Authors: Krista Ritchie,Becca Ritchie
“Hold
on,” Rose chokes, worry coating her voice. She moves swiftly, drawing cream
curtains closed so that her employees can’t see into her office.
I
take a seat on her white couch, another breathtaking view through the window.
This time New York City. And then Rose sinks down on the cushion, turning her
body towards mine.
She
rubs my leg. “Connor…”
I
take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together slowly. I try to speak, to
let it out, but I shake my head and pinch my eyes as they outflow. Why is this
so hard? Why do real emotions have to be so devastating? Why do they have to
cripple me?
“It’s
okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
But
I do. I need to fucking say it. “I hate her…” I start. The first thing that
comes out of my mouth is impudent and juvenile. I can’t take it back. I just
keep going. “I hate that she has continued to blind me. No matter
how
wide I open my eyes, there’s been a
haze that only she could clear. And she made me believe that I was walking in
the fucking clear sky.” I pinch my eyes again, and I actually scream, one that
burns my throat. “I am so—”
“Don’t
you dare say
stupid
,” she snaps.
“You’re
not
stupid, Richard.”
“I
feel like an idiot,” I tell her. “I was fooled
by my own mother for two fucking years, Rose. Two years, and she
couldn’t find it in her heart to tell her
only
son that she has breast cancer? That she’s
dying?
”
My throat swells as the truth bears down on me. “She made me believe I’d be
taking over Cobalt Inc. in five years, maybe ten. And this whole time, she knew
I’d be taking it in two months.”
Rose’s
mouth falls. “Two…months?”
“Two
months. That’s how long she has left.”
I
extend my arms. “And she didn’t think it was important to tell me.”
Not until now. She was scared. I saw the fear
in her eyes at her office. It’s why she’s been regretting and remembering the
past. And yet, I can’t pity her. I can’t wish her farewell.
I
only hate that it took
death
for her
to see her mistakes.
And
I hate that it’s taken me the same to see mine.
I
unlace my fingers from Rose, and I hold her one hand in between two of mine,
just staring at them for a while. I call her stubborn, but in the past year and
a half, I’ve been worse.
I
meet those fierce yellow-green eyes. Even in the wake of my pain, she has this
resilience that’s more beautiful than words can describe. It’s fire to my
water. And I want her to burn me alive.
“You’re
the only one who has ever loved me,” I confess, my chest heavy. “Not a mother.
Not a father. Not a friend. Just you, Rose.” All these years, I never thought
I’d need anyone but me to survive. My mother thought the same.
I
was wrong.
“I
don’t want to be sixty years old and wishing I opened myself up to the people I
care about. I don’t want to look back and regret that I wasn’t a better friend
or a better man to the woman I adore.”
She’s
already crying. I haven’t even said it yet.
Tears
fall down her cheeks, matching mine.
“And
I can’t tell you how long I’ve been fighting the truth, but it’s been awhile,”
I say.
The
next words come from the core of my chest. Each word is like taking on water
and breathing in oxygen—a paradox that I enjoy very much.
“I
am so
deeply
in love with you, Rose.”
I wipe her cheeks with my thumb.
She
tries to smile but every time she does, more tears fall. I can tell they’re
from a place of joy by the way her eyes light. And then she says, “
Ca
vous
a
pris
pas mal de temps.”
It took you long
enough.
I
said the same thing to her once. “How long do we have left?”
She
finally smiles through the tears. “Forever.”
I
draw her to my chest and kiss her strongly, not letting go.
I
realize, in this very moment, that love was the only thing missing from my
life.
And
it’s the only thing that matters to me.
I
can live with that.
As
stupid as it may seem.
[ 51 ]
ROSE CALLOWAY
Connor reties the halter on my bridesmaid’s dress
in the limo while I read an article to him off my phone. When I finish I say,
“Well?”
“You
shouldn’t fixate on a gossip columnist.”
“It’s
not a gossip
site. This is a
news
article, Richard,” I snap. “Did you
not hear what they said?” I’m about to reread the part of the article where
they condemn him for not being a real dominant in a dominant/submissive
relationship. I didn’t even know there were standards that had to be met.
“There
aren’t rules,” he says calmly. “We do what works for us, and if no one on the
internet likes it, then they’re free to watch another porn that doesn’t star
us.
” He grins. “Although, they won’t be
as good…”
I
turn around and smack his chest. “I’m serious.”
“So
am I,” he says, staring down at me with an intense gaze, like he’d love to
consume all of me.
Love.
I
smile. Yes, he loves me.
That
never gets old.
“You
need to stop reading all of these articles that dissect the sex videos,” he
says in a low, husky voice. “It’ll spin your mind.”
“Maybe
I like my mind to be spun.”
“I
can find a much healthier
way to do
that.” His lips rise, and he leans close to kiss me, but the limo bumps down
the cobblestone street, tearing my attention to the outside.
“We’re
here,” I say, filled with a flurry of emotions.
Our
limo ditches the rabid media behind the entry, and I roll down my window,
hearing the helicopters buzzing in the air. I ignore them and focus on the
palace looming ahead, taking in the stunning architecture and massive size.
This really is a wedding fit for a queen.
I
hope Lily is more excited than anxious today. I feel like I’m carrying nerves
for the both of us. I’m not sure what to expect. Connor has taken the reins of
the wedding, which means every detail is a surprise. He’s already confessed to
changing the venue, no longer a church in the heart of Paris.
We’re
a little bit outside of the city now. “I still don’t know how you booked the
Château de Fontainebleau,” I tell him, stunned.
