“I’m not in love.”
He laughs, like a huge guffaw, a belly laugh that makes me want to kick him in the dick. “Oh wow, okay, sorry, that was a good joke.” He slaps me on the cheek lightly. “You know you could always seduce her.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s against my moral compass.”
He recoils, shooting me an amazed gaze. “You have one of those? What’s it feel like? I’ve always wondered.”
I laugh despite the stress of the situation. “Wow, Dad of the Year, huh?”
“The best.” He winks. “And for what it’s worth, King. You’re going to do great. And nothing, and I do mean nothing works better than treating her like the queen she is. There’s nothing morally wrong about that.”
I perk up a bit. “You’re right.”
“I’m literally always right. It’s almost scary.” He turns around, then back, and snaps his fingers. “Oh, and at the end of the day, a bagel never hurts.”
“Huh?” I ask.
He bursts out laughing and mutters. “Ah, youths…”
“Youths?” I repeat.
He checks his Rolex. “Time to get married.”
“Wait, rewind, what’s this about bagels?” I ask as he ushers me out of the bathroom, still laughing. His wife Luc intercepts us in the hallway.
Luc takes one look at us, and her eyes narrow. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, making her appear more severe as she glances between us. “You’re late. Both of you.”
Chase holds up his hands and grins. “Sorry, we were talking about food.”
“Food?” she asks, a frown creasing her forehead. “Wait, is he hungry? Are you hungry?” She would live her life feeding people if she could. “Because I can run to the church kitchen and—”
Chase kisses the next few words away from her mouth. “Nah, just talking about bagels.”
She gasps, her face flashes red. “Wh-what? for?”
“No reason.” He kisses her again. “Let’s go, King, time to get married.”
My stomach knots up again. I’m also confused because… bagels? What the hell? I make a mental note to ask everyone once I’m back from my honeymoon, completely confused why that word would make her blush and a bit horrified that they have an inside joke about bread as I follow them.
I haven’t seen her yet, Del.
My dad’s waiting by the door to the church, wearing a smile on his face that shows me he knows why I feel nervous and that it’s okay.
The girls, my cousins—friends are all dressed in their beautiful white bridesmaid dresses. Each of them picked something in a different style but the same color. All of them look gorgeous, and I’ve yet to get to the main event.
Del.
I have to tell myself again that this isn’t real, that all of this is a perfectly placed political move in order to keep everyone safe, finally end a stupid war, and align the Families.
But as the music hits a crescendo and as the doors open for my dad and me to walk in, all I keep thinking is.
Her.
Mine.
Marriage.
Forever.
I adjust my tie as my dad pounds my back a few times in a total bro way that guys do when they’re uncomfortable or about ready to cry.
I smile and walk down the aisle as people hold up their phones. Cameras flash. Music continues to reach the tops of the Catholic Church.
We’re going to make it work.
We have no other choice.
Roman is at the end of the aisle sitting in the front pew, his earpiece in, playing the part of bodyguard, and I imagine a world where he’s not going to turn around the minute Del comes down the aisle and look at her in such a way that she doesn’t look at me.
I burn. I fucking burn—my hands, my feet, my body. Jealousy takes over so fierce that I have to clench my fists the entire twenty-six steps I take to the altar. I think I would rather be shot than watch Roman turn in his seat.
The music changes swiftly.
I feel sick to my stomach.
Everyone stands.
I will love you anyway. I repeat it over and over again. I want to make it better, but I can’t. You can’t control a bullet that’s already hit the heart. If she knew, if she truly knew, she’d feel bad, and her look would be pity instead of pleasure.
My future officially fades into nothingness as the doors open, and all I see is her.
I try to keep my composure—it’s my job, after all.
She’s so fucking pretty it makes my chest hurt. Her dress has the longest train I’ve ever seen, with pretty lace dancing along the edges. It matches the sleeves that go down to her wrists and the open neck that shows just enough cleavage that I’m not sure if I should look away or just drink her in.
I blink.
And then I realize she’s wearing a crown and not just any crown, but one from her family, one her mom wore when she married her dad. The importance isn’t just significant in aligning the Families; it was the only thing her mom left to her. When her mom died, Del used to sleep with it under her pillow to feel close to her.