Bittersweet (The Calvettis of New York 4) - Page 3

“Burial?”

“The expression on your face is the same as it was the day we went to Mrs. Rockenstan’s funeral.”

Mrs. Rockenstan was our third-grade teacher. When she died during our first year of high school, we went to her funeral service hand-in-hand. It was my first experience with death, so I was understandably devastated.

I plaster a fake smile on my face. “I’m happy. See?”

Joel shakes his head. “You look like a seal. Never smile that way again.”

I can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of me.

“What’s so funny over there?” My mom asks from where she’s standing. “You two aren’t planning any trouble, are you?”

“That depends on Afton.” Joel’s hand dives into the front pocket of his pants. The distinct sound of his keys jingling cuts through the silence in the room.

It’s my best friend’s way of reminding me that he’s always got an escape route if I need it. Joel has driven me away from a few moments in my life I’d rather forget.

“It’s time to get married.” My mom scoops up my bouquet from the table. “There’s an Uber outside waiting to take us to the church.”

Joel slides his hand into mine. “I’m right beside you every step of the way.”

I’m only a few minutes away from walking down the aisle on the arm of my dad, and all signs are pointing at me to do it.

I squeeze Joel’s hand and follow him out the door toward my destiny as Warren Rotham’s wife.

Chapter 2

Afton

“If you’re going to send me a sign, now is the time,” I whisper as I gaze up at the ornate ceiling of the church.

“Did you say something, Afton?”

I glance over at my dad. He’s the definition of pride and joy at the moment. Today he’s walking me down the aisle toward my future husband. He did the same thing when Nelson got married.

The tuxedo he’s wearing was custom-made just for him. He had it tailored to perfection a decade ago. He pulls it out of his closet whenever the occasion calls for it.

The single purple rose that’s pinned to his lapel is the perfect complement to it today.

“Do you remember the day you married mom?” I twirl my bouquet in my hands while we wait for our cue from the wedding planner.

Nelson and Joel are standing near the front entrance of the church. My dad requested a few minutes alone with me, although he hasn’t used that time to offer any words of wisdom.

“The best day of my life?” He cracks a crooked smile. “You better believe I do.”

“Tell me about it,” I say, even though I’ve heard the story countless times.

Every summer, my parents hold a lavish dinner party at their penthouse on the Upper West Side to celebrate their anniversary. There are always too many flowers, more food than the guests can eat, and a slideshow of their wedding pictures.

It’s an evening to remember for my family.

“Your mother looked like a princess in her wedding gown.” He glances down at my dress. “I’ll never forget how the vision of her at the end of the aisle took my breath away. She still does.”

I’ve always longed for a love like that.

I grew up in a home with parents who weren’t shy about showing affection for one another.

They’d hold hands at the dinner table and kiss each other goodbye whenever one of them went to work or bed before the other.

Love was a staple of my childhood.

“Warren will have the same reaction when he sees you.” My dad taps his finger on my chin. “When did you grow up?”

“I’m twenty-six, dad.” I laugh. “I grew up years ago.”

“It felt like the blink of an eye to me.” He rubs his hand over his forehead. “You’re marrying the man you love, and before we know it, you’ll be a mom.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m not ready for kids.”

He cocks both brows. “Warren is.”

It’s not news to me. Warren is two years older than me, and he’s panicked that his biological clock is running out of time.

His parents had their family complete by the time they were twenty-five.

I need at least a year or two of wedded bliss before I’ll even consider adding a baby to the mix.

“Warren and I talked about it.” I adjust the lapels of my dad’s jacket. “We’re going to sit down on our first anniversary and discuss when to start trying.”

“I like that plan.” He reaches for my hand. “Always work together, and your marriage will be a happy one.”

I glance at the gold watch on his wrist. It was a birthday gift from Nelson, Joel, and me last year. He wears it without fail every single day.

His gaze follows mine. “It’s almost time, Afton.”

I suck in a deep breath. “I think I’m ready.”

“You’re ready,” he reassures me with a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to check on Warren. When I get back, we’ll get you married.”

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Calvettis of New York Romance
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