48. Delilah
DELILAH
I stand outside the prison gates in my wedding dress, the July sun beating on my back, trying to convince myself this is real.
That today, I finally leave with Kane beside me.
We've planned everything during visits and phone calls. The guest list. The vows. The reception at the bakery.
But I kept the dress a surprise.
White lace over silk, fitted through the bodice, simple but elegant. Priya helped me choose it three weeks ago.
And I've been terrified ever since that I'd never get to wear it.
I check my phone for the third time in five minutes.
No messages.
The gates remain closed.
I've done this so many times. Driven here on visiting days. Waited in the parking lot. Gone through security. Sat across from Kane in a cold room with a dozen other inmates and their families.
Every time, I left alone.
And every time, I told myself the next visit would be easier.
It never was.
I smooth my skirt with shaking hands.
What if something went wrong? What if there's a delay? What if they need him for one more interview, one more hearing, one more—
The gates open.
Kane walks through.
He's wearing the dark suit I brought him last week. His hair is shorter than I remember. His face is thinner.
But his eyes are the same.
He stops when he sees the dress.
"Lilah." His throat bobs. "You look—god."
I go to him before I can start crying.
He catches me against his chest and kisses me hard.
His hands come up to frame my face, and I taste salt on his lips—mine or his, I don't know.
When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine.
"Hi," I whisper.
"Hi."
I press my face into his shoulder. "I was afraid they wouldn't let you go."
"You were?"
I nod. "I kept thinking someone would come out and tell me we needed more time."
His arms tighten around me. "I'm here."
"I know. But I didn't believe it until right now."
He pulls back just enough to look at me. "I thought about seeing you here every morning since we chose the date."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." His thumb brushes my cheek. "I pictured you waiting. Imagined what you'd wear. Told myself that if I could just get through the days, I'd finally get to take you home."
My vision blurs. "Are you ready to marry me?"
His mouth quirks. "You're asking me that now?"
"Yes."
"How about this." He leans into me, voice lower, darker. "You'd better get me to the wedding before I discover how badly I want to take you straight to bed."
I laugh despite the tears. "Deal."
Stepan is waiting at the curb with Kane's car.
He opens the door and nods at me. "Ms. Dorsey."
"Hi, Stepan."
Kane helps me into the back seat, careful with my skirt, then gets in beside me.
The door closes, and suddenly we're alone.
Well, not alone—Stepan is literally right there—but alone enough.
Kane takes my hand.
I lace our fingers together and hold on.
"How was this morning?" I ask.
"Long."
"Did they give you trouble?"
"No more than usual."
I study his face. He looks tired. Worn down in a way that has nothing to do with sleep.
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"I will be."
"Kane—"
"I'm okay, Lilah. I promise."
I want to push. To make him tell me everything.
But today isn't the day for that.
Today, we get married.
Everything else can wait.
Stepan pulls away from the curb, and I watch the prison disappear through the rear window.
Kane squeezes my hand. "Stop looking back."
"I can't help it."
"Yes, you can."
I turn to face him. "What if they realize they made a mistake?"
"They didn't."
"But what if—"
"Lilah." He pulls me closer. "I'm not going back. We're getting married. And then I'm taking you upstairs and keeping you in bed for at least three days."
Heat spreads across my face. "Three days?"
"Minimum."
"What about the bakery?"
"Closed for the week. Priya already handled it."
"She didn't tell me that."
"Because I asked her not to."
I stare at him. "You planned this?"
"I planned a honeymoon. Is that a crime?"
"No, but—"
"Then stop arguing and let me take care of you for once."
I open my mouth. Close it.
Because he's right.
I've been taking care of everything for months. Managing the bakery. Visiting Kane. Coordinating with Skye and Gershon about Kane's case, just when we'd wrapped up Vetrov's.
And I'm exhausted.
"Okay," I say.
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Three days. In bed. With you."
He smiles, and it's the first real smile I've seen from him in months.
We arrive at the bakery just after noon.
Priya is waiting outside with Zara, both of them dressed in matching lavender.
Zara squeals when she sees me. "Miss Delilah! You look like a princess!"
I crouch down carefully, mindful of my skirt. "Thank you, sweetheart."
"Is Mr. Kane your prince now?"
"Something like that."
Kane offers me his hand and helps me up.
Priya hugs me quickly. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you. Is everything ready?"
"Yes. Now go get married."
"But—"
"Nope. No buts. You trusted me with this. So trust me."
I exhale. "Fine."
"Good. Now get inside before you melt."
Kane keeps hold of my hand as we enter the bakery.
