Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Oliver?” I spot him waiting by the elevators. “I thought you left already.”
He spins on his heels, his face lighting when he sees me.
“Look at you,” he says, his hands casually dipped into the pockets of his black suit as he takes me in. “Cleaned up nicely.”
“I could say the same for you,” I tease. “I thought you guys left already?”
It’s not like Slade to be late for anything.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
The elevator doors open and we step inside. They say it’s bad luck for a bride and groom to see each other before the wedding, but I’ve had my fill of tradition today. I’m willing to roll the dice on this one.
“Yeah, he just needed a moment to himself.” He presses the button for the main level. “I think it really hit him today that Delia’s not going to be here. He’s fine though. He’s ready.”
“Ready to get this over with, I bet.” I sniff a laugh. “That makes two of us.”
It’s a perfect eighty degrees when we get outside. Not a cloud in the sky. Two antique Rolls Royces—one black and one white—idle under the hotel portico. Slade and Victor are already in the back of the black one and my father is riding shotgun in the white one. The rest of the bridal party is piled into a Mercedes van.
“You’ve got this.” Oliver nudges my shoulder before heading to the van.
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
He shrugs, his bittersweet expression lingering a while. “I wish I had more for you.”
“I hope your best man speech is better than this.”
“Oh it is, trust me,” he chuckles
“Campbell!” My mom trots outside in her heels. “You’re dragging that beautiful train on the dirty concrete!”
I don’t waste my breath reminding my mother that she basically kicked my bridal party out of the suite and then left me to get downstairs on my own. She helps me into the back of the white sedan, fussing under her breath about my dress all the while.
The black car takes off, en route to Saint Mary’s Cathedral on Fisher Street.
“You look beautiful, Campbell,” my father says. The wistful smile on his face is accented by the dampness in his eyes. I take it the warmth of my mother’s slap has faded from my face, like it was never there to begin with. “Now, let’s get you married, shall we?”
Mom shuts the door and prattles something off about how the ceremony is already ten minutes behind and we haven’t even arrived at the church yet.
“Relax, Blythe,” he tells her before dialing up the radio. An oldies song plays from the speakers. “Let the girl enjoy her day.”
If only I could.
22
Slade
“Friends and cherished family,” Father Mark begins the ceremony. “We’re gathered here today to celebrate a sacred, joyous union as we witness the merging of two souls in holy matrimony.”
Two minutes ago, Campbell walked through the double doors on her father’s arm, a vision of ethereal beauty and grace in a long white dress. She held her head high as her rose-colored lips spread into a soft, joyful smile that could fool the whole world.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the place—save for perhaps mine—as her father gave her away, though technically he gave her to me twenty-four years ago.
“Marriage, my loved ones,” Father Mark continues, “is a covenant rooted in the very essence of our existence. It’s a profound commitment to grow together, to support one another, and to love each other without conditions. Today as we stand here in this sacred gathering space, we’re reminded that love’s not merely a fleeting emotion but a powerful choice to go through life hand in hand in unfaltering devotion.”
Campbell gazes up at me through a fringe of dark lashes and her hands feel delicate and cashmere soft in mine, a reminder that this is the first time I’ve ever held them.
“Campbell and Slade, know that true love has brought you to this day, but it’s your everlasting love that will carry you through the years to come,” Father Mark says. “As you pledge yourselves to one another, know that it’s within the journey that you’ll find the true heart of love itself. You’ll find it in the gift of giving and receiving. Sharing and supporting. Understanding and forgiveness.”
I keep my attention trained on my bride, avoiding the temptation to sneak a glimpse of the empty space next to my father in the first pew.
“As you create your life together,” the priest goes on, “keep in mind you’re not losing your individuality. You’re gaining a companion—one you’ll need as you journey along life’s long and winding paths. During the hard times, be compassionate listeners and relentless communicators. Speak only with an open heart but listen with understanding. Keep your words gentle and your actions kind always. Find comfort in each other’s arms, for it’s the safest haven you’ll ever know. And as you stand here in front of this altar, remember that love is not confined by time and circumstance. It grows. Evolves. Thrives when nurtured. Every day, make an effort to keep the flame alive, to celebrate your partner in ways big and small, and most importantly, to be grateful to have one another.”