Authors: H. M. Ward
Broken Promises (29 page)
“I thought... They said...” Katie sputters and slaps him in the chest. “They said you were dead! I went to your funeral!”
Seth laughs and pulls his cap off, revealing a shaved head. “Yeah, they didn’t find my remains because I wasn’t dead. My convoy was blown to bits, but a buddy of mine and I didn't die. I’m here, babe. I told you I’d come back for you. Nothing could keep me away.” He smiles reassuringly at her.
Katie breaks down into tears and slams her fists into his chest. “I thought you were gone! I thought you were dead! I bought a puppy, and he ate the apartment last night. Gilbert is a bad dog! Oh, my God!” She pulls back laughing with tears on her cheeks. “You’re alive. Thank God.” She presses her lips together and looks at him.
Seth pulls her close to his chest again, glances over her shoulder at me, still smiling, and mouths, “Who the hell is Gilbert?”
EPILOGUE
K
atie snaps a picture. “You look like butterflies are going to shoot from your nose.” She looks at the back of the camera and makes a face. “I thought brides were supposed to be all calm and lovely on their wedding day.”
I laugh at that. “Where did you hear that? I’m sure it’s not from your day as Bridezilla.”
She turns her head to the side and sits down, folding her hands and placing them neatly on her lap. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
We both laugh. Katie was a terror on her wedding day. Me, I’m more trying not to cry. Mom’s not here. No matter what I do, it’s painfully obvious she’s gone. Instead of talking with her right now, I’m with Katie—who I love—but it’s not the same.
There’s a knock at the door. Katie rushes over in her ice-blue dress. The hem billows around her knees as she hurries, emphasizing her bulging baby belly perfectly. It would be a pretty picture. “No guys allowed!” she barks and then laughs silently and points at the door like we are in junior high.
“It’s Dr. Jennings.” Dad’s voice comes through the door. “I’d like to see my daughter before the ceremony.”
“Let him in, please.” I have the jitters, and everything seems surreal. I’m not nauseous like I was during my engagement to Derrick—I’m excited. I want to run down the aisle, say I do, and get a move on starting our life together.
“Fine,” Katie whines, pulling the door open. After Dad passes her, Katie rests her hand on her belly and takes a seat in the corner of the room.
Dad glances at her. “Uh, if you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone with my daughter.”
Katie is nearly ready to pop and overwrought by expectant mommy hormones. She looks like she’s going to cry, so I pull Dad by the wrist into the adjoining room and close the doors.
He clears his throat and looks at me appraisingly. “Your mother’s dress turned out well.”
Dad gave it to me when Trystan and I got engaged. He gave permission to alter it however I wanted, so I had a costume designer Trystan knows merge the wedding dress I loved with my mothers. Now it’s uniquely mine. “It makes me feel like she’s here with me. Thank you for giving it to me.”
He nods, seeming nervous. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck, tips his head to the side, and reaches into his pocket. “These were your mothers, also. She wore them on our wedding day, and I know she would have given them to you today.”
He places a necklace and matching earrings in my hand and closes my fingers over them, before leaning in to kiss my forehead. “I love you, Mari. I’m proud of you, of the woman you’ve become. I like Trystan, he’s turned into a good man—but if the day comes that he hurts you, I will put my foot up his ass.”
I hear Katie snort from the next room.
I lean in, put my arms around Dad’s neck and kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Daddy.”
He nods awkwardly and turns on his heel, vanishing without another word.
The wedding is beautiful. Trystan let me do whatever I wanted, but he insisted on choosing the wedding march. When the doors part, I have no idea what music is going to play, so when I see him sitting on a stool at the end of the aisle with a guitar on his lap, I can’t help but smile.
He speaks into the microphone before him. “There’s a song I wrote a long time ago and swore I’d only sing it at this moment, for my beloved Mari. So many things were against us, and I lost her once. I never thought I’d get to sing this song, so I had the lyrics tattooed on my side to remind me that love is what you make of it.” He smiles softly, adding, “Please rise for the wedding march and forgive me if it’s a little too slow.”
