Chapter 27 No Place Like （Margot） #2
“Wouldn’t lose them for the world! They’re in my pocket,” she says proudly.
“Then let’s go have a wedding.”
Hattie takes my arm, and Mom takes the other as my breath stalls.
This is it.
The end and the beginning.
As Sophie leads the way, we head to the back door, where a red carpet sprawls down the steps, flowing all the way to the cute altar by the lake.
Outside, it’s heavenly.
The sun shines like liquid gold.
The birds chirp merrily in the trees, the lake gleams like emerald, and all the people I love have assembled to watch me marry the man I love the most of all.
“Oh, no, are you going to cry?” Hattie whispers. “Because if you cry, I’m cooked. I’ll cry ten times more.”
Actually, there’s a real chance I will burst into hilariously messy tears, but I just squeeze her arm.
Mom leans in to kiss my cheek.
“Hang on. I’ll check in with the music,” she whispers and hurries along the carpet.
The huge, winding red carpet was Dan’s idea, and it felt like a little much in the planning stage.
Now that it’s forging the perfect path, it’s everything.
I start down it slowly, the priest having caught Kane’s attention so he’s facing away from me.
Good. I want to see the wildfire in his eyes when he notices me walking down the aisle toward him, counting down the seconds.
One.
We step through a wooden arch threaded with white roses. There’s a low hum through the crowd as they realize I’ve arrived.
Two.
Kane turns, and the band starts up.
And there, right in the middle, I see Dan with his drums and the most serious look on his face.
He barely stops to grin up at me as he does a little solo, the rest of the band backing off to give him space.
Three.
Holy potato, here come the tears.
“Good luck—you’ll kill it!” Hattie whispers, and she pulls Sophie back gently so I can walk in front of them.
Four.
It’s a shorter aisle, which means I’m already close enough to Kane to notice the slack-jawed wonder on his face, the lopsided smile he holds in, and when I take another two steps, the sheen in his eyes.
I stop counting because it doesn’t matter anymore.
I’m not freaked out by all the eyes on me.
I’m not second-guessing.
I’m not afraid.
How could I ever be anything else than ready to jump into tomorrow with his man?
“I love a man who cries at weddings,” I whisper playfully as soon as I’m close enough.
Ethan snickers loudly in the front row. Hattie slaps him.
“I don’t cry at weddings, woman,” Kane murmurs. “Just mine. I thought you were beautiful before, but now…”
He doesn’t finish.
He doesn’t need to.
The awe etched on his face leaves me in shambles.
“Y-you don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Saint.” I force down the boulder in my throat.
But I do mean it.
There he is, decked out in this magnificent deep-teal suit with a yellow rose pinned on, so vivid it glows—presumably courtesy of my mother.
When he made his color choice, at first I wasn’t sure.
But he’s handsome and suave and he’d look good in anything.
If he was standing here in worn sweatpants and a jersey, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I’d take the hand he offers, just like I do now, locking his fingers around mine until it hurts.
Together, we face the altar, waiting for destiny.
It’s crazy how fast the biggest day of your life vanishes before you can blink.
After the reception, the band—minus Dan—takes over while the guests split up and file in for dinner.
We pose for photos.
Ethan razzes me and Dad tells me how proud he is of his baby girl.
Kane’s mother pinches her son’s cheek until I think she’ll leave a bruise.
Everything goes better than I imagined.
The only missing piece is Gramps, but not really.
There’s an empty seat at one table and a lit candle next to his portrait.
I can almost feel his hawkish eyes following us the whole time, finally at peace.
The same look he’d give me after those extravagant scavenger hunts as kids when I’d come in, show off his gifts, and he’d hold me up in his arms, always whispering, “That’ll do, darling May. That’ll do.”
This was his home once, half a decade ago.
Now, we went and made it ours, and even if he’s not here in person, even if he’s somewhere in the afterlife, his spirit lingers.
He’ll always be as real as the air we breathe.
And I think he’s lighter now, no longer this heavy, sad presence, just waiting for me to stumble over his secrets.
He’s just another soul who’s glad to have his beloved family back in one piece.
“Look.” Kane takes my hand just as I’m about to get out of my own head and thank a few more guests for coming.
He nods.
There, by the shore, beside an old log, I see Mom. She’s just a silhouette in the sunset, but there’s no mistaking the small bouquet of flowers clutched in her hands—or the meaning.
Roses for Gramps.
Her way of saying ‘apology accepted,’ and maybe goodbye.
For a second, I break, shoving my face into Kane’s chest to muffle my sobs.
“You’re okay, wife. We’re all okay now.”
“That’s… that was always his favorite spot,” I strangle out, nodding at the log. “I think maybe he used to sit there a lot with my grandma, too. I’ve seen a couple old photos where they’re there, their backs turned, just admiring the water.”
We watch Mom for a few more seconds, but it’s her moment.
I turn back to the reception area. Two huge gazebos and enormous tables of food. Dan keeps gorging himself on sweets long after dinner, and little Sophie tears up the dance floor, blissfully oblivious to her shuffling steps, all thanks to her beautiful shoes.
“Guess we did all right, huh?” I rest my head on Kane’s shoulder.
“We fucking scored. Best wedding I’ve ever been to.”
“Hey.”
“I never said I was the groom at.” He laughs and bends to kiss me. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“You always do. But maybe one more time?”
He snorts. “So beautiful I know I’m the luckiest idiot in the universe.”
