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“Know we’re already technically engaged.” His voice was thick with emotion. “I also know that you know I’m not one to stick to tradition normally. But I’m gonna make an exception for you.”
Swiss took the ring and slid it onto the fourth finger of my left hand before laying a kiss on my palm. “I also know that you didn’t want a big wedding. That the most important thing to you is family.” His eyes navigated to Violet who was watching with a radiant smile on her face. “So I enlisted the help of your daughter and a few others to give you a wedding and a home.”
I struggled to keep my breathing under control.
A wedding.
Today. Swiss had organized a proposal, a new home and a wedding. With my daughter.
“What do you say, Countess?” he asked. “Wanna get hitched today?”
Instead of speaking, I did a little hiccup sob thing.
Swiss looked to Violet. “That sound like a yes?”
She nodded rapidly. “A total yes.”
Swiss stood, pulling me into his arms and kissing me lightly. “I’ll let you go and get ready,” he said against my lips. “I’ve got to go and make myself pretty for my wife.”
He laid a kiss on my nose before sauntering off.
As if he hadn’t just rocked my world.
I didn’t even have time to process what was happening because Macy, Freya and Caroline appeared, and they, along with Violet, spirited me away to ‘get ready.’
For my wedding day.
The house that Swiss had bought for us was perfect.
Beyond perfect.
It was exactly what I’d been imagining, sitting on Freya’s patio that night months ago. It was on six acres. Not a house to be seen in any direction. A sprawling garden that was wild, colorful and perfect. A large pool, the water glimmering off the sunlight, visible from our bedroom.
Or should I say, our wing.
The room itself was huge with a private patio, views to die for and a gigantic closet and bathroom.
The only thing hanging in that closet had been my wedding dress.
The wedding dress that I didn’t pick but somehow fit me to a T. That was somehow utterly perfect for me. It was simple, such a pale pink it was almost white. The neck was high but dipped way down low in the back. It molded over my new curves, complimenting every one of them before trailing down delicately to the floor.
Beaded strappy sandals were designer. “I know about the trauma you have connected to designer shoes, but don’t let your asshole husband take away the artistry that is Jimmy Choo,” Freya had begged.
I’d relented on that one because they were beautiful.
Marilyn—Freya’s friend who had firmly become my friend too—had done my hair and makeup. The rest of the women had fed me food and wine, dressed in simple dresses of varying colors but similar styles.
Violet’s dress was light purple, to match her eyes, and crisscrossed in the front, slipping over her slight body and making her truly look like the woman she was.
At some point, the women had realized that I needed some alone time with my daughter and had given me hugs, kisses and hand squeezes, Freya shoving a wildflower bouquet in my hands before she left.
Then it was just me and Violet, standing in the middle of my new closet. On my wedding day.
“You look so incredible, Momma,” she whispered, pinning up a rogue strand of my hair. It was in wild curls with two braids pulled back off my face. No veil. It definitely wasn’t a veil kind of wedding.
“Honey, it’s your birthday,” I argued softly, tears in my eyes.
“I know,” she replied, her own eyes glassy. “And the absolute best gift I could ever get is my mom truly being happy. In a home she deserves. With a love she deserves.”