Connor
wraps an arm over my shoulders and leans into my ear. “I have my ways.”
Connor
and his ways. “You mean your connections,” I clarify.
“Those,
yes,” he smiles.
I
check the time on my cell again, and he slips it right out of my hand. I ignore
his tactics to calm my nerves, and I hike up my bright pink bridesmaid dress to
climb to the seat closest to the driver. “Excuse me,” I say in clipped words.
“Could you drive just a little faster? We’re running behind.”
“We’re
thirty minutes early,” Connor reminds me, his smile only widening.
“And
I wanted to be an hour early,” I snap at him. “But someone spent fifteen
minutes just choosing cufflinks. I don’t think Loren really cares that you put
on your…” I glance at his wrists. “Are those real gold?”
His
grin lifts to his eyes, which only makes me roll mine. And then I catch a peek
out the window and my stomach dives. What the…
fuck!
I
grab at my dress again, bunching the pink fabric in my hand so that I don’t rip
it. I move to the window and practically stick my entire head out like a dog.
Not the most unladylike thing I’ve done. But it’s close. Connor’s hands land on
my hips and pull me back in.
“There
are cameras in the sky,” he says.
“And
there are roses on the path!” I scream, my eyes bugged. “You changed the
flowers to roses?!” Lily is going to kill me. This is so, so, so wrong. I chose
orchids.
Neutral flower territory.
Connor’s
eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he follows my frantic gaze. “That must have
been a mistake.” He turns back to me and cups my cheeks. “Breathe. I’m going to
text the wedding coordinator and have them change it.”
“
You’re
the wedding coordinator,” I
refute.
He
grins
again
.
“Hun,
I’m the wedding
delegator
. I have one
wedding planner and ten wedding coordinators at my disposal, which really are
just glorified assistants.”
Of
course he would delegate all of his duties. Now I’m really nervous. He has put
trust into other people, whereas I’d rather kill myself by trying to do it
alone.
Check your pride, Rose.
Right,
my pride is not fucking up
anything
today.
I go to look at what else has been ruined, but he keeps his hands on my
shoulders, forcing me to stay.
“This
is going to be a long day. I want you beside me, not crawling out of a window,”
he tells me. “What do you say? You accept this challenge, Rose Calloway?”
I
nod, willing to feed into his plans to calm my nerves.
Just
this once.
* * *
“Where is everyone?!” My heels clap down the empty
corridor that echoes. No one is here. I don’t understand. No Lily or Loren. No
Ryke
or Daisy. No guests or parents. I’m not stupid. It’s
clear that Connor changed the time of the wedding.
“What’d
you push it back to?”
“Four,”
he says. “You wanted to be early.”
“Not
three
hours early.” Is he crazy?
I
put my hands on my hips, but he sets his palm on the small of my back and leads
me in a new direction.
“Where
are we going?”
“Outside.”
“I
need to call Lily. I need to find her and make sure she’s not
hyperventilating.”
“Lily’s
fine.”
“I’m
sure she’s on the precipice of a mental breakdown,” I ignore his comment. “It’s
my duty as the maid of honor to calm her.”
“Has
anyone ever told you to stop and smell the roses?” he asks with an edging
smile.
I
roll my eyes. “Ha
ha
,” I say. “I’ve heard them all,
believe me—” I’m distracted as soon as my heels sink into the manicured lawn.
And then I look up and I become rooted to the earth. Connor waits by my side,
his hand never leaving my back.
Cream,
pink and red roses cascade along hedges, filling the gardens. But it’s not the
gorgeous flowers that have me overflowing with emotion.
In
the open courtyard stands Lily, Daisy and Poppy, wearing pale pink bridesmaids’
dresses, simple and light, unlike the one I’m smothered in. Almost like
something I used to wear at ballet recitals.
“I
don’t…” I shake my head as I take in their bright, glowing features. Lily is
crying. And smiling.
Then
I see Poppy’s husband and
Ryke
and Loren, all in
tuxes, dapper and handsome. And then…
“Mother?”
My
mom wipes a couple tears as she smiles. She has her hands to her chest, choked
with emotion, her pearls gone for the day. I almost start crying at the sight.
My father stands by her side with an equally heartfelt reaction towards me.
Connor
gently leads me closer to them.
I
add together all the pieces and I shake my head quickly. “Connor, Connor we
can’t hijack my sister’s wedding.”
“I
didn’t,” Connor says.
“We
gave it to him a month ago,” Loren explains with a growing smile.
“What?”
I look between all of them, incensed that they kept a secret from me at first,
but then I absorb each face, each family member and friend.
Everyone
is happy.
I
imagined today as a brutal one. Yelling. Screaming. Tugging Lily down the
aisle, praying both her and Loren would say yes. “But…” I stammer as I glance
at both my mother and father. I haven’t processed what’s happening to me yet.
“…Lily’s inheritance. You said she couldn’t get it back until she married
Loren.”
“We’re
still engaged,” Lily says, she sidles next to Loren and he wraps an arm around
her waist. “We’re just waiting to get married like we wanted to.”
“And
it’s okay,” my dad says with a nod. “We’re not making their marriage a
stipulation to anything. They can do that on their own time.”
I
look to my mother. She reaches to her collar where her pearls would sit, but without
them present, she touches the hollowness of her bone. It’s her only tell, her
only giveaway that she may not be one-hundred percent satisfied with this
outcome for my sister. But her lips stay pressed in a thin line, not arguing.
She’s accepting it now, and that’s a start. The reality show did repair more of
Lily’s image than this wedding could have. People were given six months of
footage to fall in love with her and Loren instead of a dozen pictures.