Chapter 8
My Dear Son,
I am sorry. I really am. I regret not fighting harder to give you a better life. I apologize for holding on to tradition for so long and not following my heart. All I want for you is to be happy. I know you might think otherwise, but please believe me when I say I love you and want the best for you.
You are my son, and my blood runs through your veins. I am afraid your father never taught you what’s truly important. Although I want you to continue with the tradition my parents handed over to me, I don’t want it to happen at the cost of love. I want you to experience the beauty of love. It’s an awakening you’ve never felt before. When it’s true, there’s no other feeling that can compare.
I know the little you’ve seen of love has given you a skewed perspective on the subject, but it isn’t always like that. Love is beautiful, and it should never be forced. I don’t want to force you into something loveless and cold. Instead, I want you to open your heart and find that person who completes you. The one who sees your jagged edges and loves you because of them.
Your life shouldn’t begin and end with Nouvelle Femme. It won’t make you truly happy, and it won’t comfort you on the days you feel lost and without purpose. I want you to find love, my son, and cherish it when you do.
I love you, always and forever.
Mom
Emotion clawed up my throat as I stared at my mother’s handwriting scribbled across the page. I’d hoped to understand why she’d done what she’d done, but after reading her words, I had more questions than ever.
Questions I’d never get answers to.
With a hard swallow, I forced the lump in my throat back down. My mother was wrong. Love wasn’t beautiful. It was fucked-up, and I wanted nothing to do with it.
Shaking my head, I folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope just in time to see Rafe and Snow headed my way.
She’d arrived at the courthouse earlier and couldn’t find us, so she’d texted my friend for directions. I’d figured the instant rush of something fierce and angry burning through my veins was nothing but a bit of nerves—it wasn’t every day you married a stranger.
But watching them walk side by side like they’d known each other for years made me wonder if it could have been something else, especially since that feeling from before came rushing back tenfold.
Strange how I never experienced any of the things I’d felt since I’d met Snow.
How many more unfamiliar things would I experience in the next five years?
Because my eyes were glued to them, I didn’t miss how she laughed at whatever Rafe said. Something sharp and uncomfortable unraveled behind my breastbone.
My jaw clenched, and my fingers curled into tight fists at my sides.
I needed to get a damn grip.
It might’ve been best if I went ahead and just met them at the judge’s chambers since Rafe was doing such afantasticjob escorting my bride around.
The damn thought hadn’t even formed properly and the two of them stood before me. Snow’s gaze flicked to mine, and an electric current zipped through my veins the instant those green eyes collided with mine.
My throat went dry, and my lungs worked ten times as hard to get some air into them.
This was fucking ridiculous.
Swallowing the damn cactus down, I opened my mouth to greet her. “He—”
“Let’s get this over with.” She cut me off in a clipped tone.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
I flicked my gaze to Rafe and said, “Give us a minute?”
He eyed me, then Snow, then shifted his attention back to me. I saw the protest, and before he could voice it, I added a firm, “Please?”
A few stretched-out moments passed before he nodded and stepped away. Immediately turning my focus back on my not-so-blushing bride, I openly studied her. And one-hundred-percent did not like what I saw.
Don’t get me wrong, the purple dress wrapped around her body was stunning. The spiky heels on her feet did strange things to my insides in the best way possible.
It was her red-rimmed eyes and the quiver in her lush bottom lip I had a problem with.
“Do you not want to do this?” I asked. My voice was harsher than I’d intended, but it had the desired effect.
Her gaze immediately snapped back to mine. “What?”
“Listen.” I slicked my tongue over my teeth, searching my brain for the correct wording. “I might not be well-versed in the emotional states of the opposite sex, but in general, when someone cries, it’s usually not a good sign.”
“All brides cry on their wedding day.”
I quirked a brow. “You’re telling me those are happy tears?”
Snow opened her mouth then slammed it shut again. Her throat worked on a swallow, and much to my dismay, her eyes lowered to her feet.
I had the strangest urge to tuck fingers beneath her chin and guide those pretty green irises back to me. Thank fuck I had enough brain cells left not to act on that particular impulse.
A good thing, too, because when her gaze finally flicked up to mine again, she looked pissed.
“Why do you care?”
She had a point, but I didn’t have an answer. I couldn’t tell her why the sight of her sadness felt like someone had plunged a knife into my chest. I couldn’t tell her why my fingers itched to wipe those tears away if they decided to fall.
I couldn’t tell her because I didn’t fucking know.
“I don’t,” I said gruffly. “I don’t want the judge to think you’re being forced into this. It’s imperative that everyone believes this marriage to be real.”
It was freaky how fast she schooled her features and pulled her shoulders back. Keeping her gaze on me, she batted her lashes and stretched her mouth into a smile.
“Better?”
It wasn’t. She still seemed sad, and I still felt…I didn’t even know how I felt about it. Not good. But what the hell was the alternative? Walk away and lose the only thing I had left of my mother?
“Much,” I lied through clenched teeth. Holding my arm out, I repeated her earlier words, “Shall we get this over with?”