“You’d better.” I laugh and drag him to where Hattie’s waving us over. “Come on, our people await.”
“No rest for the wicked,” he mutters, but he’s grinning.
“Exhausted yet?” Hattie asks. “I remember when we got married, there were so many people to talk to and so much to do and so much to eat! I looked up and it was almost midnight.”
“It’s going by too fast, but I’m having the best time. The weather and this.” I wave my hand around at the crowd that turned out to celebrate us. “What could be better?”
“I saw your latest article,” Ethan tells Kane. “Left me with a lot to chew on. I have firms beating down our door all the time with some revolutionary AI algorithms for real estate.”
Hattie nudges him. “Seriously? Today of all days you guys have to talk about work?”
But Kane nods, and I roll my eyes at Hattie.
Men, I mouth.
She shrugs, but secretly I think she’s as delighted as I am that Kane and Ethan are getting along.
“There’s no undoing the tech. We just need to slow down and think before going full steam ahead,” Kane says. “People should know the risks and the ways it can screw up the human equation. The more support I can drum up for that, the better.”
“I shared it. Not that you needed the help when it went viral.” Ethan folds his arms.
“Thanks, man.” Kane nods. “It starts with awareness, hands down. This shit should be treated like splitting the atom. If we use it to power cities instead of wiping them off the map, everybody wins.”
Despite the heavy subject at our wedding, I smile.
Kane finally decided what he wants to do in the near-term besides investing, and he’s charged into it.
His new AI action group leverages his name in sports and his family’s old political connections to try to broaden the discussion around artificial intelligence.
Especially the threat to stifling human creativity.
There’s a lot I agree with and a lot more that’s over my head, but so what?
His heart’s in the right place, worthy of the hero he’ll always be.
And I’m so proud of him for fighting back and trying to do some good in an upside-down world.
Ethan and Kane talk on about their business endeavors and prospects, while Hattie and I grab more cake and giggle over our party favors.
“Mind if I cut in?”
Kane finds me, scoops me into his arms, and carries me up the red carpet to the lake house, leaving the final few people still in attendance to clean up after us.
“Hey!” I smack his shoulder, laughing, throwing my head back as he strides up to the house. “Did you miss the part where we’re leaving our wedding behind?”
“Nope.” He doesn’t glance behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He pauses on the threshold. “I’m bringing my wife home. Then she’s heading upstairs to consummate this marriage until she passes out at dawn.”
“Wow. Big words. You really think you can handle Mrs. Saint?” I try and fail to test my new name without shuddering. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“I think I’m goddamned explosive.”
I reach up and brush a lock of dark hair from his face. He’s almost painfully lovely in the light.
“Go on, then,” I say. “Carry me over the threshold, hubby.”
“This is the part that makes the marriage valid,” he says, taking a giant step over the threshold into our lovely, renovated home.
While we’ve been busy drinking champagne and living it up, someone came back and weaved white flowers around the banister Kane repaired during our first week together.
Candles burn on both sides of the steps, flanking a smattering of rose petals.
“Can’t believe I let you talk me into real candles. That’s a fire risk,” Kane says, but they’ve only just been lit.
“You hush. It’s beautiful and Hattie will sneak in later to put them out before she leaves.” I reach up and take his chin in my hands, turning his face to me so I can kiss him. “So,” I tease. “Aren’t you going to carry me up the stairs?”
He does it so easily, not even pausing for breath halfway up.
And this human whirlwind doesn’t stop there, carrying me to the bedroom, which has transformed into a bridal boutique.
It’s ridiculously pretty and over-the-top, which makes me think my mom had to be involved. It also makes my eyes sting.
This is my husband.
My new life.
The right wrong promise.
The forever I didn’t think I was ever promised.
Tomorrow, we’re grabbing the kids from a sleepover with their grandma and heading to the airport.
We’ll be in Costa Rica for the next two weeks, celebrating our first family vacation, but tonight it’s just us.
“I’ve said this before, but I am lucky,” he growls, plopping me down on the bed. “You make me blessed.”
“Kane…” I hold out my arms so he can get one last look at me before he takes this thing off.
“You heard me. Blessed.” He’s already looking me up and down with a razor-sharp hunger that tells me he loves what he sees. “And have I ever told you how fuck-hot you look in that dress?”
I gasp a little.
“Yes, actually. But you know I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“You’re too fuckable for life, Margot Saint.” He leans forward so his weight braces on the bed and he sucks my neck.
His teeth scrape my collarbone until I shiver, already reduced to a moaning mess.
“I’m blessed too. Because romance isn’t dead.” I twist underneath him, digging my nails into his chest playfully. “Want to know something even better?”
“What?”
“All you have to do to get me out of this dress is a simple zip.”
“Damn. I thought I’d die from blue balls working at the buttons.”
“They’re fake.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” He kisses me, his mouth hot and eager, his tongue delving deeper until there’s zero doubt he intends to show me.
I go down laughing, long and hard, this happy high that radiates from head to toe.
The kind of deep, lasting joy that blooms from the inside out.
I think I’m at capacity.
Thank you, Gramps.
All because I came to this beat-up lake house with no clue it would end in the man who’s made for me ripping off my wedding dress.
For a second, I send up one more thankful prayer.
Then Kane kisses me again, growls into my mouth, and I stop thinking of anything else at all.
Thanks for reading The Right Wrong Promise!