Chapter 29 Perry
PERRY
Damian’s hands drift all over me, searching for a zipper while we kiss each other raw. There’s no bed in this room, but we’ll make do with the counter at the vanity. Just gotta be careful of the lightbulbs down the sides of the mirrors. They stick out, and they’re hot.
Damian reaches beneath my dress for my underwear, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, he cups his hand over the underwear, mashing his palm against my clit while his fingers search for skin beneath the edges of lace.
I can’t believe he wants to stay with me after everything I did.
Some loudmouth in my brain doesn’t believe it, thinks this is all a trick so he can make me fall harder for him, only to dump me in a month.
It’s the kind of bullshit I used to pull when a man hurt me, so of course I think one would do that to me.
But that’s not Damian’s style. He’s nothing if not honest.
I’m lost to his touch, and when his fingers find their target, I gasp in his mouth. Two dip into me, just the tips at first. “Mm, yes!”
“That feel good, baby?”
I bob my head. “Don’t stop—”
His mouth is still on mine when the door handle rattles.
We freeze.
For half a second, we just stare at each other, breath tangled, hands still busy. My dress is slightly hitched up my thighs, his jacket hangs open, and the suite lights are far too honest.
The door swings open, and Damian jerks away, turning to face our intruder, while also blocking their view of me so I can straighten up.
It’s Faith.
She stands there, bouquet gone, veil removed, hair slightly loosened from dancing. She takes in the scene in one sweep. Not scandalized. Not shocked. “Well,” she says calmly. “That answers that.”
I jerk backward, heat rushing to my face. “Faith—”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Relax. I’m not here to yell.”
Damian straightens, smoothing his jacket automatically. “We weren’t—”
“You were,” she interrupts lightly. “I have eyes, Damian.” There’s no accusation in her tone. Just mild impatience while I get myself together.
When I do, she says, “The car is ready. We’re heading off for the airport.”
It takes me a second to process. “Are you serious?”
“We have a honeymoon to get to,” she clarifies.
I stare at her. “You’re…going?”
“Yes.”
“With him?”
She lifts one brow. “That is generally how honeymoons work.”
I glance toward the hallway instinctively, half expecting Jason to storm in again. The memory of his fury is still hot in my chest. “I thought…” How do I even end that sentence?
I thought you understood that he’s a cheating asshole.
I thought you had more self-respect than this.
“You thought I’d call it off?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She studies me for a moment. “I considered it.”
“And?” I ask quietly.
“And he panicked. He thought he was losing control. He thought he was losing me.”
“And that makes it okay?” I press.
“It makes it understandable.”
I blink. “Faith. He’s not our father. You don’t need to be understanding about any of this.”
She steps into the room fully now, shutting the door behind her. “He wasn’t serious. He was freaking out about getting married. You know him.”
“I do,” I say flatly. “That’s why I don’t understand how you can forgive it.”
She tilts her head. “Because he wasn’t trying to get you back. He was trying to prove to himself he still could.”
“That’s worse,” I say.
“It’s pathetic,” she corrects.
The bluntness surprises me. “We can agree on that.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Temperance. I don’t marry pathetic men without leverage.”
Damian watches this exchange with quiet intensity, saying nothing.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Faith smiles faintly. “It means I’m not naive.”
“I can’t believe you’re just…fine,” I say.
“I’m not fine. I’m pragmatic.” She reaches for my hand briefly. “You don’t need to protect me from my husband’s stupidity.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You were.” Her eyes soften slightly. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary.”
“How is it not? You just admitted that he’s a pathetic man who tried to use me to boost his ego.”
“That’s true. It’s also true that I made him sign an updated prenup. One that says that if he ever so much as tries to hit on another woman, he will have to pay me ten million dollars.”
Damian laughs. “That’s one hell of a clause. Good for you.”
She smiles. “Thank you. Now, we are leaving in five minutes. Try to look less flushed when you come to see us off.” The door opens again. She pauses and looks back at me. “And for what it’s worth. I’m glad it was him.” Then she’s gone.
And I’m left standing there, stunned. Reconciling the version of my sister who just walked out of here with the woman who used to cry if her nail polish was chipped before a school dance does something to my brain that I can’t quite get a grip on.
“She’s not as fragile as you think,” Damian says quietly.
“I don’t think she’s fragile,” I reply automatically. “I think she deserves better.”
He studies me. “She’s choosing her version of better.”
That unsettles me more than if he had agreed with me. I turn toward him slowly. “You heard what he said to me.”
“Yes.”
“And she’s just…fine.”
“Like she said, she’s not fine,” Damian corrects. “She’s strategic.”
“I think she’s protecting herself,” I admit. “I’m just not sure ten million is enough protection from how Jason can make a woman feel.”
“Faith isn’t pretending Jason is perfect. She’s betting on probability,” Damian says. “She’s a gambler. If she gets her perfect happily ever after, she wins. If he cheats, she wins. Smart woman.”
“Maybe we have more in common than I thought.”
Damian’s mouth curves faintly. “I’d say so.”
