Page 131 of The Stranger
“A gentle push or a shove?”
“Same, same,” she says, flicking her hand. “And I’m sorry for the tears … I’ve just waited a long time for this day. For a while there, I was worried it would never happen.”
I tenderly grasp her shoulders and lean in to place my lips against her cheek. “Thank you for always being there for me, and for manipulating me into going to her house that night because it inadvertently turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I appreciate you, Mother.” But the moment those words are out of my mouth, I tilt my head back and groan because it has her tears reappearing.
“I guess I should get out there and make sure everything is in order,” she sniffles, dabbing her eyes again. “I also want to monitor that retched woman and her father.”
“Good luck with that.”
“They were on their best behaviour at breakfast this morning, so I hope I don’t need it. If all else fails, the pair of them may end up going for an unplanned swim in that delightful little stream out back.”
I bark out a laugh as she turns to leave the room.
Despite the disastrous start to our dinner party last night, surprisingly it still went ahead—sans my mother of course. It was quiet and a tad awkward. Somewhat strained conversation flowed intermittently between Delilah, me, and her mother. The other two thankfully kept their mouths shut.
When the meal was complete, they hightailed it to their rooms while the three of us were left to tidy up.
Delilah’s mother hugged her tightly before she retired for the evening, and said,“I love you. Never forget that, sweetie. From the moment you were conceived, I wanted you, and that hasn’t changed. I’m proud of the woman youare, and so happy you found a man who worships the ground you walk on.”
My mother’s harsh words from earlier must have had some effect on her, and I was grateful for that.
Delilah made a sandwich and a cup of tea for my mother once we’d finished cleaning the kitchen and took it up to her room. She was in there for a good hour, and when she came to our bedroom looking for me, she was smiling. Between her mother’s words, and whatever mine had said to her, her spirits had gotten a much-needed boost.
By morning, it was like the events of the night before had never happened. My mother brought in a team of hairstylists and makeup artists, who arrived at the estate early to work their magic. Not that my girl needed any of that. Her sister, though, would need a lot more than makeup to hide the ugliness that lies within.
Delilah included her mother and her sister in the pampering because, despite it all, her kind heart will always win out in the end. It’s just the person she is. Some may see that as a flaw or weakness, but I see it for what it is. She’s simply being kind to the unkindest of people because, in her eyes, they are the ones who need it most.
When our guests begin to arrive, I make my way downstairs. The nerves my mother mentioned earlier have still not hit. I’m wondering if they will. This is a day I’ve been looking forward to for a long time. And as long as Delilah makes her way down that aisle towards me, I have nothing to fear.
We have a fleet of golf buggies on-site to ferry our guests down to the stream where the ceremony will be held.
I’m still feeling perfectly composed as I mill around with some of our guests while waiting for the bride toarrive. I did, however, have to rescue my lawyer from my mother’s clutches—thankfully, his wife, Brooke, found it thoroughly amusing. She conveniently sat them both athertable for the duration of the reception, which I’m sure was a calculated move on her part. I know it is harmless, but I still find her actions shameless. I don’t doubt that she and Brooke will be the best of friends by the time the evening is over.
When the celebrant notifies me the bride is on her way, it’s time for me to take my place by the altar. My stomach chooses that very moment to lurch.
My hands twitch as I move to stand in front of the beautifully decorated arbour. It has been made from branches—that the artist collected from our property—which have been entwined together to form an arch. There’s sheer, white fabric scalloped along the top and a bouquet of native wildflowers bunched in each corner. I couldn’t envision it when Delilah told me what she wanted, but I love all her personal touches, and it suits the scenery.
The entire surroundings look amazing, and Delilah was right; this is the perfect backdrop for our wedding. I shove my hands into the pockets of my trousers as I turn and watch the bride being chauffeured towards us. A long strip of white carpet has been laid down in the centre and is flanked on either side with rows of white wooden chairs.
I’m grinning like a lovesick fool when the cart pulls to a stop. My mother is waiting there to help her exit. Not only does my breath hitch in my throat when she steps down and I get the first glimpse at her dress, but something unexpected happens … my eyes cloud over.
I clear my throat and tilt my head towards the blue, cloudless sky above. It’s a colour very similar to Delilah’spretty eyes. Blinking rapidly, I try to pull myself together as my bride prepares to make her way down to me.
Delilah takes her position as my mother fusses over the back of her dress, making sure it’s fanned out perfectly where it lies against the ground. When she turns briefly to kiss my mother’s cheek and thank her, I get a glimpse at the back of her dress … or lack thereof. It tapers down, forming a large ‘V’ that ends at the base of her spine. A low growl rumbles in the back of my throat at the sight of all that bare flesh.
I’m now looking forward to seeing all of her from behind because her formfitting gown doesn’t flare out until mid-thigh, which means it is hugging that luscious peachy arse of hers. It’s one of many parts of her body that I’m obsessed with.
When the first beats of the song Delilah chose, “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri, start playing, the moisture in my eyes returns. I can’t remember the last time I became so emotional, but I know it wasn’t during my adult years, which Delilah would tease was a very long time.
As she gets closer, I can make more details out. Her gown is made from elegant rose embroidered lace that accentuates every curve on her petite body. Thin straps hold the bodice up and it has a fit-and-flare silhouette skirt that flows into a long train in the rear. The ivory fabric is illuminated further by her tanned, silky soft skin.
Her long blonde hair has been left down and the loose curls cascade over one shoulder. The other side has been pulled back by a row of fresh white roses, resembling the ones in her bouquet. She’s a vision of femininity.
In a genuine show of strength, she chose to walk herself down the aisle today.“He never wanted to be my father, so he doesn’t deserve the honour of giving meaway,”was what she said.It broke my heart to hear those words from her, but to say I’m proud of her for making a stance is an understatement. Is it wrong of me to hope he’s having regrets? Although judging by his eldest daughter’s unscrupulous character, he might get many opportunities to do it with that one.
