Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (11 page)

BOOK: Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)
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“Yes!” I nearly squeaked in excitement.

They both laughed as I dropped my robe, and I watched as they carefully unzipped the back.

“That’s not what you’re wearing underneath, is it?” Grace asked, her head doing a double take as she caught sight of me standing in my simple white satin underwear and matching strapless bra.

“Um . . . yes. Why?” I asked, now feeling self-conscious.

My hands moved to cover my stomach, but she batted them away.

“Oh, stop. I’m just commenting on the fact that it’s a little . . . well, underwhelming.” She smiled.

“And virginal,” my mom added with a laugh.

I looked down at what I had on and frowned. “It’s white and satin,” I answered with a huff. “I got it at the bridal salon!”

“Oh, honey. I knew this would happen. Hold on,” Grace said, raising a single finger in the air, issuing a virtual pause on our conversation.

I gazed over at my mother who still held the dress, midway through unzipping it, and she just shrugged. Obviously, she wasn’t in on this little adventure. Comments were her only contribution.

I turned to see Grace shuffling through her enormous suitcase, hunched over with her butt raised high in the air, as she dangled on one heel, trying to somehow be ladylike in her emerald-green dress. The view was quite hilarious.

“Aha! Found it,” she announced, pulling out a pink bag and shoving it in my direction.

“Pink. Should have known.” I rolled my eyes.

“Just the bag.” She laughed.

I opened it and found a mass of tissue paper surrounding delicate white lacy lingerie. I pulled it out, feeling my cheeks redden instantly, and I held it up for closer observation. “Is this a—”

“Thong? Yes, hon.”

I was fairly sure my gulp was audible. My eyes widened as Grace’s laughter filled the room. I looked to my mother, who was joining in on the fun as well.

“I might just have a heart attack right here, new heart be damned,” I muttered.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s fine. Very tasteful.”

“Okay, but try not to look, Mom.”

Her face curled into a smirk as she made a valiant effort to contain the giggles. “Okay.”

I quickly changed, swapping my sensible satin boy shorts for the barely there lace thong Grace had bought me. When she had been with me a few weeks ago, I’d purchased a few things for the honeymoon but nothing too risqué and definitely nothing that went up my butt. Jude and I had been together for a while now, but I was still very much a newbie when it came to certain things—and apparently, dental-floss lingerie was something I could add to that list.

In addition to the new sexy panties, Grace had also purchased a new strapless bra for me.

I eyed it warily.

“It’s a push-up. Believe me, you’ll thank me later.”

“Will I still fit? I mean, I was fitted to my dress with this bra on,” I said, looking down at my regular non-push-up satin bra.

“Yes, the girls will fit, and they’ll look amazing.”

“The girls?” I asked, quickly turning to change.

“Yes, treat them with a little respect, Lailah. They’re the only two you get.”

I circled back around and watched her eyes bug as they zeroed in on my chest.

“Whoa. Tell Jude he can send my thank-you flowers anytime.”

I looked down and nearly gasped. “Are you sure this is decent? I mean, they’re nearly poking me in the eyes!”

The sound of my mother’s snickering filled the air.

“Oh, hush. They are not. You don’t have nearly enough down there to poke an eye out. Besides, by the time we get the dress on you, it will be just enough cleavage,” Grace commented.

“Just enough?”

“Yes. Church cleavage—not too much, not too little, just right.”

I rolled my eyes and maybe snorted just a bit. “Okay, Goldilocks.”

Moving across the room, careful to cover my backside around my mother, I stood in front of her as she held my dress and took a deep breath.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said.

Our eyes met as she lowered it. I took Grace’s hand, and with one foot after another, I slowly stepped into the dress and watched as they lifted it up around me. The bodice came around my waist as they worked to pull the zipper up.

“Perfect,” my mother said. “It fits like a glove.”

They smoothed out the layers and then brought the beaded belt to adorn my waist. With an expert hand, Grace tightly tied it right at the small of my back, and I turned to see myself for the first time.

“Don’t cry,” I chanted. “Don’t cry.”

The dress was exactly as I remembered but so much more. The sweetheart bodice fit snugly, accenting the small curve I’d gained since the surgery. It flared out at the waist, dozens of thin organza layers flowing elegantly to the floor.

“I look like a princess,” I said.

“No,” my mom replied. “You look like an angel.”

I saw her misty eyes in the mirror, and I had to look away to keep from sobbing.

“I think we have a few final touches before we go,” Grace said, her voice rough from obvious tears.

Her fingers touched my neck, and I felt the cool touch of metal wrap around my throat. The locket Jude had given me hung neatly on my chest, barely reaching the top of where my scar began. It was visible in this dress, and I’d considered wearing a gown where it would have been hidden, but I’d spent too much of my life hiding.

This was who I was—a survivor.

And today, I refused to hide.

My heart grew louder, beating a bit faster, as the limo pulled up to the curb of the beautiful Gothic church that stood proud and tall against the New York skyline.

As soon as I’d seen it, I’d known this was where Jude and I would be married. After a defeated day of looking at church after church, only to find nothing that had truly spoken to us, I’d almost given up on my dream of getting married in a historic church.

