Page 156 of Headstrong Like Us
“Figured.” I wipe Ripley’s tear-streaked cheek with my thumb.
It reminds me of what Maximoff said about wedding footage leaking. If Jack Highland and the rest of the production team film and air our wedding onWe Are Calloway, at least less grainy shit will be out there.
Jack also offered to film the ceremony, even if we don’t use the footage for the docuseries. We can keep it for ourselves, and I agreed to that. So he’s working in Anacapri with a camera crew, but I still haven’t decided whether I want the wedding aired on cable.
Outside the villa, we walk up to the umbrella-shaded tables. Specifically the table with Maximoff, his uncles, and dad. He sees me approaching and immediately stands.
“And he can’t wait to see me,” I whisper to Ripley.
Maximoff forces back a smile on purpose and then makes a playful face at Ripley.
Kid you not, the baby immediately stops crying like heaven is cracking open and light is beaming through. As though Maximoff Hale is Zeus, godly enough to rain thunder. And I’m just waiting for our son to realize that I wield the lightning.
I pass Ripley over to my groom.
“Morning.” Maximoff leans in, kissing me lightly. “You’re still doing that thing at breakfast?”
I see Thatcher take a seat at the table in my peripheral. “Yeah, I’ll be a minute.”
Encouragements fill his eyes. “I’ll get you an omelet.”
I walk backwards, my smile expanding. “He knows what I want to eat. It’s like he’ssoobsessed with me.”
Maximoff flips me off playfully and Ripley grabs onto his middle finger. We laugh, and I tap into all my strength to rotate and leave for a different table across the courtyard.
Warm air swirls around the stone patio in a pleasant breeze. Maximoff is right about one thing. I do have a Band-Aid method, and I haven’t overthought this part of the wedding.
Not once.
“Lily?” I reach the Calloway sisters’ table, and every woman turns at the exact same time and looks at me.
“No dicks allowed,” Rose says icily and waves me off.
“Rose,” Lily chastises with a mouthful of pastry.
I skate my tongue over my teeth, brows raised. Extremely amused. They actually all know why I’m approaching Lily right now.
“What?” Rose snaps. “He’s not immune just because he’s marrying your son. I’d say the exact same if my own husband tried to worm his way over here.” She cringes at him in the distance. “Ugh, he’s looking at us.”
Daisy wags a donut towards me. “Breakfast?”
“Thanks, but I’m okay.” I smile at Lily who wipes crumbs off her lips. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Somewhere private?”
“Yeah, of course.” Lily springs up and brings a water glass on our journey down a stone path. “Does my hair look greasy?” She runs her fingers through the brown strands, cut short at her collarbones. “I washed it this morning but it has the flat ‘uh-oh’ look.”
I’ve seen her hair greasy, and that’s not close. “It looks good.” I extend an arm over her shoulders, and she hugs me around the waist.
For a second, I remember the years I spent protecting Lily.
Good days.
Better years.
But I can’t lie, here and now with her son is my favorite time I’ve ever lived, and I have a feeling she’d be perfectly happy with that.
We stop inside a secret garden. White rose vines crawl up trellises, and pomegranate trees curve around a bubbling fountain. I haven’t exactly planned out this moment word for word.
I go off the cuff. “I asked your sisters if I should bring this up to you before we left Philly, and they said I should do it here.”
