Chapter 13 - The Blackwell WeddingKate refused three things.
A cathedral.
Five hundred guests.
And a wedding planner who referred to napkins as “textile experiences.”
Damon agreed to the first two.
The third required intervention from Eleanor.
“She’s the best.”
“She terrifies me.”
“So does Damon.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Kate had no answer.
They married in the Blackwell gardens in late spring.
Eighty-four guests.
Daisies everywhere.
Margaret’s favorite flowers.
Amelia came.
Lena came with her daughter.
Elias stood beside Matteo.
Mrs. Ortega cried before Kate even put on the dress.
Eleanor wore silver and claimed she was not emotional while carrying three handkerchiefs.
Kate stood upstairs looking into the mirror.
For years, mirrors had been functional.
Check uniform.
Check hair.
Disappear.
Today she looked at herself.
Really looked.
She was not invisible.
Not useful.
Not forgettable.
Just Kate.
Someone knocked.
Three taps.
Pause.
Two taps.
She froze.
The old security signal from the night Damon found her.
The door opened.
Damon stood outside.
Kate laughed.
“You’re not supposed to see me.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
He looked pale.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
She stared.
“Damon Blackwell, are you nervous?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I wanted to check.”
“Check what?”
“That you’re still here.”
The humor faded.
Kate understood.
Everyone Damon loved had once disappeared.
His mother.
Later Margaret.
Part of him still expected happiness to vanish when he looked away.
Kate walked to him.
“I’m here.”
He nodded.
“You’re not allowed inside.”
“I know.”
“Go downstairs.”
“Yes.”
He did not move.
Kate smiled.
“Damon.”
“Right.”
He left.
At four o’clock, Kate walked through the garden with Eleanor beside her.
“Your mother should be doing this,” Eleanor said.
Kate squeezed her arm.
“She would have chosen you.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“Damn girl.”
Kate laughed.
Damon waited beneath an arch of daisies.
For once, he looked completely unguarded.
The ceremony lasted eighteen minutes.
Matteo cried.
He denied it afterward.
During the vows, Damon said, “I spent most of my life believing protection meant standing between people I loved and the world.”
He looked at Kate.
“You taught me sometimes love means standing beside them while they face it themselves.”
Kate nearly forgot her own vows.
When her turn came, she took his hands.
“My mother taught me to survive by being useful and forgettable.”
Her voice trembled.
“You were the first person who looked at me when I was trying hardest not to be seen.”
Damon’s eyes closed briefly.
“You did not save me, because I was never something that needed saving.”
She smiled.
“But you gave me space to remember I could save myself.”
They kissed.
Matteo applauded too early.
Eleanor hit him with a fan.
Dinner lasted until midnight.
At one point, Kate stood alone near the terrace.
She looked through the windows into the estate.
Years earlier, somewhere upstairs, a frightened maid had hidden with a broken arm.
Kate could almost see her.
She wished she could go back.
Not to prevent it.
That surprised her.
She wished she could kneel beside that woman in the storage room.
Tell her what came next.
Not that everything would become perfect.
It wouldn’t.
There would be trials.
Grief.
Fear.
Mistakes.
But there would also be mornings in the kitchen.
Foundation meetings.
Her mother laughing with Eleanor.
Snowy drives.
Bad dates interrupted by Matteo.
A house key.
A garden of daisies.
Love.
Damon approached behind her.
“You disappeared.”
Kate turned.
“I was thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
She smiled.
“Do you know what’s strange?”
“Many things.”
“That night, when you asked who hurt me…”
“Yes?”
“I thought you were the most frightening person I had ever met.”
“And now?”
She looked at him.
“Now you’re maybe fourth.”
He frowned.
“Who are the first three?”
“Eleanor.”
“Fair.”
“Mrs. Ortega when someone insults her cooking.”
“Fair.”
“The wedding planner.”
Damon nodded.
“Absolutely.”
Kate laughed.
He pulled her closer.
“What were you actually thinking?”
She looked toward the third-floor windows.
“That I spent my whole life trying not to be remembered.”
Damon followed her gaze.
“And?”
May you like
Kate touched his face.
“I think I’m done.”