The space is transformed.
White lights are strung across the ceiling. Flowers—simple white roses and greenery—are arranged on every table.
And the teaching kitchen in the back has been set up for the ceremony, with chairs arranged in neat rows facing a simple arch.
Niko approaches, dressed in a sharp suit. "Congratulations."
Kane pulls him into a brief hug. "Thank you."
"You clean up well," Niko tells him. "For an ex-con."
"Don't get used to it."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Anton appears next, offering a gruff nod. "Good to see you, boss."
"Good to be seen."
Angelica, Cameron, and Jolene are here too, along with Stepan, Yuri, and a handful of others from Kane's organization.
Skye arrives with Gershon, both of them grinning.
"You two look disgustingly happy," Skye says.
"We are," I tell her.
"That's good to hear. Are you ready?"
I look back to Kane. The man I've been waiting for. The man I am never getting separated from again. "Yes."
Skye smiles. "Then let's get you married."
We gather in the teaching kitchen.
Priya arranges my train while Zara hands me a small bouquet of white roses.
Kane stands at the front with Niko beside him.
He's watching me. Not the flowers or the decorations or the guests. Just me.
And I realize I've been waiting my whole life for someone to look at me like that.
Like I'm the only person in the room who matters.
The music starts. The first notes of Silent Night ring out in the air, a gentle, instrumental version. Comically unseasonable and yet so appropriate. A taste of the Christmas we didn't get to spend together.
I walk toward Kane.
No one gives me away. Because I'm not property to be transferred.
I'm choosing this. Choosing him.
And when I reach Kane, he takes my hands in his with no one's permission but mine.
Skye stands before us with a printed script. "We're gathered here today to witness the marriage of Delilah Aileen Dorsey and Kane Makov."
Someone in the back—probably Niko—whistles.
Skye glares at him, then continues. "Delilah and Kane have written their own vows. Kane, you're first."
Kane clears his throat. His voice is rougher than I've ever heard it, almost raw. "I promise to tell you the truth. Even when I'm afraid of your answer. Even when it's the hardest thing I've ever had to say."
He pauses, and I can see the struggle in him, the way vulnerability costs him something real.
"I won't close myself off when things get difficult," he continues, his green eyes locked on mine. "I won't make decisions for you in secret, no matter how much I think I'm protecting you. I won't assume I know better."
My throat tightens.
"I promise to trust you to make your own decisions. To ask instead of assuming. To respect your choices even when I don't agree with them."
He squeezes my hands.
"And I promise to love you. Every day. For the rest of my life."
I blink back tears.
Skye looks at me. "Your turn."
I take a breath. "I promise to always tell you what I want. To never make you guess. And to never make myself small to avoid being a burden."
Kane's eyes soften.
"I promise to trust you. To believe you when you say you're here to stay. To stop bracing for you to leave."
My voice cracks.
"And I promise to love you. Even when it's scary. Even when I don't know what happens next. I choose you, Kane. I choose us."
He's smiling now, and it's almost enough to undo me completely.
Skye produces two rings. "These were provided by the groom."
I glance at Kane. "When did you—"
"Niko picked them up last week."
Of course he did.
Skye hands me Kane's ring first.
I slide it onto his finger, my hands shaking.
Then Kane takes mine and does the same.
The metal is warm, solid. Perfect.
"By the power vested in me by the State of New York," Skye says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. Kane, you may kiss your bride."
Kane cups my face and kisses me.
It's soft and slow and achingly sweet—everything I've been dreaming about during all those lonely nights at the bakery, all those hours spent staring at our photo album on my phone, wondering if I'd ever get this moment with him again.
It's everything.
It's us.
When we finally pull apart, the room erupts in applause.
Niko claps Kane on the shoulder. Priya hugs me so hard I can barely breathe.
We're married.
Kane is here to stay.
For the first time in months, I let myself believe.
We eat and drink and laugh.
Priya has prepared an absurd amount of food—charcuterie, sliders, mac and cheese bites, little tartlets—and Kane makes sure I actually sit and enjoy it instead of serving everyone else.
When I start to get up to refill someone's drink, he pulls me back into my chair.
"Let them get their own drinks," he says.
"But—"
"No. You're the bride. Brides are legally not allowed to work on their wedding day."
Priya appears with two glasses of champagne. "He's right. Sit."
"You're all ganging up on me."
"Yes," Kane says. "We are."
I take the champagne and stay seated.
Niko toasts us. "To Delilah and Kane. May your marriage be long, happy, and significantly less dramatic than your courtship."
Everyone laughs.
"Cheers to that," I mutter.