Chapter Thirteen
Christian
W alking into the small ballroom I reserved for the night feels like stepping into a fairy-tale. Maybe an odd observation for a grown man to make, but I can’t think of any other way to describe the enchanting atmosphere Chantelle created for us. Fairy-like lights hang from the silk-draped ceiling, lined with boughs of ivy. Tables, elaborately decorated with sequined linens, lit candles, and intricate floral arrangements, fill the space.
I glance down at Roxy to gauge her reaction and have to stop myself from grinning too wide. Her glittering eyes roam the ballroom, taking it all in with barely contained wonder. "Christian." My name comes out as a whisper on her lips.
I lean down, resting my palm on the small of her back. "Do you like it?"
She blinks repeatedly, staring at me as if I've somehow earned her disapproval. "It's way too much."
"Says who?"
"Says me." Her throat ripples on a swallow. "This isn't supposed to be real." Something I desperately want to dissect flickers in her eyes before her purse buzzes, ruining the moment. “Oh, that’s probably Axel.” She digs through her tiny crossbody purse and retrieves her phone. But her face falls the instant she reads the text. “Um. Can you excuse me for a sec?”
I nod as she skirts around the doorway into the hall. I try not to listen in on her conversation, but her voice echoes off the marble walls all the same.
“Really, Axel? This is important. You told me you’d be here.” A deep sigh echoes through the hall. “All right, fine. Don’t come, but—” She pauses. “What am I supposed to tell everyone? That my nephew would rather mess around with his buddies than celebrate my wedding?”
At her scoffing laugh, I wince. I don’t know Axel well enough to guess what’s really going on with him, but I know what it’s like to be his age. A night like tonight would’ve been the last thing I wanted to do too. “Okay,” she says on a sigh. “Well. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Night.” Her heels click against the tile floor just before she rounds the doorway.
“Everything okay?”
Her smile tightens. “Uh, yeah. Axel won’t be joining us tonight, though.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, giving her upper arm a light squeeze. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s fine, he’s just...not coping well lately.” She blinks away what look to be tears and gazes at the guests, who haven't seemed to notice us yet. "How many people did you invite?"
I suppress a grimace and turn toward her, going with the swift subject change. "I pretty much gave Chantelle full leave to invite whoever she wanted. I'm sorry if that was the wrong thing to do."
"No, no. It's fine. It just…looks like a lot."
I eye the crowd and estimate there to be about forty people in attendance. Certainly more than I prefer, but markedly less than if I'd given the task to Mom. I'm counting this a win in my book.
Speaking of Mom...she's the first to spot us, making a practical scene by raising her hands and trilling, "They're here!"It only takes seconds for Roxy and me to be swarmed with well-wishers. Mom's first, of course, planting a kiss on my cheek, then staring in awe at Roxy. "Oh, you two look absolutely lovely together. Christian, I can’t believe this is the first time I’m meeting your bride.” Disappointment bleeds from her voice as she places both hands on Roxy’s shoulders. “Welcome to the family, Roxy.” Without warning, Mom sweeps her into an embrace.
Roxy blinks at me over Mom’s shoulder and gently hugs her back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Price.”
“Please,” Mom tuts. “Call me Amanda.” Mom barely has time to step away before Aja, Dad's assistant, appears at Roxy’s side, full of congratulations. The two begin chattering back and forth while Mom sidles up next to me. “She’s lovely, Christian.” I can’t help but agree. Any man would be lucky to call Roxy his own. “I expect the both of you at family dinner tomorrow evening.”
My mouth pops open to decline, but Mom stops me with a look. “No, sir, you’re not hiding her away now. I want to know all about my new daughter-in-law.” I nod, unable to do much else. “Dad told me you didn’t request any time off work, so I know you’re not taking a honeymoon.” At least ten explanations leap to my tongue but again, I don’t have a chance to voice them. “Which is understandable. He says there’s a lot going on at the office. But I do hope you give that woman a proper honeymoon once things slow down.” Her penetrating gaze says I’d better comply or else.
“Of course.” I dip my chin, hoping to end this conversation before she can comment any more on what I should or shouldn’t do on my honeymoon. By the time Mom steps away, Roxy’s across the room with Aja. I feel the absence of her instantly. Until Dad waltzes up with a grim expression.
“I suppose congratulations are in order.” He sticks his hand out for me to shake, and when I take it, he jerks me close enough to whisper, “Is this your way of getting back at me?”
“Not at all,” I say, forcing an even tone. “Roxy isn’t some pawn I’m trying to use against you. She’s my wife .”
His gaze narrows as he stands back to look at me, probably trying to gauge the truth for himself. Taking a long sip from his champagne glass, his gaze strays to where Mom is engaged in conversation with one of our employees. “Your mother believes your little love story hook, line, and sinker.” Meeting my eyes, he finishes with, “But I have my doubts.”
