It took all I had not to join them.
She scanned the crown, her lips fighting the losing battle to remain pinched closed. When her eyes finally locked with mine, she lost, and the smile I’d fallen more in love with each day over the last four years shined through.
I love you, she mouthed.
My chest puffed up that this beautiful, brilliant woman loved me—chose me every day—even when it was hard.
We’d hit our ups and downs, especially when Harry found out about us—in the worst way possible. With my hand shoved down her bikini bottoms in their pool house the summer after her freshman year. We’d planned to tell him…just not like that.
My jaw still hurt from the punch he landed.
When he’d kicked me out, Arabella had followed and stood by my side every second of the three months he refused to talk to me, reminding me of her love at every doubt and turn.
We’d made it through every semester abroad she did.
We made it through the semester she decided to give the dorms a try.
We made it through every handsy guy I wanted to pummel at the bar. Thankfully, she finally quit yesterday.
We made it through the explaining of our relationship to the Dean of Economics when Arabella ended up having to take some economics courses.
We stood by each other as she grew into the woman I loved. I never wanted to hold her back from the growth she embraced with both arms. When we started all this, she was nineteen, determined and stubborn to make her way even if it meant barreling headfirst through cement.
At the end of the ceremony, the woman walking toward me learned that maybe using the door could get her to the other side with much less struggle and damage. Although, she tended to kick the door down each time, and I loved it.
“Dr. Deander,” she greeted. “Or Uncle Will?” she asked in a breathy voice.
I scowled.
She laughed.
“Fine, Dr. Uncle Will.”
“I swear to god,” I grumbled. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of quite a few things. Wanna find a closet and try them out?” She nodded her head to the side, biting into her plump lip and sliding her arms around my shoulders.
“I’m going to need more room than a closet for all I want to do with you,” I promised.
She stepped indecently close, pressing her groin to mine. Thank god for this oversized graduation robe to hide the effect she had on me.
“Will you keep the hat? It’s so kinky.”
I snorted, tugging the fluffy velvet cap off my head. Her long fingers dove into the messy strands and attempted to tame them, really only serving to turn me on more.
“Arabella,” Arabella’s mom greeted. She came toward us with her arms out, and Bella abandoned my arms for her mothers.
Not that I minded—much. I liked watching Arabella hug her mom. Another thing that’d come a long way over the years. Diana had come around a lot quicker than Harry, and I think Arabella just wanted an ally. In that time, they talked, bridging the gap of misunderstanding between them. Now, every time they were together, Arabella was treated to the mom-hugs that had started that conversation all those years ago.
Every now and then, Diana would treat me to one too—even if she was only a decade older, it’s like a flip switched when you had a kid, and your hugs carried a whole new meaning. I loved it.
“Willem,” Harry greeted much more stoically than his wife.
“Harry.”
We nodded, not quite where we used to be, but getting there. When his silence carried on too long and began digging at Arabella, I took an overnight trip to Colorado and faced him. Letting him know how much I loved his daughter, and despite the numerous issues on paper, none of them mattered because this was forever.
I’d demanded he, at the very least, stop punishing Arabella.
Since then, we’d inched our way back to normal—it just took him a couple of hours to relax. Also, a few beers never hurt either.
“Look at you,” Diana gushed, looking Arabella up and down.
“You just saw me and took pictures already.”
“I know, but now you’re a graduate—all grown up.”
“I’ve also been all over the world—by myself in a lot of places. I think that qualifies me as an adult more than a piece of paper.”
“I know. Just humor me, okay?” her mom said, wearing that mom-look that said, cut me some slack.
Arabella sighed with an exaggerated eye-roll. “Fine.”
“So much attitude. I wonder who you could have gotten so much snark from,” her mom wondered aloud even though we all knew.
Harry held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.”
We laughed, and more pictures were taken before we finally made our way to a local restaurant for dinner.
Harry loosened up a few drinks in, as predicted, and by the end of the night, we were all laughing, walking out to wait for our Uber.