Chapter 116
Nora's POV
An hour later, I walked out in the cream dress he'd prepared for me. Julian's gaze moved over me slowly, appreciation clear in his eyes.
"Beautiful," he said simply, offering his arm.
We walked to the ceremony site together, and I stopped the moment I saw it. The venue stole the breath from my lungs — a glass-enclosed terrace suspended over the ocean, with transparent flooring that revealed the glittering water below. The aisle was lined with soft blue and white hydrangeas on both sides, leading toward an arch wrapped in lily of the valley and delphinium.
"I've never seen anything like this," I breathed, eyes wide as I took it all in. "It's like standing between the ocean and the sky."
Julian's hand settled at the small of my back. "Zachary designed everything himself. He spent three months planning every detail."
White folding chairs stood in neat rows, each one tied with a sheer ribbon that moved in the ocean breeze. The long tables were draped in blue and ivory linens, white porcelain edged in silver, low arrangements of orchids and shells at the center so guests could see each other across the table.
I pulled out my phone to capture the scene. "This is incredible. The care that went into every little thing..."
"He said a wedding only happens once," Julian added quietly. "He wanted her to remember it forever."
I lowered my phone, something wistful crossing my face. "To do all of this for the person you love... that's rare."
Julian's fingers tightened slightly at my back. I felt him lean closer, his breath warm against my ear. "I hope you won't be this impressed by other men."
I turned to find his eyes slightly narrowed, carrying that edge of jealousy I was beginning to recognize. A laugh escaped before I could stop it. "Are you seriously jealous of the groom at his own wedding?"
"You're looking at his work like it hung the moon."
"Then I guess you'll just have to outdo him someday," I shot back without thinking.
The words hung between us for a heartbeat. Heat crept up my face as I realized what I'd just implied — that I expected him to do something like this for me one day. For us.
I dropped my gaze, suddenly very interested in the floral arrangements. "I didn't mean it like that —"
"I won't disappoint you." His voice was low and certain. A promise, not a reassurance.
Before I could respond, he was already guiding me toward one of the long tables near the front. Other guests were beginning to arrive.
Julian pulled out my chair and sat down beside me. His hand found mine under the table, fingers threading together in a way that had become natural between us.
The ceremony began with a soft piano melody drifting through hidden speakers. The large LED screen near the altar flickered to life, playing a montage of photographs and videos.
I watched as Zachary and his fiancée Emily Ross's story unfolded. Nothing extravagant or staged. Just two people falling in love through ordinary moments made extraordinary by their presence in each other's lives.
My eyes stung. I blinked quickly, trying to hide it, but Julian noticed. He always noticed.
He didn't say anything — just held my gaze for a long moment before turning back to the screen, his thumb tracing slow circles against my palm.
The video faded and the music shifted. A cello began to play, and the glass doors at the far end of the terrace opened.
Flower girls appeared first, scattering white and blue petals along the transparent walkway. Then Emily came into view on her father's arm, and the entire terrace seemed to hold its breath.
She wore a simple satin mermaid gown, her dark hair swept up beneath a pearl crown. Her face was radiant with a happiness she couldn't contain, tears already tracking down her cheeks even as she smiled.
"She's beautiful," I whispered. "That kind of joy — you can't fake it."
Emily reached the halfway point, and Zachary couldn't wait anymore. He left his position at the altar and strode toward her, drawing soft laughter from the guests. His expression changed completely as he reached her and took both her hands, and her father stepped back with an indulgent smile.
The officiant's voice carried across the terrace as he guided them through their vows.
"I promise," Zachary said, his voice steady despite the tears in his eyes, "to stand beside you through poverty and wealth, sickness and health, through every challenge life throws at us."
Emily's response was equally simple and devastating. "I promise to trust you, support you, and choose you, every single day, no matter what comes."
Julian's arm slipped around my shoulders, drawing me in against his side.
"Someday," he said quietly, his lips brushing my temple, "we'll have this too."
I turned to look at him. His eyes held mine with no trace of doubt, and something inside me shifted and settled.
---
The ceremony ended with the couple's first kiss as husband and wife, met with applause and cheers. As guests began moving toward the reception area, Julian stood and held out his hand.
"Ready to slip away for a bit? We need to head to the yacht soon."
I let him pull me to my feet. We slipped out from the crowd and made our way toward the private marina.
The walk was quiet at first, just the sound of waves and distant celebration. Then I started thinking out loud, the way I always did when a story idea took hold.
"If I interview Zachary, I want to come at it from a different angle. Not just the business success story everyone expects."
Julian glanced at me, curiosity in his expression. "What angle?"
"The romantic one." I gestured back toward where the reception was getting underway. "Here's this brilliant guy, powerful in his field, but what actually defines him is that he spent three months designing the perfect wedding for the woman he loves. That he walked toward her instead of waiting at the altar because he couldn't stand being apart from her for another second."
I was building momentum now, the journalist in me piecing together the narrative. "It's humanizing. It shows that these people everyone thinks of as untouchable actually feel things deeply, that they put personal connection above appearances. That angle resonates with readers, makes them see —"
"So you're going to write him up as the perfect romantic hero."
I stopped walking, catching the edge in Julian's voice. He'd halted a few steps ahead, his back to me, shoulders tense.
"Are you..." I couldn't hold back the laugh. "Are you jealous again? Seriously, again?"