I scoff. “That tracks.”
Something calculating passes through his eyes and he takes a half step closer. “If this is some defiant act of rebellion as I suspect, it won’t sway my decision. You might have technically followed through with the first part of the contract, but let’s not forget the future of the company.”
“You mean kids.”
His lips lift into what can only be described as a sneer. “I mean children, yes. A family. And don’t think I’ll accept a wayward stepchild as the heir we discussed.”
Anger burns inside me so hot I think I might explode. I’m not even sure how he found out about Axel, but I suppose he has his ways. He turns, giving me another reason to want to ban him from this celebration.
“I hope you don’t mind, son,” he says with false sincerity as he gestures toward the impeccably dressed man sauntering toward us. “But when Maxwell heard of your upcoming nuptials, he insisted on attending the reception.”
I run my tongue over my teeth, doing my best to keep every rude remark I want to hurl at him buried down deep. Maxwell Greggario, Stefany’s father, and his wife Elaina come to stand beside him.
“Congratulations, Christian,” Mr. Greggario says. “I hope you don’t mind the impertinence.” The way his eyes alight with satisfaction dare me to call him out on it.
“Not at all.” My manufactured smile feels as if it’ll crack any second. “I’m glad you both could come.”
“Oh, Stefany’s here too!” Mrs. Greggario chimes. “She didn’t believe Maxwell when he told us the news. I must say, I had a hard time believing it myself. The elusive Christian Price off the market? Stolen by someone other than Stefany?” Mrs. Greggario’s words drip with passive-aggression. “Well, it’s a crime, if you ask me!” She laughs at her own joke, a shrill, biting sound that indicates exactly how irritated my recent marriage makes her.
I suppress a groan when I see Stefany heading toward us with a bubbly drink suspended in one hand. “Hi, Chris,” she says in a low, sultry tone. “Always good to see you.” Her shrewd gaze flits around the ballroom. “Even if it is like this.”
She looks the same as always: Near perfect, with not an auburn hair out of place. But nothing stirs inside me at seeing her again. Nothing other than mild frustration that she thought this would be a good time for a reunion. “Stefany.” I incline my head toward her. “Glad you could make it.” Our parents move to my periphery, engaging in huddled conversation. Likely gossiping about something I’d rather not be privy to.
Stefany chuckles. “I doubt you’re glad that I’m here, but I couldn’t help it. I had to see you. Had to see the truth for myself.”
“Stefany—”
“Do you love her?” Her wide, unblinking eyes beg for me to say no. To tell her none of this is real.
“Stefany,” I try again, keeping my tone neutral. “I’m not sure what you hoped to find here tonight, but this is my wedding reception. I’m married and committed to Roxy.”
Hurt flashes in her eyes before she works her mouth into a too-bright-to-be-real smile. “Of course you are. You always were noble to a fault.” Before I even register her movement, she grips my forearm, digging her nails into my skin. “This should have been us, Chris,” she whispers, leaning into me. Her spicy sweet scent overwhelms me as she presses a kiss to my cheek. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Then she retreats as quickly as she came, sashaying away like she owns the hotel.
Dad reappears at my side, eyeing Stefany’s departure with a raised brow. “And to think, she could’ve been yours.”
I grit my teeth and clap Dad on the shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to my wife. This is our wedding celebration, after all.”
I stalk toward Roxy, leaving Dad and his antiquated ideals behind, but before I reach her, I’m stopped by Thor’s booming voice.
“Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been keeping a secret from his friends." His deep chuckle gives me hope that he and the rest of my close friends won't disown me for this.
"I'm sorry," I say, hating that I've kept this from them. But the fewer people who know the truth, the better. "You know how it is when you're in love."
"I'm happy for you, man.” Thor claps me on the shoulder. “Really. Just wish we could've met her long before now."
"Right?" Caius says, moving in to shake my hand. "Maybe he was afraid she'd take one look at us and forget all about him." His teasing smile widens as the rest of them laugh at my expense.
"You're not entirely wrong," I say, shaking Des's hand next. "She's got a thing for tattooed bikers."
Des chuckles. "Better watch your pretty new wife around this guy, then." He tips his head toward a flexing Thor.
"Don't worry," Chantelle says, skipping forward. "She's only got eyes for you, Chris." Placing both hands on my shoulders, she reaches up to peck my cheek. "Congratulations; I'm so happy for you two." I meet her eyes as she steps back and silently question her sincerity. But she doesn't falter, not for a split second. "Do you like what I had done to the place?"
I glance around, appreciating the ambiance again. "It's perfect. Breathtaking, really."
"Why, thank you." She dips into a tiny curtsy. "I took your advice and went all out. Jude says I could have a career in party planning."
