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26
GRAYSON
The weeks following our confrontation with my mother are a whirlwind of activity, a mad dash to the finish line of our rapidly approaching wedding day.
Despite Mother's grudging acceptance of Amara, the air between them remains frosty, a palpable tension that puts me on edge every time they're in the same room.
"I just don't understand it," I sigh one evening, as Amara and I pour over yet another set of floral arrangements. "She said she would try, that she would make an effort to build a relationship with you. But every time I see her, it's like...like she's barely holding herself back from saying something cutting or cruel."
Amara looks up from the glossy pages, her expression soft and understanding. "Grayson, love...I know it's hard. But we have to give her time. This is a big change for her, a shift in the way she's always seen the world and her place in it."
I nod, feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the incredible woman beside me. "You're right, as always. I just...I hate seeing my baby girl hurt. I hate the way she looks at you sometimes, like you're not good enough, like you'll never measure up to her impossible standards."
She reaches out, taking my hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I know, I won't lie, it does sting sometimes. But I also know that her opinion of me, of us...it doesn't define our love, or the future we're building together."
I lean in, capturing her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. "How did I get so lucky, hmm? To have a partner as wise and compassionate as you by my side?"
Amara grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you're a devastatingly handsome billionaire with a heart of gold and a jaw that could cut glass?"
I laugh, feeling the tension and worry of the past few weeks start to melt away in the face of her playful teasing. "Is that so? Well, I suppose I should count my blessings, then. Not every devastatingly handsome billionaire is lucky enough to snag a bride as brilliant and beautiful as you."
We dissolve into giggles, the stress and strain of wedding planning momentarily forgotten as we revel in the simple joy of being together, of loving each other.
But as the days tick by and the big day draws ever closer, the challenges and setbacks seem to mount, each one more daunting than the last.
"What do you mean, the venue is double-booked?" I growl into the phone, my free hand clenched into a fist at my side. "We put down a deposit months ago, we have a contract! How could this happen?"
The hapless event coordinator on the other end stammers out an apology, a litany of excuses and platitudes that do little to soothe my fraying nerves.
I'm about to launch into a blistering tirade when I feel a soft hand on my arm, a gentle touch that instantly calms the raging storm inside me. I turn to see a pair of soft brown eyes, coaxing me down from the ledge.
"Grayson," Amara murmurs, her voice low and soothing. "It's okay. We'll figure this out, just like we've figured out everything else."
I take a deep breath, feeling the anger and frustration start to drain away, replaced by a sense of calm and certainty that I only ever feel when she is by my side.
"You're right," I sigh, giving the coordinator a curt but polite goodbye before hanging up the phone. "I'm sorry, love. I just...I want everything to be perfect for you, for us. And it feels like the universe is conspiring against us at every turn. It bothers me to not have control."
Amara smiles, reaching up to cup my face in her hands. "Grayson Winthrop, you listen to me. Our wedding day will be perfect, no matter what. Because at the end of the day, all that matters is that we're together, that we're pledging our lives and our hearts to each other in front of the people we love most."
I feel a lump form in my throat, a rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm me. "How do you do that?" I whisper, my voice thick with feeling. "How do you always know just what to say? My magic woman."
She shrugs, a small, secret smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "It's a gift, I suppose. Or maybe just a side effect of being in love with you."
I lean down, resting my forehead against hers as I breathe in the sweet, familiar scent of her. "I love you, Amara Jeffries. More than I ever thought possible. And I can't wait to be your husband, to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me."
Amara's eyes flutter closed, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "I love you too, Grayson. With every beat of my heart, every breath in my body. You're my everything, my reason for being. And I...I can't wait to be your wife."
We stay like that for a long moment, lost in the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace. But finally, reluctantly, we pull apart, the realities of the day intruding on our blissful bubble.
"We should probably get back to it," Amara sighs, glancing at the ever-growing pile of to-do lists and vendor contracts. "These centerpieces aren't going to choose themselves, after all."
I nod, feeling a renewed sense of determination and purpose. "You're right, love. But before we dive back in...there's something I want to do first."
I take her hand, leading her out to the balcony of our apartment. The city stretches out before us, a glittering sea of lights and endless possibility.
I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. Amara's eyes widen, her hand flying to her mouth as I sink to one knee before her.
"I know I've already asked you this once before," I say softly, my heart pounding in my chest. "But I want to ask you again, here and now, with the whole world as our witness."
