Chapter 9 - The WeddingI woke on my wedding day at 4:38 a.m.
Not because I had planned to.
Because apparently my nervous system had decided sleep was no longer necessary.
I stared at the ceiling of Jade’s apartment while she snored peacefully from the guest room.
My wedding dress hung inside a garment bag near the window.
For several minutes, I simply looked at it.
This was happening.
Today.
I was going to marry Elliot Hawkins.
The same Elliot Hawkins whose face I had once kissed on a Forbes poster while accusing him of never noticing me.
Life had a truly disturbing sense of humor.
At 4:51, my phone lit up.
A message.
Elliot: Awake?
I smiled.
Me: No.
Three dots appeared immediately.
Elliot: Interesting. Your unconscious body types very well.
Me: Years of executive-assistant training.
Elliot: Nervous?
I hesitated.
Me: Extremely.
His response came quickly.
Elliot: Me too.
That made me sit up.
Elliot admitted nervousness about almost nothing.
Me: You?
Elliot: I’m marrying the woman who once threatened to quit because I saw her kissing office décor. There are significant risks.
Me: I can still cancel.
Three dots.
They disappeared.
Returned.
Elliot: Don’t joke about that today.
Something in those words softened me immediately.
Me: I’m not going anywhere.
Pause.
Elliot: Good.
Then another message.
Elliot: I love you.
My eyes burned.
Me: I love you too.
At 7:00, Jade woke up.
At 7:03, she entered crisis-management mode.
Hair.
Makeup.
Breakfast.
Emergency sewing kit.
Emergency makeup kit.
Emergency snacks.
Emergency tissues.
Apparently weddings required survival equipment.
My mother arrived at 8:00.
The moment she saw me in the dress, she cried.
Which made me cry.
Which made Jade shout that we were destroying three hundred dollars of professional makeup.
The dress was simple compared to the elaborate designer gowns Victoria had originally selected.
Silk.
Clean lines.
Fitted waist.
Soft neckline.
No enormous train.
No thousands of crystals.
It felt like me.
When Victoria arrived at 9:30, she entered wearing pale silver and stopped in the doorway.
For one terrifying second, she said nothing.
Then:
“Perfect.”
That one word meant more than an entire speech.
“You like it?”
“It doesn’t need anything else.”
From Victoria Hawkins, that was practically poetry.
She walked closer and opened a small box.
Inside was a pair of pearl earrings.
“Elliot’s grandmother wore these.”
I looked at her.
“I thought we agreed no overwhelming family traditions.”
“We did.”
Her voice softened.
“This isn’t tradition. It’s a gift. Only if you want them.”
The distinction mattered.
I smiled.
“I do.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she helped me put them on.
Then she met my eyes in the mirror.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving my son better than I taught him to expect.”
The words broke something open inside me.
I turned and hugged her.
Victoria froze.
Literally froze.
Then slowly, almost awkwardly, her arms came around me.
Jade saw us and began crying.
“Stop,” I warned.
“I can’t.”
“My makeup.”
“I know.”
At 11:15, we left for the office.
My mother and I rode together.
The streets of Manhattan looked completely normal.
People walked dogs.
Taxis honked.
Tourists photographed buildings.
No one knew that several floors above one ordinary street, a billionaire CEO and his former assistant were about to get married beside a magazine poster.
Perfect.
Security took us through a private entrance.
Celeste had transformed reception.
Not extravagantly.
Beautifully.
White flowers lined the hallway.
Small arrangements of greenery and candles surrounded the seating area.
The city skyline formed the background through the glass walls.
Thirty-two chairs faced the spot where the Forbes poster normally hung.
Except Celeste had covered it with a white curtain.
“Why is the poster covered?” I whispered.
Jade grinned.
“Elliot requested it.”
“Why?”
“No idea.”
Suspicious.
Music began.
My mother took my arm.
“You ready?”
I looked at her.
She had raised me after Dad died.
Supported me through college.
Celebrated every promotion.
Listened patiently while I complained about my impossible boss for a full year without realizing I was half in love with him.
“Yes.”
We walked.
The moment I saw Elliot, everything else disappeared.
He stood at the front in a black tuxedo.
Marcus beside him.
His expression changed when he saw me.
Exactly like the first gala.
That same stillness.
That same almost-disbelieving look.
Except this time there was no pretending.
No fake date.
No professional excuse.
His eyes filled with tears.
Elliot Hawkins.
Crying.
I nearly lost it immediately.
My mother squeezed my arm.
“Breathe.”
I laughed softly through tears.
When we reached him, Mom kissed my cheek and placed my hand in his.
Elliot’s fingers closed around mine.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“Presentable?”
His mouth twitched.
“Exceptionally.”
The officiant began.
I heard perhaps forty percent of it.
The rest was drowned out by the feeling of Elliot’s hand holding mine.
Eventually, it was time for vows.
Elliot went first.
Of course he had written his.
Of course they were perfect.
He took both my hands.
“Alexia, before you, I believed competence was enough.”
His voice was steady, but his eyes were not.
“I believed if I worked harder than everyone else, built more, achieved more, controlled every variable, I could create a life where I never needed anything I couldn’t provide for myself.”
My throat tightened.
“Then you walked into my office and spent a year proving you were more competent than half the people I paid twice as much.”
A few guests laughed.
“I noticed your work before I noticed you, and that is something I will regret forever.”
I shook my head, already crying.
