Chapter Thirty-One
Grace
The wedding is overwhelming. I’m actually shocked the ceremony happened at all. When Andreas said Huxley’s plane still hadn’t landed three hours before the starting time, I thought he was going to have his revenge by not showing at all, thereby humiliating me in front of everyone. Viv would’ve pointed and laughed hysterically with joy, and Karie would’ve smiled that smarmy, simpering smirk she always uses when she doesn’t want to seem overtly pleased.
But Huxley came. And he defended the questionable choices for the wedding and my gown, making it clear to everyone it’s actually quite fashionable to have “Amazing Grace” and a black gown.
He’s a very intelligent man. He has to know why I picked black. And yet he defended me.
Why did he change his stance? I can’t reconcile the heartless man who told me our marriage might as well be a funeral and doesn’t care about our baby with the man who took revenge on Nelson for me and made that perfect public statement to everyone.
Have I married a Jekyll and Hyde? And am I ever going to be able to tell which one I’m dealing with?
The reception is even more overwhelming. On paper, it looked fine. Order this and that. Make special arrangements for certain guests with food restrictions and allergies. Seat people here and there. Oh, and learn to waltz, because that’s going to be the first dance. Of course, Madison should’ve told me as soon as she found out rather than waiting until the week before, but overall the planning wasn’t that bad.
The actual event is insane. Toast after toast, glasses are raised. The music, the dancing, the constant press of people—it’s all simply too much. And then there’s the emotional rollercoaster I’ve been riding, all the way from fretting over the possibility that Huxley might not show to the shock of Viv’s outburst. These sorts of ups and downs are not what I’m used to. Not coming so quickly one after another, anyway.
Still, I manage to paste on a smile and fake being a happy bride. At least I’ve been spared morning sickness so far. It’d be a sight if I threw up in the middle of all this chaos.
Suddenly, it’s time for Huxley and me to have our first dance as a married couple. Oh crap. How do you waltz again? One-two-three…and…? The steps I practiced every night have disappeared from my memory. Panic surges, and I feel like a kid who’s blanking out on every word she memorized for a spelling bee.
“Breathe,” Huxley says as he leads me to the floor.
I inhale, trying to control the anxious flutter in my gut. He doesn’t smell like a man who was flying until three, four hours ago. His woodsy soap reminds me of the pine forest Mom and I visited on our last vacation together in Flagstaff, and it calms the agitation in my belly.
“I’m nervous.” I lick my dry lips.
His eyes drop briefly to my mouth before rising again. “It’s just a simple waltz.”
“Easy for you to say. You undoubtedly know how to waltz. You were probably born waltzing. I’ve barely had a week to master this.”
“Shouldn’t have procrastinated. Anyway, don’t worry. Follow my lead, and nobody’ll know if you mess up.”
I look at him, disbelieving.
A corner of his mouth quirks. “I promise. Just relax and leave it to me.” He puts a large, firm hand on my back. Despite my nerves, the warmth sends a spark of excitement along my spine.
The music starts, the strains from string instruments rising. My pulse races, anxiety and sexual anticipation mingling. He’s a man of large physical appetites, and he’s going to want me in his bed tonight.
“Breathe,” he says again.
I realize I’ve been holding my breath all this time. No wonder I felt worse and worse.
He waits for me to exhale, then gently moves to the beat. “You’re doing very well. You think I was born waltzing? You were born to waltz.” He waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly.
I laugh a little. He does a fancy twirl and dip, making my heart jump. “See?” He smiles.
I nod and smile back, even though I’m not sure about his motivations. He might be making an effort because he knows it was unfair to expect me to master the dance in a week, and he doesn’t want to look bad out here on the floor. On the other hand, I can’t deny that he’s being considerate, and even though it might not be entirely for my benefit, I feel myself softening toward him.
When our dance is over, I realize a lot of people have been recording it with their phones. Then more dances—with Ted and Andreas—and so many people I’ve never met on Huxley’s side of the family—mainly his brothers and their wives—come over to hug me and welcome me into the family. If they know the real story behind our marriage, they don’t show it. And Griffin, the brother Joey had a lot to say about, doesn’t look like a typical genteel academician. He has a dark, don’t-fuck-with-me expression. But he hugs me politely and grunts, “Welcome to the family,” without displaying any violent tendencies.
Sebastian’s wife Lucie stares at my ring intently. “Interesting. I love the pearl and the diamonds. These stones are each very unique.”
“They are?” I glance down. The pearl is obvious, but the diamonds look about the same.
“This one is slightly pink, although it’s difficult to tell. And this one in the center is clear. Excellent cut. Sebastian has some of the best designers.” Lucie sounds half proud and half jealous.
When she notices my curious scrutiny, she smiles. “I’m the CEO at Peery Diamonds, and Seb is the CEO at Sebastian Jewelry. Friendly rivals.”
“Were you always friendly?” I ask, slightly amused.
She laughs. “No. We had a rocky period, but we made it work. We’re good now.”
Emma comes over to chat with us, too. “I’m so happy for you both.” She smiles, her eyes warm. “The ceremony was unique, but so typically Huxley. I would’ve been disappointed if he’d done a traditional wedding because that’s just not him. I’m glad he found a woman who understands and accepts that side of him.”
“Thank you,” I say with an easy grin of my own. She has a way of putting people at ease and sliding in little compliments. “I’m so glad you came. Huxley told me you were one of the most amazing people he knows.”
“He did?” She laughs softly. “He’s always so kind.”
“Not kind. Honest,” he says.
Elizabeth hugs me, and her husband Dominic wishes us well. “I always knew you’d buck tradition, and I love it!” she says with a huge grin.
