Page 127 of The Stranger
“Where?”
“Here, at the estate. How pretty would that be?”
This place has always been special to me, even more so now that I get to spend our weekends here together. “If that’s what you want, we’ll make it happen. The sooner the better.”
Her eyes slightly widen. “Like how soon?”
“How does the end of the month sound? We’ve been engaged for months now; we should set a date.”
“I agree, but this month?” she squeaks. “I don’t even have a dress yet.”
“I bet you and my mother could find you the perfect dress by tomorrow if need be.”
“I don’t doubt that, but what about catering? Three weeks isn’t a long time. I’d be lucky if I could find someone with an availability with such short notice. They’re probably booked out months, if not years, in advance.”
“Nothing is impossible when you have money, Delilah.”
“Ooh, sorry, Mr Fancy-pants. Sometimes I forget you’re a gazillionaire and can buy things mere mortals can’t.”
“Are you mocking me, future Mrs Fancy-pants?”
She throws her head back and laughs, so I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck. “You’ll be a gazillionaireby the end of the month. Once we are married, what’s mine will become yours.”
Drawing her face back, she gives me a serious look. “I don’t want your money, Spencer … all I want is you.”
“You’ve got me, for as long as you want me.”
“How does forever sound?”
“It sounds perfect.”
“Can you believe this is our life?” she asks, snuggling into my side as we continue our walk. “Sometimes I feel the need to pinch myself.”
I drape my arm over her shoulder and pull her closer as I place a soft kiss on her hair. “Sometimes life will take you to unexpected places, sweetheart, but true love will always bring you home.”
By the end of the month, as expected, my mother was able to perform miracles. I almost can’t believe that it’s the night before our wedding day.
Delilah’s dress, which I’m yet to see, is hanging in one of the spare rooms upstairs, and a giant, outdoor marquee was erected today on the grounds, facing the beautiful picturesque view at the rear of the property.
A team of florists, decorators, and caterers will arrive first thing in the morning to finish the last-minute preparations for our big day. Delilah commissioned a local artist to build her a rustic, wooden arbour with floral accents, whatever that means, down by the stream—her favourite spot and where our wedding is being held.
We have only invited fifty guests, with the majority set to arrive tomorrow, but tonight we are hosting our immediate families.
Which should make for an interesting evening—or a disaster in the making.
Delilah’s parents, sister, and newborn nephew are due to arrive shortly. Thankfully, fuckface will not be accompanying them. He stuck by Abigail for the duration of her pregnancy, but when the baby was born with jet-black hair and an olive complexion, he walked out of the delivery room and never returned. I’m gathering she got more than a free holiday and a tan when they vacationed in Hawaii.
My mother has been here since yesterday, with her minions in tow, to direct the workman. I could tell she was in her element. We’ve virtually given her free rein. The only thing that’s important to us is the exchanging of vows. Words that will bond us for the rest of our lives.
When our company finally arrives, it’s awkward, to say the least. Delilah acts like she’s happy to see them, and maybe she is. Me? Not so much. I can tolerate Mrs St. James, but the other two …
After she hugs the three of them and introduces them to my mother, Delilah makes a beeline for the pram where her new baby nephew lays, wrapped up in blankets like a tiny burrito.
“Oh, look how little he is,” she coos. “Can I hold him?” she tentatively asks her sister.
“No,” Abigail barks in reply as her narrowed eyes move around the expansive foyer of my estate.
“Abigail,” her mother chastises.
