Choosing you
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
LINNEA
This is the first wedding I’ve helped with since Jamie and Sophie got married. But it’s the first I’ve done without supporting staff. I’m pleased with the results. And Venetia’s niece was an absolute delight to work with as a floral decorator.
Amara’s Art Nouveau garden wedding dream has come true.
Five tall wrought-iron arches run the length of the lawn, from the foot of the dining room stairs to the end where the folly is. We’ve draped them with flowers, trailing greens, and crackled glass lanterns at different heights, so the whole aisle glitters from every angle.
Lining the inside of the arches are the chairs, all draped in green and pink floral chair covers that melt into the garden perfectly, and every seat faces the garden folly. We’ve wound a climbing wisteria across it. A fake one, but it’s gorgeous.
It’s nothing short of magical out here.
When I turn, I take in the dining area. The doors have been opened and pulled back leaving the exit to the garden wide and allowing the bright August sun to fill the room.
We’ve taken the garden inside—floral decorations adorn the sides of the room and every table, a mix of fresh and fake.
It’s completely over the top and completely marvellous.
Amara told me how much she adored Millefleuré, and she dreamed of a wedding that felt like that, and I’m confident this lives up to her vision.
It’s nearly time for the guests to gather. I’ve been ready for twenty minutes, walking around, pretending that I’m checking the decor, but I’m really waiting for Aiden to arrive. Hoping that I can see him before we have an audience.
There’s a sound behind me and I turn.
And there he is.
“Hi.” He stops, taking me in. The look in his eye is like that in Florence. As if he can’t entirely believe what’s in front of him, but he appreciates what he sees. It takes some of the nerves away, bringing a smile to my face instead.
If I thought seeing Aiden in his casual wear yesterday was hard, watching him stand there in a full, black three-piece suit without being able to touch him is torture.
From the way it hugs his broad shoulders I’d bet it’s tailored just for him.
His waistcoat is as if sculpted onto him.
The pure white shirt is gorgeous against his tan skin, and his silver-blue tie perfectly matches his eyes.
“We’re matching,” I say, gesturing to my royal blue dress. It’s not the same hue, but they complement each other, although I just notice his pocket square is exactly the same blue.
“I was hoping you’d wear that.” His eyes roam over me.
“Of course. It’s perfection.”
“On you, yes.”
I press my lips together, not daring to smile fully at him.
I didn’t tell him everything last night, it was too much to go through all of it in one evening.
But it doesn’t change how I feel about what he told me.
I didn’t sleep much last night, going over it all again and again.
His eyes, in particular. The ache in them.
“This is stupendous, Linnea. Thank you for doing this for Mum.”
He steps closer while scanning the room.
“It’s my pleasure. This house is already marvellous, I just added thousands of flowers.”
“You are really something,” he says, and all I want to do is fling myself into his arms and stay there forever. I hope we can talk more. How do we get past this awkwardness?
Actually…
“Can I show you the garden?” I ask angling myself towards the exit. “And I wanted to tell you something I didn’t yesterday.”
“Of course,” he answers, and we stroll next to each other down the steps, through the floral arrangements.
“Umm…” I start, glancing up at the arches and how the sun coming up over the hedge shines through the leaves. “Henry came to my house the other day.”
Aiden stops. “What? Are you okay?”
I stop him asking more with a twitch of my hand.
“He was asking for help, but of course I turned him down. You may have seen the blog, apparently he’d asked Mr Sinclair for help and it blew up in his face. Anyway, he got angry and left me with a comment that’s been festering in me.”
I pinch my eyes shut, hoping I won’t cry while I tell him this. Despite my mascara being waterproof, I don’t want to test it before the inevitable wedding-speech-induced tears later tonight.
“You’ve noticed I’m not happy talking about my parents—I know you have, because you moved the conversation over to my grandfather at the brunch.”
“Yes.”
Opening my eyes, again, I look straight at Aiden.
“My mum never wanted to be a mother, and she’s not engaged or interested in my life.
Never was. Dad isn’t as distant, but he always chose his career first. Ever since I was little, I was convinced I had to work hard to deserve their love because I’d inflicted myself upon them.
” I shake my head when Aiden opens his mouth to protest. “I know, it’s not a child’s fault.
