Bound to You

Chapter 47

I was shaking from head to toe and couldn't seem to stop.

"Lena, you're freaking out," Allie said, reaching for something on the table behind me. "Here. Drink this." She handed me a flask, and I looked down at it for a second before deciding it probably wasn't the worst idea and taking a pull from whatever was inside. Vodka. Fantastic.

"I'm fine," I said, but Allie didn't look like she believed me. She grasped both of my elbows and smiled at me. "It's going to be perfect," she said, and somehow, that did make my nerves calm down a little bit.

Or maybe that was the vodka.

The door behind me opened, and I turned to see who was coming in. I wasn't sure what I wanted more- for it to be you, secretly coming to see me because you couldn't stand it a moment longer, or my dad, here to give me away even though he'd never responded to the invitation we sent him.

But it was neither.

It was my mother.

She stepped into the room, closed the door behind her, and then just stood there, staring at me. Her eyes went watery, and I moved quick, burying myself in her arms. She squeezed me tight and sniffled.

"You look so beautiful," she said. "That dress." She held me at arm's length to look down at it. It was an A-line dress, with a silk skirt, a fitted and beaded bodice, and very thin, almost not even there, straps. I'd picked it out, knowing you would love it, knowing you would love to push aside the straps, suck me through the fabric, push the skirt up while we made love.

"I can't believe that only a few months ago I thought you weren't interested in having a boyfriend, and now here you are, about to get married."

"Mom?"

Her eyes had barely been able to meet mine, and I could tell she knew what I was going to ask before I said it, so I didn't even get the words out before she was shaking her head. "Your father didn't come. And I know I'm not him, but I'd be honored if you let me give you away."

I grinned at her. "That sounds amazing."

She held me a little longer, until someone appeared out of nowhere to tell me it was time to go. I stood behind Allie, my Maid of Honor and only bridesmaid, and waited for her to step out of the little house and into the garden. We'd found this place online, randomly, and decided that the little garden behind the old Victorian house was the perfect place for us. We were having very few people, and weren't looking for anything extraordinary, a quiet kind of intensity, like it always was for us.

My mother looped my arm through hers, and together we stepped out into the garden. There were only a small handful of people, but they were all blurry, completely out of focus, as I stared at you at the end of the aisle. You looked painfully handsome in your tuxedo, with your hair all pushed back like you liked it, and I felt everything in my body go calm then at seeing you.

It was you.

After all this time, it was really you.

I walked toward you, let my mother kiss me on the cheek before passing me off. And then my hands were in yours, and we were saying our vows, and I was crying as you leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

"I love you," you said against my mouth.

"I love you," I choked back.

We had the reception there in the garden, with waiters handing out finger foods and glasses of champagne. You pressed your face into my neck and breathed in my scent, and I giggled.

"God, get a room," Allie groaned, and then grinned at us. "You guys are annoyingly adorable, and I'm so happy for you."

I reached out and squeezed her arm. "Thanks for being here."

Allie rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. After all the hours you spent pining over him in my bedroom, how could I miss it?"

My eyes went wide, and beside me, you chuckled. "Pining, huh?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but my eyes were caught by someone coming into the garden from beside the house. At first, I thought I was imagining things, but when you looked, when your eyes widened, I knew he was really there. My father.

We stayed still, let him walk to us. My mother was pressed to the side of the house, her hand covering her mouth, and I could see the tears in her eyes.

"Lena," he said when he finally reached us. His eyes flitted to you. "John."

"Hi," you said, and for a second, I forgot that the two of you had been best friends for years, how awkward this must have been for both of you.

"Lena, could I speak with you?" my father asked, and you started to take your arm from around my waist, but I stopped you.

"Dad, if you want to talk to me, you'll have to talk to John, too."

He didn't even try to argue. His eyes were soft and apologetic when he looked at me, at us. "I don't feel I was wrong to be angry that the two of you kept this relationship a secret from me. But perhaps I was wrong to stay mad. Lena, sometimes I have a hard time remembering that you're not a child anymore, and when the two of you came to me with this, well, all I could see was my best friend, so much older than you, taking advantage of my daughter."

"That wasn't what happened," I said, thinking of all the times I threw myself at you, at how much I wanted you, even when I was too young to have you.

"I know," my father said. "Your mother has filled me in on everything. So, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry and that I'm happy for both of you. Also, John, you are one of the people I respect most in the world, but if you hurt my daughter, I will have you drawn and quartered."

Beside me, you laughed. "Understood."

My father looked awkward for a second, not sure what to do with his hands, so I leaned forward, out of your embrace, and hugged him.

"Thank you, Dad."

He nodded sagely, and I thought I saw tears in his eyes when he turned away. I watched him approach my mother and then turned to you. "Well, then," I said, "now if only we could get your mother to apologize."

We looked at your mother, on the other side of the garden, her mouth pulled straight into a line and one hand gripping the handle of your father's wheelchair.

You rolled yours eyes, and I laughed.