Chapter 29
CHAPTER 29
R ockwell
I stand at the altar, a white linen-covered table teeming with pink and green flowers and foliage. Bronson and a line of men stand to my right, dressed in three-piece suits with silk ties, women to my left, donned in couture gowns. Claudia, my best man, is to my left, wearing a black gown, she says, as a funeral to my bachelorhood and, as she so lovingly added, stupidity, making me promise never to make such a mistake with my precious Lily again.
I will never.
White lights twinkle like stars, strung above us on the rooftop bar we typically use for this purpose. Soft music plays and the scent of garlic and butter, food being prepared for afterwards, lingers in the warm night breeze.
I wait.
My bride arrives at the end of the rows of people. Her beauty takes my breath away, and air hitches in my lungs as I take her in, from the pretty veil she wears perched at the top of her head to the simple, elegant thin-strapped gown she wears, the material shifting over her curves as she moves.
Her eyes find me and she smiles, lighting up my whole world.
Slowly, she makes her way down the aisle alone, fingers clutching the bouquet of orchids she holds. Finally, she reaches me. I hand the flowers to Claudia to take care of, grabbing both of her hands in mine.
Everyone is holding candles, the mood somber. Bronson has taken the place of the last officiant, now ready to perform our private family ceremony. He looks down at Lily with a serious gaze and says, “It is time you pledge your life to the Bachman family. Once you have done this, the only release from your vow is death. Do you understand?”
I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. She smiles at me and then at Bronson. Her voice is clear as she says, “I understand.”
I slip a red leather box from my pocket, the words Bachman’s Jewelers swirled across the top in gold lettering.
Her eyes widen, looking down at the emerald-cut diamond she already wears on her ring finger. She gives me a curious look, having no idea what could be in the box or what the next steps of our ceremony are.
I offer her a smile, opening the lid of the box and revealing a beautiful sword pendant. Aquamarine jewels the same color as my eyes sparkle within its gold outline. I step behind her, slipping the necklace around her neck and clasping it.
Her pink manicured fingers go to the charm, fingering the pendant I’ve had made just for her.
Bronson speaks slowly, clearly, his words not only for her to hear, but a reminder for the rest of us of our own pledges, the ones we’ve made to this family.
He says with reverence, “The sword is a symbol of our creed, the way we live our lives, the care and protection of a man for a woman. The sword signifies your place of peace underneath Rockwell’s protection—the length he is willing to go to, the sacrifice he would willingly make. He will offer you his protection and care the remainder of his life.”
I would not only die for her; I would kill for her, too. I stand before her saying, “I freely give you this symbol as a sign of my dedication to your wellbeing and my willingness, the lengths I would go to for your safety.” I smile. “Do you accept?”
“I do.”
I lean down, brushing a kiss across her lips.
And the evening turns from ceremony to a lively party. We dance, late into the night, her in my arms.
She’s one of us now. And so is our baby. I kneel down, kissing her soft belly, celebrating the baby made from our love. Tears spring to my eyes, finally getting the happily ever after I’d convinced myself I’d never experience.
Bronson and his wife join us.
Bronson shakes my hand. “Congratulations. Remember this day, Rockwell. This magic. It will get you through the hard times when they come.” He glances over at his wife, Paige, red lips all smiles as she chats with Lily. A soft grin comes over his face. “If you can remember the way you feel in this moment, everything else pales in comparison.”
Great advice from a man who has been happily married for a long time. “I will. Thank you.”
Hard times will come. But none will be as hard as the time I was without her.
I take her back in my arms, never wanting to let her go. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper into her ear, “You’re my everything. You and our baby. I love you. So much.”
“I love you, too.” She leans up on tiptoe, wraps her arms around my neck, and kisses me. Pulling away, she giggles as she says, “Husband of mine.”
“Husband. I love how that sounds when you say it. Say it again,” I grab her ass, squeezing in command.
“Rockwell Bachman. My husband. Now, New York City’s least eligible bachelor because he’s taken. By me.”
“Thank God,” Claudia says as she walks by, handing us flutes of champagne. “Does this mean I have to take the plaque down forever?”
“Yes,” I say. “Forever. For always.”
We raise our glasses, celebrating with cheers. Megan comes up, Elly chasing behind her. The little girl grabs my wife’s hand, demanding a dance with her big sister in her adorable Welsh accent.
I watch the sisters as they dance, thinking of the first time I saw Lily, desperate and alone at the register of that store. I had no idea how desperate and alone I was. She’s not only changed my life for the better as my wife, but she’s now the sister to Megan, sister-in-law to Claudia, and mother to my unborn child.
She’s saved me from myself. She’s not just my wife. She’s my miracle. And miracles can’t happen if you won’t take the chance, take the risk, and be willing to get hurt again.
Because the next time you fall, it might be right into the arms of the true love of your life.
The End