Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
He winked. “Sounds like a plan.”
Then he took me home. He showered me. He fed me. He fucked me. Then we spent the rest of the night watching a documentary about elephants.
EPILOGUE
Apparently, “morning, bitches” isn’t appropriate to say to your kids and husband. Who knew?
ETIENNE
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.
I was nervous.
I didn’t know why I was nervous, because this day couldn’t be any more than what I wanted. But I was.
Maybe it’s because I thought she was making a horrible decision. I mean, who would want to spend the rest of their life with an ex-con like me? Who would want to have kids with someone like me? Who would want to spend the rest of their life knowing that everyone would know that you’re the dregs of society?
The doors opened, and what little breath I’d been able to pull into my lungs through my anxiety for this moment flooded my chest.
Because there she was.
Her eyes were clear and wide.
Her mouth was spread into a wide-open smile.
Her hair was down, just like I liked it, and in a mass of wild curls around her face.
She wasn’t wearing a veil—we’d discussed it in length, and I convinced her that she didn’t need to wear something that annoyed her so much.
The dress, though.
The dress was what caught my attention.
We’d talked in length about her dress as well.
She’d wanted me to go to each dress fitting. So, Diana and I had been there, at every single one, and helped her not only find the dress that she could stand being in for any length of time, but then made sure as it was sized to fit her that it wouldn’t drive her absolutely insane the entire time she was in it.
We spent hours making sure the damn thing didn’t bother her in any way. No ridges or seams in uncomfortable spots. No poking edges or corners.
No tulle along the top of her toes.
However, when I’d seen the dress last, it’d been white.
Now, it was a deep, midnight purple, almost black.
It was breathtaking on her. It hugged her tightly, showing off her beautifully tanned skin.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
Conrad, who’d agreed to be my best man, started to laugh under his breath.
I elbowed him, causing him to laugh harder.
She moved closer.
She’d elected not to have any of her family present for the event. Not even her sister.
Not because she didn’t want to try to bridge that gap—at least with her sister and possibly her father, she did—but because it was a fast, spur-of-the-moment thing. And she wanted it to be intimate. Her family wasn’t “intimate” according to her.
And who was I to argue? I didn’t have any family locally except for Conrad.
Conrad was the only one that knew I was getting married.
My parents were still in Italy. My sister was doing what my sister did—work and ignore life. And I didn’t like my brother-in-law.
So yeah, just the closest of friends were here today. And Matilda was walking toward me, completely alone, but happy.
When she finally got to me, it felt like my heart would beat straight out of my chest.
Her eyes were clear and melty brown, just the way I loved them.
In her hand was the present that I gave to her yesterday for this very event.
A tiny, squishy dick. It was the size of a pink eraser and fit perfectly into her hand. And she was squeezing it for all she was worth.
It was a nervous habit. Finding something to touch or squeeze and obsess over during times where her anxiety was getting the best of her.
I knew she’d love it. It was almost as good as the real thing.
At least, that’s what she’d told me last night.
I grinned at her, causing her to roll her eyes.
She moved closer, and I bent down so I could hear her whisper in my ear, “You look so handsome.”
I cupped the back of her elbow and squeezed. “You changed your dress.”
She shot me a delicious smirk as she said, “Couldn’t have you seeing the dress entirely. That’s bad luck.”
She’d told me she wasn’t worried about bad luck. Now I understood why.
“It looks gorgeous on you,” I told her bluntly. “I’m glad you went with it.”
And when I said “gorgeous,” I meant drop dead, sweep your feet out from under you, hit the floor, and lose your breath kind of gorgeous.
“Me, too,” she whispered as the minister continued to drone on. “Now hush so I can read the vows you wrote for me.”
That was another thing we’d decided to do. Write each other’s vows.
I’d been struggling with how to put the feelings I felt for her into words, and she’d suggested we write each other’s.
I’d gone with it because it sounded like a great idea at the time. Now, seeing the look of glee on her face, I wasn’t so sure.