The fragrant surroundings give him away before I even open my eyes.
White cherry blossoms skate across the midnight sky. Tendrils of moonlit beauty unfurl this way and that, so enchanting that my breath catches.
“They bloomed,” I whisper.
“They did.” He smiles. “I’ve been checking every day on my way to the museum. I planned to bring you here tonight, until…” The corners of his mouth fall before lifting again. “Well, you deserved to end the night on a good note.”
“The best note,” I breathe, reveling in the scent of happy memories. I break away, wandering beneath the star-dusted branches. Each blossom skirting the wood symbolizes a fresh start. A new beginning.Mynew beginning. Clutching a hand to my heart, I turn back.
Brandon stands motionless, gazing at me with intense adoration.
I start to cry for what feels like the millionth time.
“Are you okay?” He rushes toward me.
“I’msookay. More okay than I’ve ever—” The words are coming out all wrong, and I flap my hands. “This is the best worst night of my entire life.”
A laugh bursts out of Brandon, and I can’t help but reciprocate it through my tears.
A crooked smile tilts his mouth. He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear before tracing my smile with his thumb.
“I’m going to marry you, you know,” he says.
A flutter rises in my chest. “Are you, now?”
His grin grows. “No, notnow, but someday. And I’d like to put a baby in you at some point, too.”
My stunned laugh punctuates the air. “Smooth, Brandon. Real smooth. And those are some mighty plans you have.”
“Wehave.” He calls my bluff, lifting his palms to cradle my face. His eyes dance between mine, stirring my butterflies into a cloud.
“I’m going to make you happy, Kate.” He presses a kiss to my mouth, soft and sweet. “Every day.” Another languid kiss before his voice darkens. “Every night.” Another kiss, but harder this time. “Every year.”
His words mingle with the breeze as my soul mingles with his.
Our future swirls around us, fragrant with magic.
And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am worthy of it all.
We both are.
ONE MONTH LATER
The Vanderbilt wing has transformed into a gauzy, floral-scented dream. Paintings still glow from their permanent positions on the wall, but the rest of the hall is unrecognizable.
Soft white lanterns hang from wrought iron stands that punctuate the aisle. Thick garlands of freesia and ivy line the path that my best friend will walk down in only a matter of minutes. The aisle ends in an arch, and just beyond hangs Amantha’s favorite painting,Attersee Bei Sonnenuntergang,orLake Attersee at Sunset.
The soft chatter of guests carries above the string quartet stationed inside the entrance. Blythe, Robyn, Kendra, Rick, and other museum staff are already seated in the back row. Amantha’s entire family is here, as is mine.
It’s odd to see all the people in my life mixed together, but something warms in my stomach at the way Susan tries to engage Mom in a conversation. Val’s Nonna teeters around, refusing to listen to anyone and everyone about where she’s allowed to sit.
I smooth a hand over my dress, sudden nerves making me jittery.Ridiculous,I have to remind myself. It’s not like this ismywedding.
Julia approaches in an identical silk gown to where I’m peeking around the entrance wall. Our dresses are understated, with featherlight straps and square necklines. The shade reminds me of pale morning mist rising over lake water. The bouquet of white lilies we hold are smaller versions of the one Amantha will carry.
But Julia’s large blue eyes are agape with concern.
I don’t immediately panic, though. I adore my new friend, but Julia’s worries can span from someone’s leg being severed from their body to one of the wedding guests turning up their nose at her.