But it’s hard to shake something so ingrained in you. ”
“At the start of our relationship, Henry made me feel like I was the only person in any room. He was this older, handsome gentleman, and he chose me. But when it got harder, when it required work, as relationships often do, instead of standing up for myself and what I deserve, I fell back into that old pattern of doing whatever I could for him to love me. I kept grating away at myself and he kept taking. When he came to my house this week, he said it again. That it was so hard to love me, and that even my parents couldn’t be bothered to try. ”
“Jesus Christ,” Aiden breathes.
“It is what it is, but I just wanted to share that with you because it’s so important for me to not do that again.”
He nods, eyes locked on mine, his jaw flexing. “Henry is done.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about Henry, Aiden. Seriously. He’s a sad bully.”
“You’re a bigger person than me.”
“It’s not about him. But you need to appreciate that I expect more from you. I want you to expect more from me. Like you did in the park when you asked why I relent in a discussion.”
“Thank you for sharing about your parents,” he says, eyes still focused on mine. “I’m sorry they made you feel like that.”
“Yeah. At least I had my grandfather, so I didn’t turn into a complete psychopath.”
He laughs, his beautiful face breaking into that wide, uncontainable smile.
“I wish I’d met him,” Aiden says. “What was his name?”
“Erik.”
Aiden nods, and as other guests start trickling into the room on top of the stairs, we leave it there for now.
The day has gone fast. The ceremony was gorgeous, but the most beautiful sight of the day is Amara in her cream lace wedding dress. Will cried so hard when she appeared at the top of the stairs, and he could hardly get his vows out. But we got there in the end.
Amara’s brought her sunshine all day. I don’t think her smile dropped for a second since she walked through those garden doors, and we’ve all been smiling with her.
Will and Amara are seated at a long table at the top of the room.
Will’s brother and his wife are on Will’s side, and Aunt Giulia and Aiden on Amara’s side.
I was originally seated next to Aiden but I ‘accidentally’ decorated the bride and groom’s chair with so many flowers they couldn’t fit that extra guest chair in anymore, so I had the wedding planner squeeze me in on the round table in front.
This way, I can glance at Aiden any time without the proximity, without worrying about his knee touching mine, or having to make unnatural small talk when he should be focusing on celebrating his mother and Will.
Aiden clinks his glass with a spoon and stands up. The wedding coordinator rushes over to him with a microphone.
“Hi everyone, I’m Aiden. Amara’s son, for those who don’t know me. Uh, normally, talking in front of a crowd is not something that gives me pause, but I’m nervous today—you’ll see why—so please bear with me.”
There’s a smattering of ‘you can do it’ and a wolf whistle that makes everyone laugh. Aiden turns to Amara.
“Mum, you are the most remarkable mother a person could have. I would be a complete mess if you weren’t so strong, so caring, and so generous with your love.
” He clears his throat and glances out at the tables full of people, his gaze lingering on Aunt Giulia next to him, before he looks back out at no one in particular.
“I want to share something, so you can understand how big today is for my mum. And me.” He breathes in and exhales again, puffing out his cheeks.
“When I was little, my dad died abruptly of cancer, and we were left with nothing but each other. Mum raised me on her own with no means because my dad, as good a father as he was, and despite loving my mother, made some mistakes I’m sure he’d regret if he’d known how hard it was for her when he was gone.
He… Uh…” Aiden stops and takes a sip of water.
“And we’ll never fully understand why… Anyway.
” He clears his throat, clearly struggling, and I want to hold his hand.
“The silver lining of our hardship is that Mum taught me gratitude for what we got to have with Dad, what Mum and I had together as I was growing up, and the relationship we share now.” He turns back to Amara.
Her eyes are watering, but her smile hasn’t faltered.
“Mum, you’ve been my rock my entire life.
So last year when you met Will, and I saw this glow return to you fully, I was so relieved.
Finally, someone who would make you the star of their life.
Of your life. You’re the main character, Mum, and when I saw Will spark your brightest flames again, I fell for him too. ”
We all laugh, and Will’s eyes shine, blinking up at Aiden.
“Will, you chose my mum, and she chose you. You give her room. You don’t just let her be herself, you encourage it. You bring out even more of her, although I’m not sure her sister Giulia agrees that’s a good thing.”
More laughter, although I feel his nerves on his behalf. I’ve never seen him so flustered.