Jude’s parents had said their vows in the beautiful Trinity Church, and sure, I wouldn’t have minded that either. But that place was gigantic, and to keep Jude’s mother from going completely insane and inviting the entire Eastern seaboard, we had tried to stay clear of large venues.

Tired, achy, and sore from walking around half the city, we’d climbed into a taxi. As I’d slumped into the backseat, listening to Jude’s easy voice assuring me that everything would work out, I had looked up, and there it was. I’d immediately asked the cab driver to pull over. Grabbing Jude’s hand, like a crazy person, I’d dragged him out of the back of the car, and I’d run toward the entrance, not stopping until we’d reached the inside.

We’d put our deposit down that day.

In that moment, it had felt like today would never come.

And now, here I was, in my wedding gown, ready to meet my groom and pledge the rest of my life to him.

It seemed like fairy tales really did come true—even for the little girl who had grown up within the walls of a hospital and never expected anything truly special to ever happen there.

“Are you ready?” my mother asked, taking my hand in hers.

I squeezed it as our eyes met briefly before I looked up toward the top of the limestone steeple.

“Yes,” I croaked out, trying to stifle the tears threatening to break through.

The limo door slowly opened, and there was Marcus, standing proud and tall, waiting to help us into the church.

“There are my girls,” he said. “How about we get you inside?”

I nodded as he took my hand in his and carefully helped me out of the limo, mindful of all the layers of fabric around me. I stood outside, hardly noticing the freezing temperatures of the early evening setting in, and then I saw Marcus’s face.

Moisture rimmed his aged eyes.

“You . . . my God, Lailah. You’re stunning.”

I fell into his embrace, soaking up love and warmth from the only father I’d ever known. He’d been my doctor my entire life. He might be just a stepfather by society’s standards, but to me, he was so much more.

“Thank you,” I said, pulling back to look at him.

“For what?”

“Everything. There’s too many to list, Marcus. You’ve been there for me and Mom every step of the way, and I would have died in that hospital a long time ago if it wasn’t for you.”

He tried to protest, but I knew it was true. Every minute of every day, he’d fought for me.

“My mother might have chosen the wrong Hale brother that night, but she’s been choosing you ever since.”

He gave a wisp of a smile. “I know.” His eyes shifted beyond me to where my mother now stood, his eyes blazing as they found hers.

Her fingers curled around my bare shoulders. “We need to get you inside,” she said as her hands began running up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me. She might have relaxed in her ways, but her driving need to protect me still ran strong and true inside her.

I nodded. “Where is he?” I asked, turning to Marcus.

“In the back, far away from any windows. Don’t worry. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment either.”

A few horns honked as we made our way to the entrance, and I couldn’t help but turn and wave as people honked, rolled down their windows and yelled congratulations. Luckily, no one told me to turn and run or hollered that marriage sucked. That definitely would have put a damper on the celebrity moment I was having.

Marcus pulled open the heavy door to the church, and my mom helped me enter quickly. After we made sure all of my dress was safely inside, I gave the okay to close the door behind us. Grace had already arrived separately, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. I also believed she secretly wanted my mom and me to have a moment alone together. It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciated the gesture. It had been nice to spend the last couple of minutes with my mom while driving down the streets of New York. I didn’t know if I would get another chance to just be with her like this before Jude and I left for our honeymoon. I was guessing Grace had known that. She always seemed to know exactly what to do.

“Oh, Lailah, it’s beautiful,” my mother said, her voice full of awe.

I finished smoothing out my skirt and looked up to see that the church had completely been transformed. It was daytime when Jude and I had visited, and although it had been absolutely dreamy then, we had known we wanted an evening wedding. Having returned sometime later during an evening service had only given a glimpse of what it might look like since the bright lights above washed everything out.

Now, only the glow of what seemed like a million candles lit the room. It was romantic and everything I’d imagined it would be. The glow from the natural lighting flickered and danced against the stone walls and high Gothic cathedral ceilings.

“It’s perfect,” was all I could manage to say before I was whisked away to the bridal suite.

Guests were starting to arrive outside, which meant I would be walking down that candlelit aisle in less than an hour.

I TOOK A deep breath, touching the new cuff link on my sleeve, as Marcus stood next to me in front of the congregation. The small a cappella choir began, their angelic voices filling the church, from high above where they stood in the balcony.

Grace emerged first, carrying a small bouquet of red and white flowers against her green dress. She looked happy and elated as her head turned briefly to smile at Brian and Zander seated in the crowd. Brian held out their son’s tiny hand and waved at her as she walked by before taking her spot to the right of me, leaving a wide space where Lailah would be.

Lailah.

I turned just in time to see her and her mother round the corner. With one arm wrapped firmly around Molly, Lailah lifted her gaze as they both took their first steps down the aisle.

I lost the ability to breathe.

She was breathtaking, exquisite.

Dear Lord, she was mine.

Loose curls fell around her shoulders surrounding her like a halo, her floor length veil trailed behind her like a thin train. Her dress was winter white and fit her personality and body beautifully.

My fingers itched to touch her, to roam over every inch of that silky skin.

It had felt like an eternity since I saw her last, yet it had been less than twenty-four hours. I knew now more than ever—as she walked toward me, escorted down the aisle by her mother—that Lailah was the one I was always meant to be with.

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