Trystan’s acoustic guitar fills the church as the people stand. Friends and family don’t know if they should watch him or me. Their heads go back and forth as I place my hand on Dad’s arm, and we walk up the aisle together, listening to Trystan pour his heart out. The words vibrate within me, touching me in a way I can’t explain. The moment seems surreal like it’ll change everything, and it will.
He strums the final chord as we reach the altar, letting it fade into silence. I’m covered in chills as he stands and hands the guitar to Seth. The past few months have been hard for him. Transitioning as he lost the remainder of his eyesight has been difficult, but he takes it in stride with a smile on his face. You’d never know so much has been taken from this man. You’d look at him and think he had life handed to him on a silver platter, that he never knew misfortune a day in his life.
Trystan carries his head high, and his family loves him for it. On his side of the church, his mother, Lynn, and his half-brother, Jared, share the first row with Bob—who is a sight to see in a tux. The man looks like he might rip it apart with his muscles.
Dad kisses me on the cheek and steps toward Trystan. Admiration flows from Daddy in waves. Trystan told his fans that this wouldn’t end his career—if they’d have him, he’d deal with it and keep going. Trystan was met with a resounding yes. It wasn’t until Trystan needed help that Dad saw how hard he works. Dad slowly cut my hours back at the hospital until one day he suggested I travel with Trystan and be his on-staff medic. His only request was that I maintained my position as liaison between the hospital and the impoverished.
I never expected so much to change so quickly. I’ve been interviewed a half-dozen times since Trystan announced his condition, and they all ask the same question, “How do you handle the bittersweet reality that your life together will bring?”
I don’t see it that way, not at all. If Trystan hadn’t lost his sight, we wouldn’t have ever gotten back together. Fate took one hideous event in his life and forced him to make a choice: he could become bitter about his loss, or he could keep fighting for everything he wants. Trystan didn’t back down.
Dad slides my hand into Trystan’s, and we turn to face the altar. Super pregnant Katie beams at me as she waves her bouquet. Seth is so proud of Trystan he looks like he might burst.
Gilbert is sitting with a pillow in his mouth and a little top hat on his head. I skipped the gaggle of bridesmaids, but I couldn’t pass on the ring dog. I am wondering how Katie got him to sit and not eat the pillow and the rings, but he remains where he is, wagging his tail happily.
Trystan squeezes my hand and leans in close, brushing a kiss on my cheek. “I love you, Mari.”
In giddy excitement, I squeeze his hand hard and beam at him. Whispering in his ear, I say, “I love you, too. And I’m having enough trouble paying attention without you kissing me. I’m going to miss it.”
“Miss what?”
The pastor clears his throat, and repeats, “Doctor Mari Jennings, do you take this man to have and to hold from this day forth until death do you part?”
I giggle and kiss the back of Trystan’s hand and say in a hushed whisper that’s way too loud, “That part! Stop talking to me!” A few giggles rumble through the church as I scold my husband-to-be. I look straight at Trystan and hand Katie my bouquet. I place my hands on the sides of his face and he mirrors me, doing the same to mine. “I do.”
He grins. “Yeah, we can’t skip that part. That’s important.”
I try not to laugh. “It is.”
The pastor smiles down at us. “Trystan Scott, do you take Mari—”
Trystan cuts him off, “I take Mari Jennings to have and to hold, from this day on until death parts us, and beyond. My heart was only made for one woman, and she’s standing in front of me. I do. I always will.”
Everything after that becomes a blur. The only thing I can see in that moment is Trystan. I feel his hands on my face and sense the conviction of his promise, and when he kisses me, it’s like a dream.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times bestselling author HM Ward continues to reign as the queen of independent publishing. She has sold over 10 MILLION copies, placing her among the literary titans. Articles pertaining to Ward's success have appeared in The New York Times, USA Today, and Forbes to name a few. This native New Yorker resides in Texas with her family, where she enjoys working on her next book.
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