Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika 3)

“Tristan, I can’t—”

“It is a technicality.  We can’t conceive, so we will adopt.”

I started sobbing.

“You know, if you get hysterical every time I propose to you, it’s going to start to hurt my feelings.”

I laughed, then sobbed harder.

“Give me my family back.  Marry me.  Be my wife again.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, taking the ring out of the bag and putting it on my finger.

“Yes,” I finally told him, holding on for dear life.

He stroked my hair, his eyes closing, a look of utter peace overtaking his face.

“I missed you so much,” I sobbed, then burrowed into his chest.

“Never again.”

I waited until I was calm.  “I love you,” I said quietly and vehemently.

I heard the smile in his voice.  “Love you more.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

DANIKA

To say that our wedding got the royal treatment was a huge compliment to all things royal.  The moment James got wind that we were even considering using his resort to say our vows, the diamond encrusted red carpet was rolled out, and the rest was sort of history.

The ceremony itself was held in the Cavendish Hotel & Casino’s world-renowned atrium.  The atrium was a huge draw for the casino, so the fact that they roped the entire thing off for three hours just for our vows, was huge.  In fact, I’d never heard of such a thing.  And what was even more extravagant, James had an entirely new all white garden arrangement put together just for us.

I confronted James directly when I heard a rumor about how much the new arrangement had cost.

He’d just smiled charmingly, and diffused the situation with ease.  “We do these floral arrangements all the time, and they’re often expensive.  We won’t take it all down right after the wedding.  We’ll make full use of it.”

I was appeased, because, grand gesture though it was, at least I could be sure it wasn’t wasteful.

I told all of the bridesmaids that I wasn’t wearing a strapless gown when we went shopping for my dress, but by the end of the day I’d found my dream dress, and lo and behold, it was strapless, and it was just perfect.

It was ivory but the fitted, elongated bodice was so heavily beaded and exquisitely embroidered that the top looked silver.  It had a curved neckline that made my curves apparent, but didn’t give too much of a show.  It was undecided what was more of a showstopper, that beaded bodice or the tiered ruffle silk organza skirt with a chapel train.

It was the most elegant of princess gowns, and I adored it.

I’d tried on twenty dresses, and the instant I walked out in that one, everyone agreed that it was the one.

The bridesmaids wore white floor-length lace gowns with pale yellow sashes.

Tristan wore a classic crisp black tux, with a white shirt and tie.  The groomsmen wore the same, but with yellow ties.

Frankie and Estella, arm in arm, were the first of the bridal party to walk down the aisle.

As the maid of honor, Frankie had tried hard to get me a female stripper for the bachelorette party.  She’d only given up on the idea when I’d pointed out that it was clearly a Homer gift.

It hadn’t been a real bachelorette party, anyway.  We’d combined with the guys and James had wound up throwing us a party at his house.  I thought the guys had gotten the better deal, as there were two hot lesbians making out for half of it.

Bianca and James were next.  They didn’t walk arm in arm, but with one of his hands at her hip, the other in the loop in her choker.

Next followed Lana and Akira.  Lana had given birth just five weeks before, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.  She was one of those lucky bitches that bounced back right away.

Even as they walked, I saw them both steal a peek at the row where Tutu sat, holding their new son, Kaiko.  I’d gotten to hold him earlier.  He was calm and already clearly took after his father in looks, except for his blue eyes, though it was too soon to tell if those would change.

Dahlia and Adair were next.  They’d eloped about a year prior, and seemed to be doing well.  Stephan and Javier walked down together.  Todd and Trinity, two of Tristan’s very close support group from rehab, walked next.  Cory walked down alone, since the numbers were uneven, and Kenny paired up with Bev, since Jerry was walking me.

Bev gave Tristan her blessing after one tense lunch at her favorite Italian restaurant.  The mob place.  And while Jerry and me watched as Bev interrogated Tristan for a solid hour, a few tables away from the godfather, I’d of sworn she was the scariest person in the room.

But it had all turned out well, and she hadn’t hesitated to join the wedding party.

It was a very long aisle to walk and a beautiful one.  Big heaping bouquets of every white flower imaginable lined the pathway, dwarfed by colossal white vases filled to brimming with even more painstakingly arranged bouquets.

I clutched Jerry’s arm hard, but that was for emotional support.  I didn’t need to use him as a crutch.  After having partial knee replacement surgery over five months ago, my gait was smoother than it had been since the accident.  I’d never be taking up ballroom again, but I could take a turn or two around the dance floor now, which would surely come in handy later.

It would never be perfect, but it was better and close enough for me.