He stepped around me and started down the stairs. "Ri," I called. "Thank you for all of this."
"Not a problem," he said.
"And Riley?" I called. "What the fuck are you wearing? And when was the last time you had a haircut? Or shaved?"
He glanced down at the kilt and shrugged. "I lost a bet," he said, leaning toward me with a smirk. "But I think I actually won, because this thing is awesome. My balls are ecstatic. I would legit wear it every day, and chicks dig beards. Man-buns, too."
I shook my head with a sigh. He had the Jason Momoa-Brock O'Hurn man-bun going, which was significantly better than the stubby ones I'd seen on many a pretentious asshole in recent history. And his junk wasn't falling out of his trousers, and that was worth celebrating.
"I don't even know how to respond to that." Eyeing the crowd again, I said, "Shannon just walked in with SEAL Team Six. Go distract her."
She was going to wring my fucking neck when she realized this was my wedding, and she'd been enlisted as neither consultant nor coordinator.
"Roger that," he said. "And please note, we're calling him Captain America."
"Fantastic," I muttered. "I need a goddamn flowchart to keep up with this shit."
I knocked on the heavy barn door that separated our bedroom from the surrounding area, listening for any sounds of protest. I didn't know how far she wanted to take this whole 'not seeing the bride' thing.
Tiel hadn't taken the traditional route when it came to anything wedding-related, but it wasn't going to shock me if she pulled out some last-minute request or superstition. She'd been oscillating between hearty bouts of self-confidence and hysterical dips into emotional quicksand since our trip to Jersey, and part of me expectedsomethingunexpected in order to get married tonight.
If that was even happening.
It wasn't a thought that owned much credence, but there were split-seconds where I read Tiel's anxiety as doubt. But when I pulled back and examined it all with a skeptical eye, I knew it was the toll this month had taken on her. She'd been through a lot with her family, was still contending with a not-so-great fit in academia, and made a point of choking down some foul tea each morning at the off-chance it helped us get pregnant.
The tea alone was a lot to handle. That shit smelled dreadful.
"Sweetheart?" I called, glancing around our room.
A long row of brick arches ran north to south, and we'd fashioned them into alcoves for bookshelves, makeshift closets, and open-air dressing rooms. I found Tiel at the far end, seated on the floor with her back to the brick and her knees tucked to her chest. A tiny plume of peacock feathers was woven into her hair with narrow braids, and she held her dress to her chest, the zipper gaping open at the back. Her hands were painted with swirling designs in ultra-fine henna. Ellie must have initiated that for she was the only person who fully understood Tiel's need to embrace certain elements of her father's Indian roots.
"It's almost time," I said. "Everything's in place, everyone is here—"
"Everyone?" she repeated, her head tilting up to look at me. Her eyes were filled with sad hope. "Everyone, but not…"
I'd sent Vikram the date and location on the off chance he had any balls whatsoever, but my email received no response. He'd stopped messaging Tiel about her mother's broken-heartedness, too, and that was for the best.
I couldn't imagine any member of her family making an appearance tonight, and as she blinked up at me, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, my heart hurt for her.
"This is about you and me, Sunshine. Nothing else matters," I said, dropping down beside her. "You have me and I have you, and we're everything we need."
"My parents aren't coming to my wedding," she whispered. She was gazing at the floor, her eyes distant and her voice broken. "My father isn't going to walk me down the aisle and my mother isn't going to straighten my dress, and—andthey're not comingfor me. They're not coming for me, and I still don't understand what I did wrong. What did I do, Sam?"
"Don't ever say that. You shine too bright for them, Tiel, and they don't understand you. Don't ever say you're not enough." I brought my arms around her and pulled her into my lap, but she was already shuddering with sobs. "I want to give you everything, anything. My family, my name, my children,my everything. Take it all. Takeme, and letmegive you everything they couldn't."
She cried into my chest for long, aching minutes, and the only thing I could do was hold her.
"I want all of that, but what if…" Her voice trailed off as she ran a finger up and down my lapels, that bottom lip white against the pressure of her teeth. "What if something happened to you? You're all I have left, and this is serious now. What if something terrible happened? How would I…what would I—"
"Stop," I said, squeezing her close to me as she sniffled. "Stop, sweetheart. Nothing is happening to either of us."
"No, but what if you're walking down the street some day and get swallowed by a sinkhole, or one of your properties comes crashing down around you, or if you got sick and I lost you, and maybe we shouldn't do this. I love us right now. I don't want to lose us. Ican'tlose us."
"Is that what you're worried about? Us changing?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I'm worried about everything, Sam. What happens if we're not the same anymore? If everything changes and you decide you don't want me anymore?"
"This," I said, pressing my palm to her heart, "isn't changing."
