Page 903 of Coal Hearts

I plucked a purple flower off the structure framing us and flicked it at him. “I don’t see you popping the question any time soon.”

His face softened as he looked at redheaded Lucy in the front row. “I had to wait for you to get your act together. Now that this day is finally here, who knows.”

I shot him a look. “You’re gonna propose?”

He patted his pocket. “Will it upstage you if I do?”

“Fuck no. Do it. I’ll make the announcement for you in the toasts.”

He chuckled. “How about you just focus on your own wedded bliss first.”

Lowering my voice, I whispered, “Remind me to show you a little home movie later.”

“Oh?” He frowned. “What kind of movie?”

“Let’s just say, an old acquaintance of ours stars in it. And the ending we didn’t get to participate in.”

“Ah.” He gave me a twisted grin. “Yes...I think I’d like to see that.”

We both sucked in a breath as a contemporary wedding march began, played by the orchestra Tess had insisted we hire. However, it had a twist. A lilting, magical twist that blended east and west, souls and hearts.

My eyes fell on little Priti in Lucy’s arms.

My heart squeezed. “Know what? I can’t do it.”

“You what—?” Peter gasped as I bolted off the podium, dashed to Lucy and snagged my daughter.

“Can I borrow her?” I grinned.

Lucy laughed. “Of course!”

Bundling the chubby white-dressed baby into my arms, I climbed back into position just as Ily appeared.

I almost dropped my damn daughter.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck’s sake, give her to me.” Peter reached for my little fireheart.

“Hands off, Paavak.” I blinked and braced my knees, completely bewitched by Ily as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm.

Krish was around here somewhere. Probably in the western gardens with Tiger, far away from the crush of people. We’d go sit with him afterward. Share in the quiet and some cake without all the mayhem.

Ily’s mum dabbed her eyes where she sat on the left and the entire crowd fell quiet as Ily glided toward me.

Priti babbled in my arms as Ily rolled her eyes, seeing who I held.

I shrugged.

She knew I was obsessed.

Knew I only had a finite amount of time I could stand to be away from her.

Priti—a Sanskrit name for kindness, grace, and love—had no idea who she’d been born to. I would make her life absolute hell when she got older. I’d be protective as fuck and downright annoying but...no man would ever love her as much as I did.

Ily kissed her father’s cheek as they reached the two steps to the podium.

Her sparkling silver sari dripped with simple crystals instead of expensive gemstones. Around her neck rested a silver circle that Krish had painstakingly etched with the flower of life. He’d asked if Ily wanted a stone called aventurine to match the one lost on Victor’s island.