It was freeing and exhilarating, and we were so caught up in each other, nothing else mattered.
In one way, nothing changed for me. But Paris gave Scott room to breathe – room to be creative. As if he found the man he knew he really was. Especially as he seemed to have found his muse. I tried to explain it to Landon. First in letters, and then in our conversations back then. He always wanted to ensure my happiness. And, as far as I’m concerned, I couldn’t have been happier then, and I'm still happy now.
Even after Daddy.
Even after we found out everything.
I was sure Scott would self-destruct when Neve gave us the backstory to our families like he always has in the past when it concerns anything related to the Brodericks. And I needed time to process the ramifications of the information we were hit with. Finding out you’re related to the man you love – regardless of how distantly – is a big pill to swallow.
I might have walked out of that room at Tallington looking okay, but on the inside, I was crumbling. That simple fact – being related and having the same great-great-grandfather conjured a barrier around my heart that I wasn’t convinced even Scott could knock down.
But he did.
Landon offers his arm, and I thread mine through his. The importance of that simple action hits me with a jolt of grief, but just like he’s always been, Landon’s there for me. He’s there for all of us. It just might take a minute for us to realise his good intentions underneath his temper and controlling nature.
The doors to the ceremony room open, and the music starts up. It’s a big affair, but I don’t have eyes for anyone but the man standing at the end of the aisle, waiting to become my husband.
His love, his surety that I’m the one for him, has helped me to understand that our family tree is just another part of our journey together. That it has no business defining our relationship because we fell in love when our families were enemies. I left my family – I chose him over them – and so if I can make it through all of those obstacles, a small spec of DNA shouldn’t mean anything.
I keep my eyes fixated on Scott and let Landon lead.
In a matter of minutes, I’ll be married.
~
“We survived.”
“Don’t call it a win just yet. This is the easy bit,” he whispers in my ear.
I smile at my husband as he walks me, hand in hand, back down the aisle. It's flanked by hundreds of guests – half of whom I don’t know. I don’t care, though. Mother needed this. The wedding of her baby girl to plan and take over. She’s struggled these last few months, and I wasn’t about to become a bridezilla over a few guestlist details. Or flowers, centrepieces, or catering arrangements. Most of which I think Willow organised under Mother's instruction.
As Scott told me, the ‘I dos’ are the easy and most important part. I can live with what comes with the rest.
We eventually file out from the ceremony room of the Château Vaux-le-Vicomte and are ushered onto the grounds. Cherry blossom trees border one of the garden areas creating our own confetti in the spring breeze. It's the prettiest thing I think I've ever seen, and I'm more than happy to take the glasses of champagne that are thrust into our hands as we wait outside.
“Congratulations, Mrs Foxton.” Scott raises his glass to mine. We clink, and I take a sip of my favourite drink.
“Broderick-Foxton,” I correct. Although, I doubt Scott will ever acknowledge that part of my name.
Even though we’ve both worked to deal with the past, it’s still tough some days. Knowing that he's hated my family simply for who they were has become a long-standing feeling that’s hard to forget sometimes. It’s easier now, though. Landon seems to have helped with that.
“As long as my name's at the end of yours, I'm happy,” he murmurs. “You’re lucky I love you so fucking much.”
“Yes, I am.” The smile on my face isn’t a conscious decision – it’s there because I can’t contain the joy and love I feel in every fibre of my being. Every part of me, mind, body, and soul, is in love with Scott Foxton, and I can’t imagine what my life might be like without him in it.
He leans down and kisses my lips, setting my nerves on fire and my heart racing.
“Can I interrupt?” Landon joins us with Willow on his arm.
“If I said no, would it stop you?” Scott smirks.
“No. Congratulations, Persephone.” He leans towards me and kisses my cheek.
“Thank you.” My eyes mist, more emotion taking over, as I realise how important Landon’s approval is, even after everything. Considering the tyrant he was in the beginning, we’ve come a long way.
He looks around as the crowd of guests join us out in the garden, their hats and fascinators creating a montage of colour and texture that would rival Royal Ascot races.
“Are you sure we can’t tempt you back to England?” he asks.
