Forbidden Bride
I look to my left to find the source of the gasp, and my stomach sinks. My parents are dancing barely five feet away, and now they’re both gaping at us. My mom looks stunned with disbelief, and my father looks hurt and confused.
He drops my mother’s hands and storms away towards the lobby. Other people are staring too. I need to go after him, but I need to explain to Mom too. Tristan places his hand on the small of my back. “Go after Bruce. I’ve got Valerie. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Okay.” I don’t hesitate, following my dad at a pace that’s just short of sprinting, trying to ignore the sudden stares of nearly all the party-goers. Including what might as well be a death ray from the woman at the back table.
My father is pacing in the lobby, running a hand through his hair. When he sees me he starts talking. “Are you insane? What are you doing? The man is twenty years older than you.”
“Dad, please listen.”
“Why should I? After you drop this on us like a bomb, I’m not sure I owe you that courtesy.”
I hold out my hands. “That was an accident.”
“You accidentally kissed my best friend in public? At the biggest event of the year?”
It does sound ridiculous. But that doesn’t make it less true. “Believe it or not, yes. Please just give me a couple minutes. After that, you make up your own mind.”
My father’s eyes are burning with anger and emotion, but he stops pacing long enough to look me in the eyes and nod.
“I love Tristan.”
Dad scoffs, but I keep going.
“I’ve loved him for a long time. In fact, it’s the reason he left. On my eighteenth birthday I told him I loved him, and he left. I didn’t know about his father then, but I do now. And he is not his dad. You know that, or you wouldn’t have been his closest friend for your entire life.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” my father says. “Maybe he is like his dad, if he thinks this is okay.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re surprised. And angry. And I get why you feel that way and it’s totally fine that you feel that way. But you know that Tristan is a good man. The reason he left back then was because he wanted to make absolutely sure he didn’t repeat the past. But I’m an adult now, and I choose him. And he chooses me.” I turn my hand so the ring on my finger is visible. “We’re getting married.”
My father’s gaze is suddenly glued to my finger, but he says nothing. He’s in shock. I sense his presence before I see him. Tristan steps up beside me, wisely keeping his hands off me at this moment. Dad locks on him and his gaze begins to boil with anger.
Tristan just says, “Bruce.”
There’s a lot of history in that word. Years of confidences and pleading with him to know that he’s not his father’s son. That this is okay. “I love Nicola.”
The simple way he says the words makes my heart pound, and if that’s all he said then it would be enough for me, but he keeps going. “I loved her before I knew that’s what it was. But I wasn’t going to take any chances. I put time and distance between us so that we would know for sure and so that I wouldn’t repeat my family’s mistakes. But I couldn’t live with myself. I had to come back for her.” He takes a breath. “And if I had come back here and Nicola had told me she wasn’t interested anymore, then I would have accepted it. But…we’re happy.”
My dad turns and looks out the front doors of the hotel, and then back at us. He sighs. “I thought I was crazy.”
“What?” I ask.
“I thought there might be something between you. When he was at the house, when I saw you at the restaurant. Even that first day at the focus group I could feel something between you. And I ignored it because I didn’t think it was possible. But I believe you both. And I’m glad that I’m not crazy.”
Relief pours over me like rain. “Thank you.”
“This doesn’t mean it will be easy for me,” he says, as he pulls me into a hug.
“I know.”
When he pulls back he looks at Tristan, and slowly he extends his hand. They shake, but it ends up being a hug. A longer hug than mine and my dad’s. I like to think that there is some healing in it.
My dad stares at Tristan hard. “You’d better take care of her.”
“I swear on my life.”
Mom appears from the door and pulls me into a hug. “I’m speechless,” she says to me. “I’m happy and confused and all these different things. But you’re happy right?”