24. Cassie
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Cassie
The wedding is small and intimate, exactly what we wanted.
Just close friends and family gathered in the garden of our house on a perfect spring afternoon. White chairs arranged in neat rows on the lawn. An arch of flowers at the end of the aisle. The scent of roses and jasmine heavy in the warm air.
Jinny is my maid of honor, of course. She cried when I asked her, then spent the next three months alternating between complaining about the dress I chose and throwing herself into the planning process with terrifying enthusiasm.
Right now she’s standing beside me at the altar, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and pretending she has allergies.
“I’m not crying,” she hisses when I catch her eye. “It’s pollen.”
“There’s no pollen. It’s been a dry spring.”
“Shut up and get married already.”
I turn back to face Elliot, who’s watching me with an expression that makes my heart swell. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits him perfectly, but what I notice most is his smile. Open. Unguarded. Happy in a way I’ve never seen from him before.
The officiant asks if we’re ready, and we both nod.
The vows are traditional, because sometimes tradition is exactly what you need.
We exchange rings: his a simple platinum band, mine the engagement ring paired with a diamond-studded wedding band that matches perfectly.
When Elliot slides the ring onto my finger, I feel something settle into place inside me.
This is right. This is where I’m supposed to be.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant says. “You may kiss the bride.”
Elliot pulls me close and kisses me thoroughly, to cheers and applause from our gathered guests. When we break apart, both of us are grinning like fools.
“Mrs. Beaumont,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I murmur back.
The reception is held in the garden, fairy lights strung through the trees, a small band playing music that makes people want to dance.
I watch Elliot charm my mother, watch Jinny flirt outrageously with one of his college friends, watch our two worlds blend together into something new and beautiful.
This is my life now. Not Charles’s wife. Not Elliot’s girlfriend. Cassie Beaumont, standing in the garden of her home, surrounded by people who love her.
At some point, I slip away from the crowd and find a quiet spot by the fence overlooking the city. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink, and I take a moment to just breathe. To appreciate how far I’ve come.
A year ago, I was invisible. A year ago, I was Charles Wallace’s forgotten wife, fading into the background of my own life. I thought my marriage was fine. I thought I was happy enough. I didn’t realize how small I’d made myself until I had to rebuild from scratch.
Now look at me.
Married to a man who loves me fiercely. Running my own division of a successful company, a team I built from the ground up with my own vision and my own strategies. Surrounded by friends who stood by me through the worst of it.
My own woman. My own boss. My own life.
“There you are.”
I turn to find Elliot approaching, two glasses of champagne in hand. He offers me one, then stands beside me, looking out at the same view.
“Having second thoughts?” he asks lightly.
“Never.” I lean into his side. “Just appreciating.”
“Appreciating what?”
“Everything. The journey. The destination.” I look up at him. “You.”
“I’m very appreciable.”
“That’s still not a word.”
“It is now. I’m a married man. I can make up whatever words I want.”
I laugh, and he laughs too, and in that moment I feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too.” He pulls me close. “Ready to go back to the party?”
“In a minute.” I rest my head against his shoulder. “I just want to stay here a little longer. Just the two of us.”
“Whatever you want, Mrs. Beaumont. For the rest of our lives, whatever you want.”
We stand there as the stars come out, holding each other, not needing to say anything else. The past is behind us. The future is bright. And the present, this perfect moment, is everything I never knew I was looking for.
A year ago, I walked in on my husband with another woman and thought my life was over.
I was wrong. That moment wasn’t an ending. It was a beginning.
The beginning of my revenge. The beginning of my healing. The beginning of a love story I never expected to find.
And now, standing in the garden of my home with my husband’s arms around me and the whole world spread out before us, I know the truth.
The best stories aren’t the ones that go according to plan. They’re the ones that fall apart completely and get rebuilt into something better.
This is my better story. And it’s only just beginning.