The sincerity in his gaze—and voice—touches my core.
Now we’re both crying.
“One thing I know about my beautiful wife is she’ll be watching over her baby girl,” Daddy says in between tears.
In that simple statement, it’s as if Thana was never part of our lives.
I nod in response because my heart is too heavy to speak.
“Charlize will be all decked out, with her nails done, her makeup expertly applied, and her long silver hair dyed brown and styled—coiffed, like she used to say.” He offers a sad smile. “She’ll be wearing a fancy dress and an elegant fascinator as a nod to her British roots. You know she’ll be holding a glass of champagne, looking down from heaven above, giving God the play-by-play.” He pauses. “She might not physically be with you on Sunday, but she’ll be right here.” He taps two fingers against his heart.
Now, he’s the one to break me.
I bawl like a child.
Chapter 19
Michaela
Ipray to God the pageant smile frozen on my lips fools everybody.
I’m going to be sick.
I’m going to be sick.
I’m going to be sick.
I’m this close to throwing up. Cold sweat prickles down my back even though it’s another beautiful, sunny California day. My throat is parched, as if I’ve been wandering in the desert for days. My stomach is in knots and my skin burns with awareness. The butterflies that have been fluttering away in my stomach since walking down the aisle hanging from my father’s arm are now engaged in the type of wild dance that could ward off evil spirits.
I’m terrified.
I’ve long stopped hearing the priest’s monotone voice. I’m trapped inside the confinement of my head.
I got this.
I can do this.
I knew this day was coming. I woke up with the full understanding there was no safety net. I either jump or run.As tempting as it was to become a runaway bride and make headlines, I decided against it.
So, here I am.
Dear God, I’m really getting married.
As I stand in front of God, my dad, Uncle Ian, Keira, Rhys, and all the people from Phoenix’s side, I become keenly aware of the vows I just took. The second Phoenix slipped the wedding band on my finger, a violent wave of nausea threatened to shoot out of me like a projectile. The weight of all those perfect, shimmery diamonds on my finger is as heavy as a prison sentence. And then there are all those eyes shining with hope, witnessing this sham of a wedding.
The end justifies the means.
Phoenix cocks a brow, concern evident in his eyes.
I give him a tight nod in response, my pageant smile still firmly in place.
He squeezes my hand before bringing it up to his lips, kissing it with tenderness.
He knows I’m bullshitting.
His action elicits a round of chuckles from the crowd.
The priest clears his throat and adjusts his glasses.
