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Here for you, always,
Connor xx
‘Oh Connor’, she whispered, clutching the letter to her chest, ‘you’re such a sweetheart.’
Blinking fast, she looked to the ceiling, then to the floor, then stood and paced with one boot on. Fanning her face as if that would somehow ward off her overwhelming emotions, she fought back her tears. After an hour and a half in the make-up hot seat, she wasn’t about to ruin the beautiful job the artist had done. But boy oh boy, the feelings Connor was enticing: tenderness, gratitude, vulnerability, fear, euphoria, exhilaration and, she had to confess, love. It made her feel a little crazy, in both a good and a bad way. She just didn’t know what she was meant to do with such raw sentiments yet.
Hobbling to the French doors, she stepped out and onto the verandah, and then looked to the heavens for fortitude. ‘Mum, Dad, if you are up there, looking down on me, please give me the strength to make the right decision about my messy life, whatever that may be.’
‘Sammie, are you in here?’ Shea’s voice carried outside.
‘Yes, I’m coming.’ Her self-control in check, she stepped back inside.
‘Oh wow, Sammie, you look absolutely stunning.’
‘Thank you.’ Watching Shea doing the same face-fanning that she’d just tried, Samantha waggled a finger at her dear friend. ‘Don’t you dare cry, because your make-up is gorgeous.’
‘I’m trying not to,’ Shea half laughed, half whimpered as she fanned faster.
Samantha placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you ready for me to help you into your gown?’
‘I am.’ Shea looked to where it was hanging, then back at Samantha. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, of course I am.’ Samantha swallowed down her lump of emotion and flashed Shea a wide smile. ‘Now come on, let’s get you sorted so you can go and marry that wonderful man of yours.’
Tying the silk straps of the bodice, Samantha stole a moment to admire how perfectly the dress fitted. ‘You look incredible, Shea.’
‘I still can’t believe you let me wear it.’ She spun and threw her arms around Samantha. ‘Thank you, again, for being so generous.’
‘Of course.’ Samantha held her close. ‘I love you.’
‘Love you, too, Sammie.’
Amaya skipped in, bring with her an air of sweet innocence. ‘Oh Mummy, you look like a princess.’
‘Thank you, sweetheart, and you, my girl, are the prettiest flower girl I’ve ever seen.’ Crouching down, Shea shared a kiss and cuddle with her daughter. ‘Are you ready to watch Mummy and Daddy get married?’
‘Am I ever!’ Amaya said, spinning in a circle, sending her dress spiralling around her knees.
Hand in hand, the three of them left the room behind.
After making sure the train of Shea’s dress was perfectly spread out behind her, then popping Amaya just in front of her with her basket of rose petals, Samantha took her place. The seated guests stood and turned towards them. The music started, and she gently ushered Amaya forward. Cute as a button, Amaya took measured steps, her little hand cascading petals as she made her way to the front. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the church, casting bright colours over everything in sight and for an instant, the memory of the last time she’d walked down this very aisle, towards her parents’ caskets, crashed down upon Samantha. Unfathomable grief gripped her for a breath, and then another, before she met Connor’s steadfast gaze, and he silently helped her to find the courage to push through the sorrow. Forcing a smile, she moved towards him, feeling as if he was carrying the weight of her heavy heart with each of her steps perfectly timed to the music. Reaching the front, she took her place and turned to watch Shea and her father make their entrance. As strained as Shea and her dad’s relationship could quite often be, she was glad he’d made the trip here from Tasmania for his daughter’s special day. And the look on Jack’s face, as he watched his bride-to-be walk down the aisle – aww, it was priceless. As she watched Shea take hold of Jack’s hands, Samantha couldn’t deny the truth staring her right in the face – she wanted, craved and longed for their kind of love: eternal, unconditional, profound, the same kind of love her parents had shared for one another. Emotions threatening to overcome her, she kept her gaze away from anyone else as the priest began the proceedings, especially Connor, because if she made eye contact with anyone right now, especially him, she’d so easily fall to pieces.
There were love-filled verses, heart-moving vows, the exchanging of rings and then the priest pronounced Jack and Shea husband and wife. The guests cheered as Jack bent Shea backwards, planting a kiss on her pouted lips. Then, after an hour of photographs, in many of which she found herself closely pressed up against Connor, in what felt like the blink of an eye, Samantha found herself at the reception, with plate in hand, ready to pick out what she wanted for dinner. The buffet table was lavish and as she moved along, she did her best not to fill her plate to the brim – she didn’t want to overdo it, with her eyes bigger than her belly.
‘Hey there.’ Connor’s deep voice carried over her shoulder. ‘I have to say you’re looking incredible in that dress.’
‘Thank you.’ Glancing back at him, she turned and ran her gaze up and down his six-foot suit-clad body. ‘You’ve scrubbed up mighty fine yourself, too, Mr Gunn.’
‘Why thankya, Miss Evans.’ He struck a pose akin to James Bond, grinning that smile that would win any woman over in a split second.
She had to silently admit, even though she’d fought him off at every turn, that knee-buckling smile had won her over, too. ‘Thank you for my letter,’ she said, softly, as he stepped back in beside her.
There was a short pause. ‘Did you like it?’
‘No.’ She had to bite her lip to add a dramatic pause. ‘I loved it.’
‘You did?’ was his happy, husky response.
