Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
His face lights up when she finally rounds the corner. His eyes move over her, darkening with lust. It briefly, and irrationally, makes me want to punch him in the face. Except he’s her fiancé and about to become her husband. And I’m already well aware that these two are madly in love with each other. So, I tamp down that fatherly protectiveness and remind myself that she’s no longer the little girl whose boo-boos I used to kiss better.
I give her a kiss and a hug, and she takes her place at the altar. I sniff once and clear my throat, trying to keep my emotions in check. I’m not much of a crier, and never have been. But she’s my baby girl, and it doesn’t matter that she’s an adult. I’ll always remember the first time I held her in my arms, so tiny and new, and how she seemed like an impossible miracle.
I blink a few times and fish a tissue out of my pocket, just in case. My gaze catches on Hanna, standing with her bouquet of flowers in front of her, ducking her head every so often to dab at her eyes.
She meets my gaze and I quirk a brow, a silent, “Are you okay?”
She tips her chin down and gives me a quick wink, signaling that she is indeed okay, before she refocuses on King and Queenie. And I do the same.
Watching my daughter and her son join their lives together.
CHAPTER TWO
A Little Too Real
Hanna
I’M ONLY HALF-tuned into the conversation happening to my right. Soon, I’ll have to get up and give a speech. I feel like a bit of a fraud. Not because I don’t believe I belong at the head table as one of Queenie’s bridesmaids. She and I have grown close. At first when she asked me to be part of the wedding party, I thought she was being nice by trying to include me, to give me a role in the wedding, when the one I truly wanted to be able to claim wasn’t mine to take. But I quickly realized that wasn’t the case. That the request had been genuine.
I accepted regardless of motive, but in the months leading up to the wedding, I found myself taking on a new role in her life. Not just as a friend, but as a sort of maternal figure. Queenie came to me for wedding advice, and my unique relationship with Ryan gave me a special kind of insight.
Ryan and I were raised as siblings, but the truth is, he’s not my brother. An accidental teen pregnancy threw my life into upheaval. When my parents found out, they were upset at first, but they weren’t about to leave me to fend for myself. I wouldn’t consider terminating the pregnancy, so that meant I could either raise him on my own—the father was in college and not interested in being involved in Ryan’s life—give him up for adoption, or the third option my parents presented. They would adopt him and raise him as their own. I’d been young and scared, and allowing my parents to adopt Ryan had seemed like the best choice.
But today has tested my emotional limits in ways I didn’t expect. And maybe I should have. It’s an odd position to be in—sitting up here as one of the bridesmaids. Being part of the wedding party for Queenie and Ryan, who most people here believe is my much younger brother, when in reality, he’s my son.
That’s been the most difficult part of today—the realization that I’ll always experience the landmarks in Ryan’s life from the vantage point of his sister, even though in my heart I’m more than that. I’ll forever be in this strange middle ground between sibling and parent. I thought I’d come to terms with that long ago, and for the most part I have, but today hasn’t been easy. When I was younger, I didn’t have the same perspective I do now. I couldn’t see, in the same way, all the things I would have to take a back seat on.
I sip my wine, doing my best to keep a smile on my face and stay engaged in the conversation. I haven’t been able to stomach much for dinner, which is a pity since what little I’ve managed to eat has been delicious.
My mother approaches the head table. She pauses to talk to Queenie and Ryan before she makes her way down the table to me. “Sweetheart, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course, Mom.” I set my napkin on the table and push my chair back, meeting my mother on the other side of the table.
She threads her arm through mine and leads me away from all the guests. When we’re a safe distance away, she puts her hands on my arms and gives me a warm smile. “You were fabulous today. I’m so glad you and Queenie get along so well. She seems like a good fit for Ryan, doesn’t she?” It sounds like she’s asking for confirmation more than anything.