“It feels like time is too slow, and I just want you to be my husband,” I tell him excitedly.
Aunt Adriana takes me to the back room but asks me to close my eyes. When we enter, she tells me to open them, and hanging from a rack is a stunning ivory laced dress in a mermaid silhouette.
I run my fingers over the delicate lace, admiring the detailing around the neckline, then turning it around to see a low back hem. The design takes my breath away, something I never imagined I would feel over a wedding dress.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I choke, unable to hide my emotion. “It is perfect.”
Aunt Adriana claps her hands. “Well then, hurry up. Let’s get you married!”
The dress, of course, fits perfectly. Ava does my hair and makeup, keeping it minimal. Beside me, Mom sits quietly but never without her adorning smile.
“You’re beautiful,” she tells me softly. “Your father is nervous.”
I take a deep breath, not from nerves but from excitement. An hour ago, I was complaining about Will’s malfunctioning jet and wondering what I should wear to the office on Monday. Now, I’m moments away from getting married.
“Are you nervous?” Ava asks, touching up my cheekbones.
“I’m excited. I just want to marry him.”
Ava leans in with a knowing grin. “It’s the spark. You guys have always had it. Even when you thought you hated each other’s guts.”
There is a gentle tap on
the door as Ava finishes up on my face. I look into the mirror and see my father in the reflection. He is dressed in a tuxedo, despite us getting married in a Vegas chapel. I turn around and stand up, moving closer to him.
His eyes fall upon me with a shallow sigh following. I reach out my hands for his, then squeeze them tight.
“I’ll always be your little girl,” I remind him gently. “That will never change.”
In my entire life, there’s been a few times when my Dad expressed any sentimental emotions. It didn’t mean we didn’t feel loved. He was just always in control and knew what to convey through words rather than expressions.
But standing in front of me, his eyes glass over—a mixture of sadness and honor.
“You look beautiful, Amelia,” he croaks, followed by a smile. “Are you ready?”
“Been waiting a lifetime…”
29
AMELIA
As I walk down the aisle inside this Vegas chapel, my heart beats to a harmonious melody—all my dreams are coming true at this very moment.
It’s almost as if time stands still and no one else matters besides the person standing at the altar beside the minister. There is a euphoric state of mind, every sense is heightened, and nothing in the world will ever compare to the moment when two people officially become one.
With every step I take, my handsome soon-to-be husband is inching closer. Somehow, he is dressed in a tuxedo with his hair perfectly styled. And while his beauty will forever render me speechless, I capture the frame of the smile adorning his face, knowing I’ll never forget how his eyes fell upon me as I walked toward him.
How, in one simple stare, he’s climbed into my soul and made us a home.
We reach the end, where my father gently places a kiss on my cheek. I draw a breath, excited to get through the formalities so I can officially be married.
Our minister, an older man wearing an all-white suit with alligator patterned leather shoes, begins the ceremony while I stand beside Will, desperately trying to keep my hands at bay and not touch him.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join William Rockford Romano and Amelia Grace Edwards in Holy Matrimony.”
I stand still, a smile fixed on my face while I try to focus on the minister.