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Spencer.

The dress I’m wearing is a vivid red, just like the one I saw in the photo all of those years ago. Spencer did a little research and went in search of the designer, who created the wedding gown worn by Paula Yates when she married Bob Geldof. The wedding took place back in the mid-eighties, but the gown is so very timeless.

Jasper Conran designed the gown to look very similar to what Paula wore on her wedding day, who has since passed. She was blonde and wild, and tragically, a drug addict. We are alike in so many ways, and I’m just thankful I realized I couldn’t fall down a destructive path with the help of my therapist, who I still see to this day. Spencer helped too, as did the rest of my family.

I’m lucky I have them all. They saved me, though Spencer always reminds me I saved myself too. I’m stronger than I think.

Finally, I believe him. He says I don’t give myself enough credit, and he’s right.

So here I am, giving myself a little credit.

Enough time has passed after my mother’s accident that I’ve come to a realization. She controlled every little part of me for so long, I felt lost without her. She was so intricately woven into my life, it was scary not to have her around. When she died, I firmly believed I would miss her terribly. I knew I was free, but I was also terrified to live in a world without her.

The cliché ‘can’t live with her, can’t live without her’ was never more accurate.

I’m confident now that I can stand on my own two feet. That I don’t miss her. Our relationship was fraught with tension, fear and abuse. What she did to me is unforgivable. Needing her was codependent behavior that she encouraged.

She was a monster, and I’m glad she’s gone.

There’s a knock on the door, and before I can answer, Carolina enters the room, gorgeous in a cream-colored beaded gown. She stops when she sees me sitting at the vanity, her hand coming up to cover her mouth for a moment as she takes me in.

“You’re stunning,” she finally says when she drops her hand.

I turn to face her, still sitting on the velvet-tufted bench, a serene smile on my face. I can feel it, the peacefulness that flows through my body. I’m content. It feels so right, to marry Spencer. Like I’ve been planning this moment my entire life.

“Thank you,” I tell her, glad that I kept the wedding gown a surprise until this very moment. I didn’t want anyone to see it. Once Spencer found the designer, he let me take over completely, and when I asked for his input, he told me he wanted to be surprised on our wedding day.

This project has been completely my own, something I’ve been working on for almost a year, and included me flying to London twice for fittings, taking Monty and Cliff with me the second time. They’re the only ones who saw the gown, but not the finished product.

“You would have us wearing actual wedding gowns and you’re wearing something like that.” She waves a hand at me, her bright red lips curved into a fond smile.

She’s teasing me, and it’s nice. Our relationship has shifted over the last year and I’m so grateful to have her more present in my life. Mother drove everyone, even my family, away from me because she wanted me all to herself.

That hurts, more than I care to admit.

“I like to do things a little differently,” I tease. “You know this.”

“Very true.”

The gown she’s wearing has a heavily-beaded bodice and a flowing tulle skirt. She’s correct in calling it a wedding gown, for that’s exactly what it is. Summer is wearing a matching one, and Monty and Cliff are in full-blown morning suits like the rest of the men in the wedding party. They’re all wearing a black tailcoat, black and gray striped pants, a silvery gray vest and matching tie. Monty and Cliff even chose to wear top hats.

Spencer, Whit and his friends are most decidedly not wearing top hats.

“I feel ridiculous in it,” Spencer told me last night at the rehearsal dinner. “And I don’t want to look at photos from our wedding years from now and remember how ridiculous I felt.”

I kissed him because I liked the idea of us looking at photos of our wedding years from now. Possibly sharing them with our children.

“They sent me to come get you,” Carolina says, her voice interrupting my dreamy thoughts. “The ceremony is going to start in thirty minutes. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” I slowly stand, readjusting the skirt of my gown. The designer and his apprentice left a few minutes ago to grab something to eat and I haven’t moved from the vanity since.

“You need help.” Carolina rushes toward me, kneeling down to readjust the heavy skirt and train. “The dress is just…exquisite. It sparkles.”

“I know.” I sound smug, which I am, so I don’t bother trying to hide it. This dress is just magical, and I know it.

It’s going to be a magical day, but we deserve nothing less, Spencer and me. We’ve been through so much, and we’ve come out on the other side of it all.

Together.


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance