He giggled, and I caught Ophelia watching us, her expression soft and uncertain.When our eyes met, she didn't look away this time.
"You didn't have to do all this," she said quietly.
"I know."I straightened up as the manager returned with our room keys."But if we're doing this, we're doing it right."
"Your suite is ready, Mr.Hernandez," the manager announced, handing over the key cards."The private elevator is to your right.Your luggage will be brought up immediately."
"Thank you."I placed a final tip on the counter.
As we walked toward the elevator, Dante skipping ahead and Ophelia close by my side, I felt her hand brush against mine—not quite holding it but not pulling away either.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the casino sounds surrounding us.
I nodded, not making a big deal of it.But as we stepped into the private elevator, Dante bouncing with excitement and Ophelia standing a little straighter than before, the tension between us eased.Trust settled in slowly, cautious but real.Or maybe it was only the beginning of it.
The bridal boutique was all soft lighting and champagne flutes, aimed at women who'd been planning their weddings since childhood.Not exactly my scene, and judging by Ophelia's wide eyes as we entered, not hers either.The saleswoman approached with a practiced smile, taking in our unlikely trio—me in my jeans and t-shirt, Ophelia looking exhausted but determined, and Dante clutching his Spider-Man backpack like a lifeline.To her credit, her smile never faltered.
"We need a wedding dress," I said before she could launch into her sales pitch."Simple.We're getting married today."
"Today?"The woman's eyebrows rose slightly."How exciting.A Vegas elopement."
Ophelia stepped forward, her voice stronger than I'd expected."Yes.Nothing elaborate.Just...nice."
The saleswoman—her nametag read Margaret—nodded professionally."I understand completely.Let's find you a beautiful ready-to-wear dress."She glanced at her watch."What time is your ceremony?"
"Five o'clock," I answered.We'd booked the chapel from the hotel room, choosing a time that would give us enough hours to prepare but not enough to second-guess.
"Perfect.We have plenty of time."Margaret turned to Ophelia with genuine warmth."Let's find you a dress that makes you feel beautiful, shall we?"
I settled onto a velvet couch with Dante while Ophelia disappeared into the fitting rooms.The kid immediately started exploring, touching the tulle and satin of nearby display dresses with curious fingers.
"Is Mommy going to look like a princess?"he asked, running his hand along a heavily beaded gown.
"I bet she will," I answered, surprised by the sincerity in my own voice.
Margaret emerged with several garment bags."I've selected a few options based on what might complement your coloring and frame," she explained to Ophelia."All of these could be worn today without alterations."
Ophelia nodded, disappearing into the fitting room with the first dress.While we waited, Margaret brought Dante a cookie from the boutique's refreshment table and offered me champagne, which I declined.I needed a clear head today.
When Ophelia stepped out in the first dress—lace sleeves and a complicated back—I could tell immediately it wasn't right.Her face said it all, uncomfortable and uncertain.The second dress was better, but still not quite her.
Then she emerged in the third option, and the entire mood between us changed.
It was simple—white silk that flowed from modest straps to just below her knees, with a slight flare at the hips.No beads, no lace, nothing elaborate.But on her, it was transformative.The color made her blonde hair seem to glow, and for the first time since I'd met her, she stood straight, shoulders back, no longer trying to make herself invisible.
"Oh, Mommy," Dante breathed."You look like an angel."
Ophelia's eyes met mine in the mirror, questioning.I wasn't prepared for the tightness that gripped my chest, or the words that came out of my mouth.
"He's right," I said simply."You look beautiful."
A flush spread across her cheeks, and pleasure, surprise, and a vulnerability flickered in her eyes.It hit me harder than any punch I'd taken in the ring.
"This one," she said softly to Margaret."This is the one."
While Margaret boxed the dress, I paid at the register, waving away Ophelia's protests."Consider it a wedding gift," I told her, ignoring the warmth that spread through me when she smiled in response.
Next stop was the men's store, where I steered us toward the ready-to-wear suits.Dante's excitement peaked when he realized he'd be matching me.
