasn’t traditional. It had a square neckline, simple sleeves, and no train. I didn’t want anything that would make me trip. The bouquet sat waiting on the table, pale peach and ivory roses bound with silk. My stomach did a small flip—not nerves, just the baby reminding me I wasn’t the only one excited to get down the aisle.

The door opened, and my dad peeked in, already dressed in his suit and looking stiff enough to pass for royalty. Julia stepped back with a satisfied sigh as Claire gave me a quick hug.

“You look like a dream,” my dad said as he crossed the room. “Like your mom would’ve wanted to see.”

I took his arm, feeling steadier with him next to me. “Let’s get married then.”

The walk down the aisle was shorter than it looked in rehearsal. My eyes went straight to Xander, who stood at the other end of the archway like he was carved from certainty. He wore a crisp black suit and had this soft, knowing look on his face that made my heart skip and settle all at once.

As Dad gave me away, he didn’t try to say anything poetic. He just squeezed my fingers and whispered that he loved me, which was all I needed to hear.

The ceremony passed in a blur of vows, quiet laughter, and whispered promises I never wanted to forget. Xander’s hands never shook. Mine only did a little, and only when I said his name.

When we kissed, the crowd clapped like we’d just won a gold medal. Claire shouted something about finally, and Julia wiped tears from under her glasses, waving off anyone who dared to comment.

The reception was held under a white tent strung with fairy lights and flowers that smelled faintly like citrus. Xander and I sat at a long table while guests filtered in and took their seats. The food was warm and hearty—roasted chicken with herb butter, garlic mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, and soft rolls that Claire declared better than any bakery in town.

Every time I turned around, someone had left a new glass of sparkling cider at my elbow. The champagne flowed freely foreveryone else, and I didn’t mind one bit. I was already tipsy from joy and hormones.

Dad kept hovering by the dessert table, claiming he was making sure the cake didn’t melt. Julia and Claire had planted themselves near the dance floor and were telling anyone who’d listen that I’d been the calmest bride in family history.

When it came time for the first dance, Xander reached for me without saying a word. The music was soft, a classic tune played by a live quartet. I rested one hand on his shoulder and the other over his heart, letting him guide us in a slow circle that made the room tilt gently around us.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low enough that no one else could hear.

“I’m better than okay.”

“You sure? You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked down the aisle.”

“I’m just afraid if I stop, I’ll cry.”

“Then don’t stop.”

I didn’t.

After the dance, we mingled with guests, posed for photos, and managed to sneak two bites of cake before Claire noticed and brought us each a full slice. Dad made a speech that was equal parts sentimental and sarcastic, ending with a toast to “the man who spent half a million to marry my daughter and didn’t even blink.”

Everyone laughed, and Xander didn’t deny it.

Then, just when I thought the surprises were done, Xander’s dad took the microphone and cleared his throat with dramatic flair.

“Since we’re already celebrating love,” he said, glancing toward his girlfriend, Candy, “I’d like to officially announce that we’re engaged.”

A round of applause rippled through the tent, followed by delighted chatter from the older guests. Candy beamed and waved her hand, showing off a diamond that sparkled even in the soft light.

Julia and Claire immediately descended on her with questions about venues and dresses, dragging her halfway to the floral arch before the man of the hour could even finish his glass of champagne.

Xander leaned close and whispered, “Guess we’re not the only ones stealing the spotlight tonight.”

“I’m just glad someone else will be planning the next party.”

As the evening wore on, I wandered from table to table, hearing every version of congratulations a person could imagine. Guests gushed over the food, the dress, and the music. Some of my cousins had started a dance line near the bar, and Claire joined them without hesitation. Julia held court with a group of women near the punch bowl, hands flailing as she retold every detail of the ceremony.

---