Page 92 of Songbird
Rosie glides forward with her back straight, her chin lifted, and her blue eyes bright, and my heart pounds with adoration and amazement. She hands her bouquet of white roses to Pia so she can slip her hands in mine, and I swallow hard as she gazes up at me.
“You look beautiful,” I whisper, and because I can’t help it, I lean in and kiss her upturned lips.
It lasts long enough that our officiant clears his throat, and our guests respond with quiet laughter. I pull away reluctantly, the fact that I need my mouth to make my vows the only thing keeping me from sweeping Rosie off her feet immediately.
The ceremony is sweet and simple. I spent days agonizing over all the promises I wanted to make today, then settled on the most significant one.
“Rosanna Betty Thorne,” I say when the celebrant invites me to speak. “Ever since I can remember, I struggled to figure out where I belonged. How did I fit in my family? Where was my place in the world? What was I supposed to do with this pull I felt to make art and music? I’d lived through too much sadness to believe it was safe to hope that my life would be different. I didn’t want to let love in, and I didn’t want to let my fears out.”
The words I’ve practiced over and over stick in my throat now that I’m sharing them with Rosie, and as nervous as I was to be this open and honest with people watching, it’s nothing compared to the emotion of finally putting all the things I feel for this woman into words she’ll understand.
“And then you came along,” I say with a smile, sweeping Rosie’s tears away with a brush of my thumb. “A bird with a broken wing. You put your life in my hands and more than that. You gave me something to believe in, and it undid me. I fell in love with you so greatly and so fiercely that I had to take a chance or risk losing you, and I was never going to let that happen.”
I swallow and blink away the love welling in my eyes. “Thank you for showing me the way. Thank you for teaching me and supporting me and loving me. Thank you for letting me love you in return. I promise to adore you, cherish you, and protect you and our baby girl every minute of every day for the rest of my life.”
Rosie gazes up at me with a smile framed by tears, and I kiss them away. It earns me another firm cough from our officiant.
“My turn,” Rosie says with a light laugh. “Oh, Finn. I don’t think you know how safe I felt with you right from the start. When so much in my life felt superficial, senseless, and scary, you were real, honest, and steady. You were exactly what I needed at exactly the right time.”
Rosie tightens her grip on my hands, and I nod to let her know I’m listening.
“You remind me of who I am and who I want to be,” she says. “You give me space to fly free and a soft place to land when I fall. When my world had shown me all the ways I had failed, you made me believe in myself again. You gave me back my confidence and my trust in myself. You reignited passions in me—for music and love and life—that I thought would be dulled forever. Without meaning to and without even trying, you showed me that I was right to hope that real love was out there somewhere, waiting for me to find it.”
Rosie lifts up on her toes, then settles back on her heels with a grin. “Thank you for being the light in my darkness, guiding me to a new home. Thank you for being brave enough to take achance on me when I know it hasn’t been easy. Thank you for beingyou. I promise to adore you, cherish you, and protect you and our growing family every minute of every day for the rest of my life.”
Dakota, having grown anxious with all the crying, moves from her place at my feet and nudges her head against Rosie’s thigh. She laughs, and I kneel down to extract our wedding rings from the little box on Dakota’s collar.
And then finally, with vows and rings exchanged, the celebrant sanctions our kiss. It lasts forever, the way it’s supposed to, and the crowd cheers, the way we knew it would.
Rosie beams at me across the front seat of my truck, and though I’m more accustomed to the tail of John and Jarrod in the car behind us than I might have been six months ago, I’m glad they’ve agreed to remain outside while Rosie and I are on our honeymoon.
“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” I ask as I bring the back of her hand to my lips. “We could go anywhere in the world—literally anywhere—and you want to spend the next five days in my old bungalow?”
I don’t know where she found it, but somewhere during our wedding reception, Rosie threw my old red flannel over her gown to keep warm, and the way she wears both makes my heart feel too big for my chest.
“I’m sure.” Rosie inhales deeply, then releases it like she’s letting all her worries go. “I miss this place a little more every day.”
I watch the path ahead even though I could drive the dirt trails of Silver Leaf with my eyes closed. I’ve grown lax keeping my expressions in check around Rosie and I don’t want her to read the eagerness in my eyes.
“But it’s so small,” I say. “Nothing like we’re used to in Nashville.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Rosie fusses with the fabric of her dress, and her distracted expression melts into dreamy admiration as she traces the shapes in the lace. “When Violet told me she’d one day make me the perfect dress, I’ll admit I didn’t believe her at the time, butlookat this! It’s so stunning and you’re so talented. I love it so much.”
My mouth lifts at the corner. Rosie’s trains of thought are easily derailed these days, and it’s just one more thing I love about her pregnancy. “Thanks, Songbird, but what were you going to say about Nashville…?”
She screws up her nose. “It’s too big,” she says. “We could fill it with a dozen babies—”
I growl eagerly at the idea, and Rosie laughs. “Down, boy. We’ve got to see how we do with this one first.”
“You’re going to be a wonderful mother,” I reassure her. “No doubt in my mind.”
She sighs and strokes my cheek. “And you’re going to light up the world when you’re a daddy, but my point is, we could fill that house with children, and it would still feel empty. It’s too big and too cold, and I’m not sure it’ll ever behome. I miss the way your cabin felt like a nest. All cozy and warm and intimate. I want to spend more time here, Finn, especially after the baby is born. I want our first weeks of parenthood to feel as cocooned as the early days of us falling in love. Nowhere will ever feel like home the way this place does.” She shrugs with a frustrated sigh. “I’d move in tomorrow if it had another bedroom. I’m not sure I canget up and down that ladder with this belly, let alone a newborn baby.”
“I’m really glad you said that because I have a confession to make.”
“Oh?” Rosie’s mouth twitches with curiosity. “What is it?”
I squint through the windshield as the cabin comes into view then slow my truck to a roll. “One of the first things I did after you told me about the baby was call my brothers and sisters for a family meeting.”