I smooth my dress again, adjusting fabric that doesn’t need adjusting. “I’m going to be happy for her.”
He studies me carefully. “Are you?”
“I’m going to try.” Because maybe this is what growth looks like. Just letting people choose their own mess.
We join the crowd to see off the happy couple. Laughter erupts somewhere outside, and then the noise swells as the entire wedding crowd begins funneling toward the entrance.
Damian offers me his hand without thinking. I take it.
We step out into the hallway together, merging into the current of guests moving toward the front of the venue. The air outside is cooler now, evening settling in properly. Pink and gold fireworks streak the night sky.
A vintage Rolls Royce sits at the end of the drive, polished and gleaming, white ribbons fluttering from the side mirrors. Faith stands beside it, bouquet gone, veil tucked into one hand. Jason is at her side, his arm curved around her waist like nothing bad has ever happened in their lives.
They look happy. Or at least, they look convincing.
The guests gather in a loose semicircle. Someone passes out sparklers. Another person begins counting down prematurely, and a ripple of laughter corrects them.
I watch Faith closely. She meets my eyes once. There is no accusation there. Just something steady.
Jason doesn’t look at me at all. He’s too busy playing the role of doting husband.
Amber appears at our side unexpectedly. Meron is with her, one hand resting lightly at the small of her back. He looks slightly subdued tonight, less sharp-edged.
She turns to me. Her expression is different than usual. “I owe you an apology.”
The words are quiet enough that only the four of us can hear.
I blink. “Come again?”
“For earlier,” she continues. “I was out of line. It was an emotional day. For everyone.”
That might be the understatement of the century. “Certainly.”
She holds my gaze steadily. “I am sorry, Perry. I hope you can forgive me.”
For a moment, I just stare at her.
This woman has been my antagonist for months, maybe years in smaller ways when I was dating Jason. And now she’s standing in front of me, asking for something close to grace.
The sparklers ignite around us, small flames flickering in growing brightness.
“I don’t want this to be a family war,” she says softly. “Not with babies involved.”
The word catches in my chest. Babies. She doesn’t say bastard or illegitimate.
I look at Meron. He avoids my eyes. I’m not sure why.
The newlyweds climb into the car. Cheers erupt. Sparklers wave in arcs of light. The engine starts. It’s all so choreographed that I could close my eyes and know what happens.
Faith leans out the window and blows a kiss toward the crowd. Jason does the same. The car rolls forward slowly through the tunnel of light. Even Amber looks happy as they pull away.
Standing there in the fading sparks and cooling air, something in me unclenches.
The sparklers burn down to thin wire stems, and one by one, guests begin dropping them into the metal buckets placed along the drive. The smell of smoke lingers in the air, sharp and metallic, mixing with perfume and champagne and autumn chill.
I study Amber carefully before I answer. “One day,” I say slowly, “when my sons get married, I hope someone gives me grace for whatever evil, hurtful, cruel things I might say out of fear or insecurity.”
Amber’s lips press together, but she doesn’t look offended.
“Because I will say them,” I continue. “I will probably be insufferable. I will think I know what’s best. I will feel protective in ways that don’t make sense to anyone else.”
She nods faintly.
“And if someone forgives me for that, I hope I’m self-aware enough to appreciate it.” The silence between us softens. “So, I forgive you, Amber.”
She exhales slowly, something in her posture releasing. “Thank you.”
I look at Meron then. “But I do have one condition.”
Meron stiffens.
Amber glances sideways at him, then back at me. “I’m listening.”
“If we’re going to try whatever this is,” I say, gesturing vaguely between us, “then I’d like it to start with you convincing your boyfriend to give Damian his job back.”
Meron makes a small, disapproving sound. “That was a business decision, and I do not reverse business decisions. It’s what’s best for the hospital.”
Amber clears her throat. That’s all it takes.
Meron sniffs, having lost an invisible argument. “Bygones, right, Damian?”
Damian doesn’t look amused. “Sure. But I’m still not coming back to the hospital. I have other things I’d like to accomplish.”
That’s news to me.
Meron visibly relaxes at that. “Very well. The door is always open.”
It’s an easy concession when it costs him nothing.
Amber slips her arm through Meron’s. “We’ll leave you two to your evening.” There’s no venom left in her tone. They walk away together, Meron leaning down to say something that makes Amber roll her eyes and laugh softly.
I watch them go. The drive is nearly empty now. Guests must have drifted back inside. The night feels cooler. For the first time today, I feel like the ground beneath my feet is steady.
Damian remains beside me, hands in his pockets, gaze steady on the dark road where the car disappeared. “You handled that well.”
“So did you.”
He gives a small shrug, but there’s pride in the way he holds himself now. “I meant what I said. I’m not going back to the hospital.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve rarely been more sure of anything.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He looks at me then, really looks at me. “I’m going to be a father. And a partner. If you’ll let me.”
I step closer without thinking. I have to know. “You don’t feel trapped?”
He almost laughs. “If this is a trap, it’s a very poorly constructed one. Too many escape routes.”
I laugh, and he pulls me in for a sudden kiss.