Chapter 53
Xander
Sloan and Marcus’s wedding celebrations took place over the first week of June. Just in time for the start of summer.
After five days of celebrations—a mehndi , a sangeet , a Vidhi , and a few dinners sprinkled in between—that stretched from the Hamptons to the Amari country house, back to Manhattan, Sloan
was exhausted.
She’d fallen asleep twice while getting ready for the final ceremony this morning: the wedding.
My phone buzzed inside my tux’s jacket pocket, but I ignored it as I opened the door to Sloan’s dressing room.
“You’re supposed to be sitting.” I walked in to see Sloan pacing back and forth.
“I can’t sit still. I’m excited.” The scent of jasmine and sandalwood wafted past her as she walked. “I’m getting married,
Xan.”
“I know.” I chuckled. A few more buzzes in my pocket in rapid succession reminded me that she needed to take a breather. “You’re
supposed to be sitting.”
Marcus, who was normally a little extra cautious when it came to Sloan’s safety, was a menace. He and Henry both were. I got
calls or texts every hour or so when the happy couple wasn’t in the same room together asking how she was, if she’d eaten,
if she was tired.
“Pregnant women run marathons,” Sloan pointed out.
I rolled my eyes at the comparison. Sloan once signed up for a 5K. It ended with her vomit on my shoes and sitting on a curb
a quarter of the way through, eating doughnuts.
“You threw up in the first half of the Alumni 5K.” I pointed to the tufted chaise. “What’s your point?”
“I’m just saying,” she groaned. I helped her onto the chaise, careful with the ornate lehenga skirt so the hand-stitched gems didn’t catch on the fabric. “You don’t need to treat me like I’m made of glass.”
Sloan was pregnant.
It was very early on. When we landed in Manhattan a week ago, before all the festivities began, they told me, Henry, Selena,
and Penelope.
“I know you’re fine.” I pulled the ottoman to the side of the chaise and sat on it. “But to appease your crazy soon-to-be
husband, just relax for five minutes and I’ll tell him you were napping this whole time.”
“Thanks, Xan.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, by the way—”
“I said relax,” I repeated, exasperated.
“I can’t do that.” She gestured directionless with her hands; eyes still closed. “Have you talked to Pen yet?”
I ran a hand down my face. At least she was sitting. “About?”
“Oh, you haven’t.” She opened one eye, smiled smugly, and closed it.
We didn’t really keep important secrets, so I knew this had to be silly or a surprise. “Does it have anything to do with what
you and Penelope have been giggling about without me?”
Sloan, Selena, and Penelope kept sneaking off and talking amongst themselves. I didn’t know what they were planning but I
hated being left out of it. More than that, I wasn’t prepared for how much it bothered me when Penelope had secrets, even
silly ones, with anyone else.
“Jealous, Xan? Don’t worry, she still likes you.”
“She loves me,” I corrected. “And you’re deflecting. What’s going on?”
“Ask your wife,” she insisted.
“No, I’m asking you.” I gave her a hard stare, but she didn’t break.
Instead, she crossed her arms defiantly.
“Would you mind getting me a little snack? The baby is hungry.” She said it with a haughty look, knowing it would work.
“Does that work on Marcus?”
“Every time.” She grinned. “If you don’t want to get something to eat for your niece , I can always ask Uncle Henry...”
She grinned even wider when I stood up.
“This conversation isn’t over.”
“Okay but have it with your wife.” She shooed me out of the room.
“And jalebi please!” she shouted as the door closed behind me.
***
Perched between the soaring tower that was Rockefeller Center, historic St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and a number of Manhattan
landmarks, the lofted rooftop venue Sloan had chosen for the reception was picturesque.
High-top tables lined a sparkling reflective pool and fountain. Grass spread alongside a granite path with small plants and
greenery punctuating the outdoor oasis. The views from all angles were of the stunning city on all sides.
My eyes found Penelope in a second, leaning her arms against the decorated balcony, she looked out at the city. The warm summer
night’s breeze swept along her deep green lehenga .
“There you are.” I bracketed my hands against the balcony on either side of her.
After the two ceremonies, and cocktail hour, the reception was in full swing. As predicted, Sloan and Marcus were nowhere to be found and I wasn’t about to go looking.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
It was. The rooftop garden was lush and perfectly manicured, if it weren’t for the soaring buildings that stretched up in
all directions, you’d forget you were in Manhattan. It was a reprieve from the reception inside.
“You know we should probably plan ours.” I wrapped my arms around her bare waist.
There was a serene calm being out here, not just because the entire building and the surrounding ones were closed and emptied
to ensure privacy, but being back in this city was always wonderful.
“Our what?” She leaned back but turned her head to me.
“Wedding.”
It was almost a year since the one we had on the beach in the Hamptons.
“We had our wedding, darling.” A wistful look swept across her face. She took a deep, contented sigh. “I don’t want another
story.”
I didn’t either. Our wedding was a lie that ended up becoming the truth. But Arabella and Olivia missed it. Her mom did, too.
I didn’t want her to look back on that day with any regrets.
“Not a new story.” I pressed a kiss against her hair. “A rewrite. I think a few characters were missing.”
She laughed, shook her head, and turned in my arms. “Olivia and Bella will be around for the next chapters. But that day...
it’s perfect.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded and looked down at her ring. “Besides, you’re never getting this ring off my finger again.”
“Trust me, Poppy.” My thumbs stroked circles on her hips. “It’s not what I like taking off of you.”
She ran her teeth over her bottom lip, and I started thinking of all the rooms we could sneak off to for a little while.
“I know that look.” Penelope’s voice dropped to a warning. “The Mishra design team hand-stitched every single gem on this
dress. You cannot rip it.”
“I’ll be gentle.” I brushed a kiss against her lips. She eased slightly, leaning forward into me.
“Only with the dress,” she negotiated.
“Deal.” I leaned in. “If you tell me what you, Sloan, and Selena have been giggling about the last week.”
Not knowing something about her bothered me more than I liked to admit.
She straightened, pressing her lips together, but the corners of her mouth tipped up.
“Seriously, what is going on?” I wrapped my arms around her waist tightly.
“I’m sorry, darling, I was trying to make sure I had all my ducks in a row before I asked you something.” She grinned.
“And that something is?”
“Well... we were talking about Sloan’s Park Avenue town house.” She casually threw her arms over my shoulders. The moonlight
glinted through her eyes. “Since she moved out two years ago it’s been empty, and Arabella would love it. Lots of shopping
and fun close by for her to make friends.”
“Penelope...” My pulse ticked up.
“With her divorce, she wants a new start. And she’s chosen Manhattan for it.” Penelope ran her teeth over her lip again, this
time she looked a little nervous. “What would you say to another city?”
My heart leapt. I was happy anywhere she was, but I would be the first to admit I missed it here.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t pack up the whole penthouse,” I teased.
“I warned you. And you said it yourself: I have no plan.”
I smiled. “Nope. Just a spreadsheet and an engagement ring.”
“So, then...” She shifted her weight between her legs. “Is that okay? Moving back?”
“I’ll follow you to every corner of the world. You know that.”
“Then, ask me the question.” Her arms slid down my shoulders, resting on my chest. A hopeful timbre squeaked through.
“Which question?”
She scrunched her nose and yanked on my lapels. “You know the one.”
I chuckled. “Where are we going, Poppy?”
She looked up at me with a grin that still filled my entire chest with warmth; excitement sparkled in her eyes. She gazed
out at the Manhattan skyline, blanketed in darkness but lit up in all its glory, muted only by her blinding light. “Home.”