Layna’s situation was awhole story. But one for another time.
“Have I thanked you and Wick for letting us use your house?” I asked, smiling at Violet.
And by ‘house,’ I meant their privateisland. Complete with its own boat in case we wanted or needed to get to one of the mainlands on our stay. Perish had actually been taking lessons for both boating and survival, just in case we had any issues.
We wouldn’t.
The house was state-of-the-art, complete with solar power and fully stocked cupboards and refrigerators, not to mention an island full of fruit trees.
But I loved how proactive he was, how he was always trying to make sure he was prepared for the worst so he could protect me from that fate.
“He’s gonna get a kick out of the birds,” Violet said with a knowing smile.
“You know him well.”
“Hey, baby,” my mom said, ducking back into the room in her pretty baby pink gown. She was the prettiest mother of the bride I’d ever seen. “Your father is just outside. We’re about ready.”
I slowly stood, flattening a hand down my belly.
I’d always loved a full princess gown but was too short for the style.
I’d gone with a soft A-line dress with a deep V neckline, structured lace with floral appliqués, and a skirt made of layers of fine tulle.
It was modern but romantic and ethereal.
My hair was down, with a waist-length headband veil that didn’t cover my face.
Makeup was subtle.
The only jewelry I had was the borrowed earrings my mother had given me.
The whole look I felt fit the venue.
Which was, as no surprise to anyone, at the Grassi’s barn where Perish had saved me the first time.
When I’d walked around earlier, I had a few moments of remembering the divorce party I’d been working on that night: the damn castrated ice sculpture, the table of sex toys.
But as a whole, the place had been transformed into a completely different place with rustic tables and chairs and more flowers than I could even count.
It was a touch feminine. But when I’d worried about that, Perish had waved my concerns away, saying that was what he loved about me: how soft I was.
“Hey, sweetheart,” my father said, his eyes looking a little watery. “You ready?”
I slid my arm through his and leaned my head against his shoulder.
“Yes.”
The wedding itself was outside on the sprawling green that Perish had brought back to its former glory. Not a single weed could be found as my father led me to the arbor, pausing for the grand entrance—and for the photographer to get some good shots—before walking me down the aisle toward Perish.
It was all a watery blur as my father handed me off to my soon-to-be husband.
Perish reached up, wiping away a tear.
Then he leaned down and whispered, “If you get too watery, just think of the ice penis.”
It was the little bit of levity I needed to get me through the ceremony without crying through my supposedly waterproof mascara.
Perish - 3 years
