He grins so wide and bright, displaying his perfect white teeth.
“Maybe we can wait until things have settled,” I suggest. I’ve waited for so long that a few days seem inconsequential.
“No, we’re going to the compound to share the good news.” His voice leaves no room for argument.
I nod, wanting to move past the rift. Last night, I didn’t catch the entire conversation between him and my brother, but what I heard sounded promising.
I couldn’t keep being selfless at the cost of my heart slowly withering away.
After we change, he helps me into the passenger seat, and he tells a few of his men to follow us in a van. I smile, thinking he won’t be deterred in his plan of moving me in.
We spend the short drive with his palm on my thigh and his thumb swiping right and left. Heat creeps up my neck and cheeks, but I swallow the desire, postponing it for later.
I can’t stop gazing at the ring. The diamonds shine so brightly, catching the light and refracting it into hundreds of dazzling rainbows, making me impatient to celebrate my engagement with my family.
Once the gates open, the mansion comes into view.
The bout of nostalgia hits me out of nowhere. I guess it’s to be expected considering I’ve spent my entire life here. The good and bad memories flash before my eyes, but I refuse to be sucked into a vortex of past wrongdoings and what-ifs.
Fully anchoring myself in the present, I look forward to the future with my fiancé.
When we walk inside the house, one of the staff members informs us that my family is having breakfast.
Hand in hand, we walk into the dining room.
My mother catches on to my bright mood and smiles back.
My brother lets a mumble out, and my sister-in-law claps her hands together in sheer excitement.
I thrust my hand out, and the women gasp while my brother mumbles under his breath, but he gives a small, reassuring nod.
Calla is the first to rush over and congratulate us, wrapping her arms around us in a tight embrace.
My mother follows, hugging me tightly. “Enjoy every moment. Love every day. Live every second.”
I nod through the lump of emotions and wait for my brother to make a move.
My fiancé stiffens next to me, and when I look up, he glares at Enzo, the threat of violence dangling there.
My brother pushes himself out of the chair and walks toward us.
I wait with bated breath for his next move, my heart clenching at the thought of him not giving us his approval or blessing.
“Do you know what being his wife means?” he asks earnestly.
I nod, aware of the implications, aware of the consequences. But I’ve always been a gilded bird. I don’t want to spread my wings and fly away. It’s just not in me, and I refuse to allow anyone to shame me or guilt-trip me into thinking I should want something different.
I am well aware of what I want. I’ve never desired the world or to prove something to anyone. I play because I love to play, and I want to marry the man I’ve always loved. My wishes are simple like that.
I need familiarity. And I thrive on the known.
“Swear she will always come first,” Enzo demands.
Mika brings his palm to his chest. “Always.”
The honesty and truthfulness in this single word reverberate through me. I believe him wholeheartedly.
“Then let’s have breakfast together. We’re family,” Enzo says, stretching out his arms for a hug, which I eagerly accept.