Joey appears and takes a selfie with me. “Amazing, right?” he says with a wistful sigh. “Just the way Ted walked you down like that. It’s a dream come true, Grace. A dream come true.”
Beside me, Huxley sighs.
“I’m sure,” I say, smiling a little at Joey’s absurdity. But he seems to mean well.
“Still got my number, right?” he asks.
I nod.
“Don’t lose it. Like I said, you need that if you want your dreams to come true. I’m the fairy godmother you didn’t know you had.”
Huxley tilts his head down to me. “Didn’t Griffin already come over to introduce himself? I wonder why he’s coming back?”
I turn to look, but don’t see Griffin in the crowd. When I turn back, Joey has vanished.
Huxley shrugs in response to my questioning look. “Maybe an upset stomach?”
Unfortunately, I can’t avoid my so-called family forever. If it had been left up to me, I would’ve made sure they never came anywhere near me or the wedding. But Madison said it’d look terrible if I didn’t have “family” attend the ceremony to wish me and Huxley well. And apparently Huxley signed off on the idea.
Still, it’s unfair that their presence makes me want to hide at my own wedding. The tight set of his jaw shows how displeased Nelson is. He would’ve preferred to marry Viv off, but he has to act like he’s fine with this turn of events. Andreas is watching, and he won’t forgive Nelson if he does anything that damages the alliance between the families.
Not only that, he doesn’t have the courage to approach me when Huxley’s around. He waits until Emma pulls my new husband aside for a moment. What a coward .
“Well, you’ve certainly outdone yourself, marrying into the Huxleys,” he says stiffly. Next to him, Karie chugs down a glass of champagne as though she’s washing away a bad taste in her mouth.
“Parasite, that’s what you are,” Viv says, finally having gotten over her crying fit. Her eyes are bloodshot.
“Scientists say that about fifty-five to sixty percent of a human body is made of water. You must be down to about forty percent by now,” I tell her.
She started sobbing the moment Huxley kissed me. After Ted called her “that crying bitch,” she wailed even louder until everyone moved to the reception.
“How about no more twenty-five thousand dollars for you, huh? You ingrate!” Viv spits.
My throat tightens, and I clench my hands, shaking with resentment and anger. It’s always about my mom’s bill. If that’s how she’s going to be, I can strike back too. After all, admitting to Harvard Law that I took her LSAT means they’ll be rescinding their offer.
Before I can issue my threat, Huxley’s arm wraps around me. “Like she needs money from you people. What’s the point of having a rich husband if she has to grovel for a measly twenty-five grand from a bunch of tight-fisted assholes?”
I pinch his arm surreptitiously, signaling him to stop talking. I already told him why I couldn’t accept his money.
But Huxley doesn’t take back his words.
Nelson and Karie pale. They don’t know that Huxley isn’t fond of me. As far as they’re concerned, not holding those bills over my head is going to free me from their control, and they can’t have that. What if I told everyone the kind of abuse I’ve suffered at their hands? What if I told people that Karie forced me to take the LSAT for Viv?
“There’s no reason to get vulgar over money ,” Nelson says, as though he couldn’t care less about the stuff. “We’ll continue to pay for her expenses, of course.”
“You will not. I provide for my wife.” Huxley’s voice is firm. It brooks no argument.
I can almost believe he means it, even though I know better. His father must’ve taught him acting.
“She’s our daughter!” Karie protests.
I snort softly. Their daughter? Since when? I was an embarrassment to Nelson, and an abomination to Karie. To Mick and Viv, just someone to abuse and take their anger out on. They treated their housekeepers with more decency.
Huxley scoffs openly. “Is she? Before she was Grace Lain, and now Mrs. Huxley Lasker. She was never a Webber. How’s your face feeling, by the way? I heard you had another unfortunate incident involving your car.”
Nelson shakes. He can’t believe Huxley won’t show him even a smidgeon of respect. I’m just stunned that Huxley has defended me. Again. Am I dealing with the nice Huxley today?
“Nobody’s allowed to insult my wife,” my new husband declares. “How you treat her is a reflection on me, so you will treat her with respect and dignity. Understood?”
If Huxley and I didn’t have an unpleasant history, I’d probably be overcome with joy. But I know too well how unpredictable his moods can be. It’d be foolish to assign too much significance to his behavior right now.
Time to set things straight so I don’t end up being at Huxley’s mercy over Mom’s bills… “Huxley, they’ve been paying all this time, so if they want to continue—”
Nelson and Karie nod eagerly, but Huxley’s cool voice cuts me off. “Don’t cover for them, sweetheart. They won’t be a part of your life in any way.”
“You have no right to separate a family,” Nelson says shakily.
“In case you missed it, I’m her family now. And I’ve set up a medical trust fund for my wife.”
I stare at Huxley. A trust fund? Since when did I get this fund from him? Didn’t he make me sign a prenup so I wouldn’t even have lunch money if I didn’t work?
He continues, enunciating clearly: “She doesn’t need you anymore.”
I reel at the abrupt announcement. I try to grasp what it means. Is Huxley promising to pay for my mom’s care until she opens her eyes? What about the rehab she’ll probably need once she wakes up? It feels both surreal and scary to imagine that I may never have to beg from Nelson and Karie again because control is shifting to my husband.
Viv glares at me, her eyes flashing with jealousy. She’s so simple and transparent. She’s thinking about all the shopping she could’ve done if she’d married Huxley and gotten a hold of a trust fund. Frustration brings a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.
I tug at Huxley’s hand.
He looks down at my smaller and slimmer fingers around his, his brow furrowed.
I lick my dry lips. “Can I talk to you for a second?”