Her fiancé appears and puts a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her back toward him. "You absolutely could, Peanut. You know...in case the whole romance thing doesn't work out."
She smiles and leans into him, nuzzling his cheek with the tip of her nose. "Oh, I'd say romance is working just fine for me."
"Get a room, you two." Holt charges up to our group and hands me a glass of something fizzy. "Thought you could use a drink."
I sniff the bubbles and smile. "Grape juice?"
Holt shrugs. "What can I say, I know you.”
I take a sip, then address my best friends. "Thank you guys for coming. I know this was last minute and a total surprise to most of you, but it really means a lot that you're here."
"Christian?" I turn to see Roxy nervously fidgeting at the edge of the half-circle we've formed. "Are these the rest of your friends?"
"They are." I gently grip her fingertips and pull her to my side. "Everyone, this is Roxy. Roxy, this is...everyone."
Chantelle sweeps forward like the mother hen she's proving to be. "Let me make the introductions." Linking her arm through Roxy’s, she quickly introduces her to each of the guys by name, giving her a unique detail about each one as she goes.
“So this is the group you didn’t want me to meet, huh?” Roxy laughs, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze. “I get it now. They’re all quite charming.”
A low growl builds in my chest before I can even reason why it would be there, and my arm goes around her waist. “Don’t make me stake my claim right here in front of everyone.” Her smile fades when I lean close and whisper, “I’m half-tempted to do it with as beautiful as you are in that dress.”
Her body erupts in a shiver, and I have to force myself to put some space between us. “All right, Party Planner,” I address Chantelle. “What’s next?”
“Dinner is about to be served, so everyone can take their seats.”
I grab Roxy’s hand and direct her toward the table set for two. Thirty minutes later, after everyone is seated and dinner is served, Chantelle stands, clinking her glass with a fork. “Excuse me, may I have your attention, please?” All eyes turn toward her. “The bride and groom have decided to forego any speeches this evening, but I would like to say a word before we dismiss to cut the cake, then retire to the dance floor.” Chantelle locks eyes with me. “Since I’ve known Chris, he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at Roxy. And though their whirlwind romance may come as a shock to some of us, it makes sense for them.”
She lifts her glass toward Roxy. “Roxy, though I haven’t known you long, it’s easy to see how perfectly you complete my friend. You’re kind, sacrificial. You have a heart for others, just like Chris. I have no doubt that the two of you will be very happy together.”
Everyone claps as Chantelle blows us a kiss. My hand instinctively tightens on Roxy’s where it rests on the table. Her deep emerald eyes meet mine, questioning. Something significant passes between us, something I want to delve deeper into—
“Now for the cake!” Chantelle trills, zapping the tension between Roxy and me. Hurrying over to our side, she murmurs, “Just wait until you see this.” She motions to where two attendants roll out a beautiful three-tiered cake, topped with an array of purple and pink flowers. Roxy gasps.
“What is it?” I ask, squeezing her hand.
“My favorite flowers. Bellflowers and pink daffodils.” Chantelle preens with pride as Roxy turns toward her. “It’s gorgeous, Chantelle. Everything is absolutely perfect.” The two embrace, and Chantelle winks at me over Roxy’s shoulder.
We cut the cake and barely have time to eat two bites before Chantelle directs us to the dance floor.
As soon as the lights dim and Roxy’s in my arms, we’re swaying to a song I’ve never heard before. It’s a low, sultry melody that makes everything about this night feel real. Too real. Still, I don’t stop myself from bringing Roxy closer. Nor do I balk when she rests her head on my chest, close enough to feel the erratic beat of my heart.
“This is so much more than I ever could’ve imagined,” she whispers so low I hardly hear it. “Even for a real wedding.” Her sad statement tugs at my heart.
“I know it was a lot, but I hope you’re at least enjoying yourself a little.”
She lifts her head and blinks up at me. “You and Chantelle have given me an experience I’ll never forget. Never did I think I’d get to have the wedding of my dreams, but...you two gave it to me. And for that, I’ll always be grateful. Even if—” She stops herself and averts her gaze.
“Even if what?”
She rolls her lips inward. “Even if it’s not real.”
Emotion I’m not used to feeling swells inside me, warring with the carefully laid plans I’ve constructed in my head. Once again, her words tug at some deeper part of me, begging me to give her whatever she wants. The woman denies herself so much, thinks so little of herself, that even the vestiges of a relationship are like gold to her. It’s impossible not to want to give her the world.
I draw her close again, feeling the heat of her body radiate through where my palm rests on her back. I let myself breathe in her jasmine perfume, allow my heart to pretend that it has some type of claim on her, if only for this dance.
Because I know tonight’s shadow of marital bliss will be chased away come morning.