“But when I finally saw you, I couldn’t stop.”
His thumbs brushed my fingers.
“You challenged me. You argued with me. You refused to be impressed by the things everyone else found impressive.”
Marcus coughed.
“Frequently.”
More laughter.
Elliot ignored him.
“You made my home feel like a home. You made my mother laugh again. You taught me that love isn’t losing control. It’s trusting someone enough that control stops mattering.”
That destroyed me.
“I promise to respect your ambition as fiercely as I respect my own. I promise never to make your world smaller so mine can feel bigger.”
Victoria wiped tears from her face.
“And I promise to remind you, for the rest of our lives, that you kissed my poster for five full seconds.”
Everyone laughed.
I closed my eyes.
“You ruined it.”
“It was important.”
The officiant was laughing too.
Then it was my turn.
I took a breath.
“Elliot.”
My voice trembled.
“A year before our first kiss, I thought I knew exactly who you were.”
He smiled.
“Arrogant.”
“Accurate.”
More laughter.
“I thought you were impossible, emotionally unavailable, sarcastic, demanding, and somehow personally offended by coffee that was one degree too cold.”
“All true.”
“Quiet.”
He closed his mouth obediently.
“I thought you never saw me.”
That changed his expression.
“And honestly, for a while, you didn’t.”
“I know.”
“But I also didn’t really see you.”
I swallowed.
“I saw the CEO. The magazine covers. The perfect suits. The man who seemed to have everything under control.”
His eyes held mine.
“I didn’t see the lonely boy who learned too early not to need anyone. I didn’t see the man who was terrified that love would become another transaction.”
The room had gone completely silent.
“When we finally saw each other, everything changed.”
I smiled through tears.
“You are still impossible.”
“Thank you.”
“You are still sarcastic.”
“I try.”
“And your coffee standards remain abusive.”
“Objectively incorrect.”
“But you are also the safest person I know.”
His eyes filled again.
“You never asked me to become smaller for you. When I was afraid your name would erase mine, you stepped back and let me prove myself. When I needed independence, you gave me space. When I needed you, you stayed.”
My voice broke.
“I promise to stay too.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“I promise to tell you when you’re being an idiot.”
“Frequently, apparently.”
“I promise to keep challenging you.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“And I promise that if I ever kiss another poster with your face on it—”
His eyebrows rose.
“Alexia.”
“—it will be strictly nostalgic.”
The room erupted in laughter.
Even the officiant had to pause.
Then we exchanged rings.
Simple bands.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing needed to be.
When the officiant finally said, “You may kiss your wife,” Elliot looked at me.
Wife.
The word hit differently.
His hand came to my face.
“You sure?”
I smiled.
“Five seconds minimum.”
He laughed against my mouth before kissing me.
Everyone applauded.
Marcus whistled.
Jade cried loudly.
My mother laughed.
Victoria actually clapped above her head like a completely normal person, which might have been the most shocking event of the day.
When we separated, Elliot rested his forehead against mine.
“Mrs. Hawkins?”
“Don’t get comfortable.”
He smiled.
“Ms. Summers?”
“Better.”
Then the curtain behind us suddenly dropped.
I turned.
The Forbes poster had been replaced.
For one horrifying moment, I thought Elliot had destroyed it.
Then I saw what was actually there.
A framed photograph.
Two magazine covers side by side.
His original Forbes cover.
My acquisition cover.
Between them was a small brass plaque.
IT STARTED HERE.
I covered my mouth.
“Elliot.”
He looked almost shy.
“You like it?”
“Where’s the original poster?”
“Archived.”
“You archived the poster?”
“It’s historically significant.”
I laughed so hard I started crying again.
Our reception was held one floor above.
No journalists.
No socialites we barely knew.
No political networking.
Just family and friends.
Pizza appeared at midnight because the carefully planned catering had somehow not been enough after hours of dancing.
Marcus gave a speech revealing several deeply embarrassing stories about Elliot.
Jade gave a speech revealing several deeply embarrassing stories about me.
Including, naturally, the first time I told her about the poster.
“You promised not to tell anyone!”
“I promised nothing.”
Elliot looked delighted.
My mother danced with him.
Victoria danced with Marcus.
At one point I stood alone near the windows, looking at the city.
Elliot came up behind me.
“Escaping?”
“For thirty seconds.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Tired?”
“Completely.”
“Regret the office wedding?”
“Not for a second.”
He kissed my temple.
“Neither do I.”
We stood in silence.
Below us, Manhattan moved endlessly.
Above us, people we loved laughed and danced.
And I thought about the strange path that had brought me here.
From invisible assistant.
To furious woman talking to a poster.
To fake date.
To girlfriend.
To executive.
To fiancée.
To wife.
“Elliot?”
“Yes?”
“Do you realize tomorrow everyone in the office is going to know we got married here?”
“Yes.”
“This will become company legend.”
“It already is.”
“What?”
He hesitated.
“Marcus may have started telling new employees the poster story during orientation.”
I spun around.
“He WHAT?”
Elliot started laughing.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Technically homicide violates HR policy.”
“I’ll accept disciplinary action.”
He kissed me again before I could continue threatening his best friend.
And for the first time in my life, I understood that happily ever after was not a destination.
It was this.
Laughing.
Arguing.
Growing.
Choosing each other again after every difficult conversation.
It was imperfect.
Complicated.
May you like
Occasionally humiliating.
And completely ours.
