Adrian
She had so many questions for me last night, like who was in the other car? Why was I shooting a gun? What do I do for a living?
And I answered none of them because I wanted her to marry me first. I want her to be stuck with the fact that she’s my wife and can’t go anywhere because she’s mine.
When I wouldn’t tell her anything, she slammed the bedroom door in my face, and once again, I spent the night outside my own bedroom.
It’s fine because while she slept, I made the necessary calls to make sure the wedding happens today.
Her dress is here. The gardens are prepared. The caterers have arrived.
And the guests will be here in a few hours.
“Is Daphne getting ready?” My father asks, standing in the doorway of my brother’s bedroom.
“No, because I’m not marrying her today,” I say, staring at my reflection in the mirror as I make sure the bowtie to my tux is perfect. “I’m marrying someone else. Someone who I care about immensely.”
“I don’t care. As long as you marry, I’m happy.”
“I don’t-” My brother nudges me in the side, and I silence him. “Do we have extra security around the house? After what happened yesterday with the Angelinis, I won’t risk Mable’s safety.”
“Mable. That’s a pretty name. Where did you meet her?”
“Mable is the daughter of Mr. Porter, remember? Or did you forget?”
“Mable Porter is the woman you’re marrying?” he bellows. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Does she know what happened all those years ago?”
“No, she doesn’t remember. Ever since I pulled her from that vehicle, I knew she was meant to be mine. No one will tell her what happened. Do I make myself clear?”
“You can’t be serious.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen my father’s face so red. “What if she remembers? What then?”
“Then I’ll deal with it. I marry her, or I don’t marry at all; what’s your choice of poison?”
He marches away, furious at me for marrying the daughter he let survive. It’s his fault if he is looking for blame. If I had never pulled her from that car, I would never have known what it was like to look heaven in the eyes or feel her skin against mine.
It’s how I knew she was meant for me.
“Is she getting ready?” Otello asks, taking a shot of whiskey. “Damn, that’s strong. Want one? To ease the nerves.”
“I’m not nervous,” I say honestly, looking into the mirror again and feeling peace for the first time in ages. “I’m finally doing what I’ve wanted to do. After today, I’ll have the one thing I’ve always wanted in the world.” I pull out the ring I have in my pocket and open the velvet box.
A teardrop five-carat diamond sits in the middle of a white gold band, and on either side are lines of more diamonds, but what she doesn’t know is that, infused with the band, I had pieces of metal from the day her parents died, melted with the white gold.
I wanted her to have a piece of them with her constantly. It isn’t an apology because an apology can’t bring them back, but maybe when she learns the truth, she’ll know there hasn’t been a day I haven’t thought of her.
And then the wedding band, it’s her mother’s.
I don’t know if she’ll recognize it, but before her mother died, she held out the ring to me and asked if I’d give it to Mable one day just so she had something that belonged to her mother.
I remember giving a slow nod, placing my hand over my heart, then turning away to pull Mable out of the car.
I’ve held onto it every day since. It’s been safe in this box, and now I get to keep my promise and give Mable something that belonged to her mother.
Does that make me a good man? No.
I don’t expect forgiveness from the woman I love when I’ve done the one thing that will forever earn her hate.
“Dri?”
“Hmm?” I close the box, tuck it in my suit pocket, and look at my brother. “What is it?”
“You are nervous,” he says, sliding a shot glass to me.
I sit down and spread my legs wide to get comfortable, throwing my arm over the seat next to me. “Of course I am. I’m marrying the woman of my dreams, and she has no idea how much I love her, and she has no idea of how guilty I am of so many sins, some that turned her life upside down.”
“You need to stop that way of thinking. I’m not sure where you are seeing it’s your fault, but you won’t be able to have a successful marriage if you continue those thoughts. In a few hours, you’ll have everything you want.”
I lift the glass in the air and give Otello a small smile, tossing it back. The amber liquid burns my throat, but it does nothing to get rid of the heavy lead sitting in my gut.
The lies. The betrayal.
It isn’t something to build a marriage on, but I hope one thing always shines through my misgivings-my love, my obsession, and my ache for Mable Porter.
I lift my eyes to the ceiling when I hear the guests start to come into the house. High heels and expensive loafers pound above us, the roars of conversation carrying all the way down the steps to my brother’s room.
My phone vibrates, and it’s a text message from Daphne.
Her: “She’s ready, darling. She’s absolutely beautiful, but she isn’t happy. Are you sure you want this?”
Me: “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll make her happy. I just need time.”
Her: “I hope that is true, Adrian.”
Adrian.
She only pulls that out when she’s serious.
“Are you ready?” My father is at the door again, and I stand.
I’ve been ready since the day I had to pull her out of the car all those years ago.
She might not be ready now, but she will be.
If she gives me a chance, I’ll be everything she’s ever wanted. That I can promise.
That, I can vow.