Page 55 of Wed to the Devil

Tristen stands next to me, wearing an almost identical suit. He casts an eye over the large arbor trellis that has been set up for the wedding. It is a work of art in its own right, beautiful ash wood woven with thousands of pure white cherry blossom branches.

Tristen doesn’t say anything, but I can tell by the look on his face that he is wondering whether the trellis will blow away if it gets any windier today. His gaze slides between the black-suited reverend and back to the trellis.

I look over at the reverend. “You think I should ask him to hold the trellis in place?” I joke. “It’s not a religious ceremony, so he doesn’t have any sacred texts to hold.”

“You know, you get punchy when you’re nervous,” Tristen replies. “It’s not your most attractive quality.”

He runs his hand over his slicked back blonde hair and acts as if he hadn’t contemplated the very same thing.

“I just need everything to go smoothly today.” It’s not a lie, exactly. “I have a lot riding on this ceremony.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “I’m sure it will be okay.” He glances up at the sky and purses his lips. “I’m not sure how you managed to pull all of this together in a week, though. I’ve been engaged three times and every single woman I was with set a date more than a year out. It takes a lot of energy to plan weddings, I guess.”

“You sure that wasn’t just a stalling tactic on their part? After all, you haven’t actually gotten married.”

“Fuck off.”

He fiddles with his cuffs and looks out towards the back of the house, where the reception area is still having the final touches put on it. Wedding planners and caterers and florists practically sprint back and forth, trying to complete the vision that my personal assistant Jonathan told them to follow.

I shrug my shoulders. My assistant Jonathan planned the entire thing. And he has had more than a few months to plan it. I just moved the date up a little bit.

I start to say something further, but the front door to the house swings open. I turn my expectant gaze to the door, holding my breath for a second. I am all keyed up and expecting Talia to appear out that doorway any second now. But it’s only one of the wedding coordinators.

“I have a flask in my pocket. You want to take a pull from it?” Tristen whispers.

I shoot him a look and run my hand down my vest for the hundredth time. “No, I'm good. Talia can't be much longer.”

I look out of the crowd, who have started to turn around in their seats and fanning themselves, the bubble of their conversation washes over me like the sound of the ocean just behind me. I make a face and turn to look out over the ocean. Tristen turns too and slides me a concerned look.

“Should I go check on her?”

My lips thin. “Don't do anything. Everyone is watching us. I'll just text my assistant.” But before I can do that, the squeaky front door opens again. The audience falls silent. I whip around to see Talia step out of the door. She's absolutely radiant in a dress that is as white as fresh-fallen snow.

The sleeveless bodice is wrapped in white satin. It has delicate lace cutouts around the sides and intricate pearl beading that trails down from Talia’s waist while the skirt flares out dramatically at the knee. It has a train that flows out for a dozen feet behind her. Herhead is swathed in a delicate white lace veil. As she steps out, two assistants rush to keep pace with her, keeping her train from touching the ground.

Her friend Olivia and her Aunt Minnie follow her, their pale peach silk gowns and professional hair and makeup making them look incredible. Olivia and Aunt Minnie hurry to step in front of Talia, each of them making their way down the aisle towards me.

My gaze is riveted on Talia’s form as she slowly makes her way down the aisle. The guests have risen to their feet and watch in awe as Talia walks the last few steps towards me.

She’s beautiful. Absolutely radiant.

Her facial features are clearer as she gets closer to me. By the time she sweeps up the steps and reaches the Arbor trellis, I am not anxious anymore.

No, I am excited, as ridiculous as it sounds. She steps close to me and my eyes scan her face. It’s beautifully made up, but her features are totally blank. Is she shielding her emotions? Or does she feel as numb and uncaring as she looks?

I take her hand, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “You look beautiful, darling girl.”

Talia’s blue eyes flash, her gaze skewering me. She doesn’t look even a little bit happy to be here in front of all these people.

I’ll admit, I’m a little taken aback. This is her wedding day. Shouldn’t my bride be a tiny bit happy? When I start to pull away, she squeezes my hand hard and stares at me. She clearly means something with the gesture, though I’m at a loss as to what exactly.

Talia leans close to my ear and whispers, “Stay with me.”

I grip her hand with both of mine, dropping a burning kiss onto the back. Then I hastily help pull the veil over Talia’s head, revealing her beautiful face. She has never looked so lovely as she does today… but it is hard for me to think that there was ever a moment when I wasn’t blown away by her elegance and grace.

She really is as close to perfect as a wife can be.

The reverend clears his throat and begins to speak. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

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