The last few months were crazy enough as it was, what with two book releases six months apart and a movie premiere. There’s talk of turning one of my earlier books into a limited-series TV show.
And after my daughter and Zara were kidnapped, there were no more issues with stalkers or overzealous fans sending me unwanted letters. The FBI tracked down and arrested the person who had sent me the previous messages.
Our lives have been relatively peaceful.
Peony whispers to Zoe, who’s standing next to her. The pair giggle at whatever Peony said, and Lucas has to press his finger to his lips, a smile sneaking behind it, to remind them not to get too silly. For now.
They grab hold of each other’s hands. I can only imagine what kind of trouble the two best friends will get into together as they get older. The idea of that makes me smile.
Next up are the two maids of honor in light-green, knee-length dresses. They walk down the aisle and take their position on either side of the ordained minister.
The music switches to the “Wedding March,” and everyone seated under the white canopy stands.
Lauren walks down the aisle first, her father by her side. She’s wearing an off-white silk jumpsuit, her black hair twisted up in a French knot, and she’s carrying a bouquet of pink roses.
Her father kisses her cheek and walks to where her mother is sitting, smiling and dabbing her wet cheeks with a handkerchief.
Lauren stands next to her maid of honor, her eager gaze fixed in the direction she just came from.
And then Athena walks down the aisle in a sleeveless white gown that is as simple as it is pretty. She’s beautiful, but nowhere near as gorgeous as Zara was on our wedding day.
No one is as gorgeous as the mother of my children—my best friend, my lover, my wife.
Lauren’s cousin is by Athena’s side. Charles beams proudly at the woman who is not only Peony’s and Kenan’s nanny, but who is also a children’s book author. Her debut picture book, which she wrote and illustrated, released last week to great fanfare.
Athena and Charles stop at the altar, and he kisses her on the cheek. He gives his cousin a hug and a kiss and joins his husband sitting at the end of the front row.
All this love has me thinking of Zara and of our wedding. I loop my free arm around her waist and pull her to me, marveling at her strength, her passion, her drive, and her love. Her love for me, for our children, for her friends and family, for the community. Despite the chronic pain that is part of her everyday reality, she still shines bright like a star.
“In case I haven’t told you lately,” I murmur against her ear, “I love you.”
Her soft laugh vibrates through my chest from where her body touches mine. “You did mention that this morning. After you made me come.” Her whispered words are for my ears only.
Once the vows are exchanged, the wedding photos taken, and the happy couple have danced their first dance together, I take Zara in my arms, and we sway to Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect.”
Peony and Zoe are also dancing, but they’re moving to a much faster beat, heard only intheirheads, which makes me chuckle.
Kenan is asleep in his infant car seat, his two grandmothers keeping an eye on him at their table while Zara and I dance.
I trace my thumb over the scars peeking from under the thin strap of Zara’s dress. A delicate tattoo of pink carnations weaves and twistsaround the thick scars—the beautiful artwork a permanent memorial to Kenda and Emily.
And a reminder of how close I came to losing my daughter and the woman I love.
When Zara walked with me on the red carpet four months ago for the movie premiere ofUntold Mercy, people knew she was the woman who had been kidnapped with my daughter. There was no way she could avoid them knowing. She had testified in court two months before that.
But none of those things are what the reporters asked us about.
They focused on how she was the muse for my hero’s love interest, and on how she is best known for the work she’s doing to bring awareness to spondyloarthritis, especially in women.
“In case I haven’t toldyoulately,” Zara says, “I love you too.”
I brush a soft kiss on her lips, branding her with my love.
Branding her with our forever.
Forty minutes later, I wrap my arms around Zara from behind. “How much longer before I get to make love to my wife?” I murmur in her ear.
Zara nods at Peony and Kenan, who are enjoying their grandmothers’ attention. “As soon as we get them settled in bed…you’re mine.” The smoky promise of her voice goes straight to my cock, and I almost groan in response. She lightly strokes her thumb along my wrist.
