When we arrive at the school, I anxiously scan the crowd, hoping to spot my dad in the sea of faces. Then, like a beacon of joy, I see him walking in with a big bouquet of red roses.
“Dad!” I exclaim and immediately run toward him, engulfing him in a tight hug. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, treasure. You look beautiful,” he compliments, and I can’t help but smile.
“Is that for me?” I ask, pointing to the bouquet, and he nods.
“I’ll hold it for you until after the ceremony,” he says, warmth in his voice that mirrors the love in his eyes.
They all go grab their seats as I join my classmates. After twenty minutes, we are marching out as people cheer. We all sit in our seats, and the ceremony begins. The grand hall is abuzz with excitement and anticipation. The room is adorned with elegant decorations, vibrant colors, cascading fabrics, and avant-garde designs.
After the ceremony, I search for my family amidst the crowd. I spot Calvin conversing with the president of the university. As soon as he notices me, he excuses himself and hurries over, his eyes sparkling with pride. I envelop him in a tight embrace. “Congratulations, fiancée,” he exclaims, his voice brimming with genuine joy. Unable to contain my emotions, I kiss him deeply. Calvin breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away from my lips. “People are staring,” he cautions, amused.
Glancing around, I realize he’s right: curious gazes linger on us. But instead of feeling self-conscious, I revel in the love we share. “I don’t care,” I declare, a mischievous smile gracing my lips. “I want the world to know that you, Calvin Stirling, are my fiancé.” I lean in, capturing his lips in another affectionate kiss, reveling in the sheer bliss of the moment.
A discreet throat-clearing startles me. My gaze shifts, and there stands my dad with an unamused look. I blush. “Hi, Dad,” I greet him, my smile slightly awkward. “Remember Calvin?”
“Yes, hello,” my dad says, shaking Calvin’s hand.
“Ryan,” Calvin says. That’s progress.
“We’re very proud of you,” my grandfather says, hugging me warmly. My grandmother joins in.
“Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I then turn to Abigail, embracing her and kissing her cheek. “Thank you for everything,” I express sincerely.
“Aww, don’t make me cry,” she says, fighting back tears. “I did something right!”
“I love you,” I whisper. My attention shifts to Dylan approaching us. I rush toward him, embracing him tightly. “Thank you for coming,” I express.
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss this. Congratulations!”
When I turn around, I notice both my dad and my fiancé are frowning at Dylan. I guess now they have something to bond over.
We all go to one of the finest restaurants in Paris, a place Calvin had thoughtfully reserved for my graduation dinner. Walking into the usually bustling establishment, now quiet and reserved just for us, feels a bit surreal. I suppose that’s one of the beauties of marrying Calvin.
Speaking of my fiancé, I reach into my small purse and retrieve my ring. A warm, contented feeling washes over me as I delicately slip it onto my finger. I glance at Calvin, who meets my eyes with a smile that speaks volumes.
With the ring now on my finger, I hold onto his hand as I stand up.
“Can I get everyone’s attention, please?” I say, and they all quiet down, turning their gazes toward me. Seated next to my dad, Abigail smiles lovingly at me and nods. “I just want to say thank you all for being here. Every one of you means the world to me, and that’s why I’m excited to tell you… Calvin proposed.” The room is initially quiet, and then everyone cheers and congratulates us! “Also… I’m pregnant.”
Everyone is quiet.
Then my grandmother comes, hugs me, and whispers, “I knew it. I’m very proud of you. You are going to be a great mom.” I can’t help the tears. Everyone comes to me individuallyto say nothing but sweet words. Even my dad tells me how much he loves me and that he will be there for me until his last breath.
Calvin kisses my temple once I sit down. “I love you, fiancée.”
“I love you too, fiancé.”
The moment we arrive in Quebec, it feels like stepping into a storybook. The hotel Meghan and Justin have arranged for everyone is nestled in the heart of Old Quebec, its stone façade kissed by climbing vines, and the view overlooking the Saint Lawrence River is nothing short of breathtaking. It’s clear no expense has been spared.
The Château Frontenac hotel is a masterpiece of opulence. High ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, gleaming marble floors, and grand staircases that curve like something out of a royal palace create an atmosphere of timeless luxury.
As I’m admiring the stunning architecture, I hear a familiar voice calling out, “You guys are finally here!”
I turn to see Meghan, practically glowing, walking toward us with Inès and Camille by her side. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, and the sight of their friendly faces makes me smile instantly.
“Hi!” I exclaim, moving forward to hug Meghan. “Sorry, we’re a little late. Calvin had a last-minute emergency meeting.”
