Chapter 64 Chloe Wears the Wedding Dress from Twenty-Three Years Ago
By midnight, the sprawling mansion had finally fallen dead silent. Chloe listened through the walls until she heard the heavy click of Mason closing his bedroom door, the muffled sound of the shower running, and finally, the absolute quiet of the teenager going to sleep.
She waited another agonizing thirty minutes to be absolutely certain. Then, she quietly opened her door and slipped down the dark hallway, moving like a shadow in nothing but a whisper-thin, black silk slip. She didn't even bother knocking. She just turned the heavy brass knob and slipped directly into Nathan's sanctuary.
The master suite was bathed in the dim, golden glow of a single floor lamp. The deep blue silk sheets of his massive bed were perfectly turned down, looking incredibly warm and inviting, practically begging her to dive right in.
But Nathan wasn't in bed. He was sitting in the velvet lounge chair by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The absolute second she walked in, his dark eyes tracked the slide of the sheer black silk against her thighs. He rose slowly, a devastatingly fond, dangerous smile curving his lips. "You're here," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.
"Mmm-hmm! Ready and waiting, Professor," Chloe purred, practically pouncing across the room. "Were you losing your mind waiting for me? Let me kiss you first!"
She threw her arms around his neck, aggressively pressing a hot, lingering kiss to his jawline.
Nathan let her kiss his neck a few times, completely unable to suppress a soft, helpless chuckle. But the second her hands started wandering restlessly down his chest toward his belt, he raised his large hands, firmly catching her wrists and pinning them against his heartbeat. "Wait."
"Wait for what?" Chloe pulled back, her brow furrowing in genuine, frustrated displeasure. She was actively throwing herself at him—what the hell was there to wait for?
"There's an outfit I need you to try on first," Nathan said softly, his eyes darkening with a heavy, unreadable emotion.
"Oh? You want to aggressively spice things up with a costume?" Chloe giggled, a wicked spark in her eye. "No problem at all! I will wear whatever you want."
Nathan didn't laugh. He simply laced his fingers through hers and led her across the room toward the massive, custom walk-in closet.
He pushed the double doors open and flipped the switch. The previously dark space instantly flooded with bright, warm light.
Chloe stepped inside and completely froze. The breath violently left her lungs.
Standing dead center in the middle of the mahogany room, perfectly displayed on a velvet mannequin like a sacred, untouchable relic, was a pristine white wedding gown.
The design was timeless, a masterpiece of craftsmanship: a delicate strapless bodice, a brutally fitted waist, and a sprawling, dramatic train heavily studded with hand-sewn pearls. Flawlessly white and completely breathtaking, it was the exact, undeniable fantasy every woman dreamed of wearing.
Chloe recognized it instantly.
It was the exact dress she had custom-ordered for their wedding twenty-three years ago. It had been an outrageously extravagant purchase that cost thousands of dollars at the time. She couldn't logically explain why, but as a college student, she had become absolutely obsessed with this specific gown and completely refused to let it go. She felt in her bones that her wedding would be a total failure if she couldn't walk down the aisle in it.
And Nathan, as always, had completely, recklessly indulged her. If she wanted the moon, he found a way to drag it down from the sky.
He had violently emptied his entire savings account. He had maxed out all his pathetic college credit cards. He had quietly decided to rent a cheap, ill-fitting suit for himself and buy a simple, temporary tungsten ring, completely funneling the entirety of their meager wedding budget directly into Chloe’s dress.
He had desperately scraped together every last penny he had just to place the deposit.
Chloe had been overjoyed, obsessively counting down the days until the gown was finished. She used to lay in his narrow dorm bed, constantly whispering in his ear that she was going to be the most beautiful bride in Chicago history.
Nathan would pull her into his chest, smiling that soft, indulgent smile. "Won't I look completely pathetic wearing a cheap rented suit standing next to you in something so gorgeous?"
Chloe would kiss him fiercely. "Of course not! You're devastatingly handsome. Even if you wore a dirty T-shirt, you'd be the best-looking guy in the cathedral! We're a perfect match!"
Tragically, before the wedding could ever take place, and before the final alterations on the dress were even finished... Chloe vanished off the face of the earth.
Standing in the closet, a brutal, suffocating wave of grief suddenly crashed over Chloe's chest. She couldn't physically bear to imagine the agonizing days Nathan had endured.
What did he feel when he received the cheerful call from the bridal shop, and had to go completely alone to pick up the dress of a dead woman? she thought, her throat tightening in absolute agony. Did he drive or take a taxi? Was the massive box too heavy for him to carry while his heart was violently breaking into a million pieces?
The horrifying thought made Chloe's chest ache so deeply her eyes began to violently sting.
She blinked hard, desperately fighting back the tears, and walked forward. She reached out, her trembling fingers gently caressing the smooth, icy satin. "This dress... it's been kept in such absolutely flawless condition."
"It's been sealed in a climate-controlled display in this closet for two decades. I had it professionally cleaned and preserved again just a few days ago. You can try it on," Nathan said. He stepped up close behind her, his chest brushing her back, his gaze locked on the beautiful gown. "All these agonizing years... I have constantly, obsessively imagined exactly what you would look like wearing it."
His voice dropped to a fragile, desperate whisper. "Chloe... would you please try it on for me?"
Chloe let out a wet sniffle, her golden eyes completely glassy with unshed tears. She nodded firmly, turning her head to offer him a blinding, beautiful smile. "Okay. I'll put it on for you."
Nathan stepped backward out of the closet, gently pulling the doors shut to give her privacy.
He walked back into the master bedroom and collapsed into the chair by the window. He bowed his head, his long fingers violently, unconsciously rubbing his own knuckles back and forth. He was completely lost in a suffocating ocean of anticipation and dread.
After an eternity of waiting, the heavy closet doors finally clicked open.
Chloe stepped out into the dim light, wearing the wedding gown.
Her dark hair fell loosely over her bare shoulders, drawing the eye directly to her delicate collarbones. The brutally tight, smooth satin of the bodice accentuated the dramatic curves of her waist perfectly.
She held the heavy front hem of the skirt slightly lifted with both hands, the massive, pearl-studded train unfurling like a waterfall of white silk behind her as she walked slowly, step by step, toward him.
Nathan's brilliant, hyper-active mind went completely, violently blank.
Every single complex clinical trial, every corporate responsibility, every logical thought that usually occupied his brain instantly evaporated. He sat completely paralyzed in the velvet chair.
He stared at the impossible, breathtaking scene before him—the absolute, ultimate dream that had violently haunted his nightmares for twenty-three years, finally standing in his bedroom, bathed in an ethereal, unreal glow. It completely consumed his vision.
Is this a dream? his shattered mind whispered. Is this just another cruel, chemical hallucination?
After the initial, blinding surge of overwhelming joy, a deep, horrifying dread washed over him. His massive frame began to physically tremble. He was genuinely terrified to look directly at the radiant woman, utterly terrified that if he blinked, she would vanish into thin air again.
She stopped directly in front of his chair. With a rare, incredibly vulnerable shyness, she looked down at him and whispered, "Do you like it?"
"It's..." Nathan's throat completely locked up. He couldn't physically control his vocal cords to form a complete sentence. He felt violently lightheaded, as if his soul had literally detached from his body and was floating above the room. "It's exactly as I imagined..."
"Is it as beautiful as you imagined?" Chloe smiled sweetly. She stepped between his spread knees, leaning down to gently kiss a wet drop from his cheekline. "Professor... why are you crying?"
Only then did Nathan actually realize his vision was blurred. Tears were silently, uncontrollably streaming down his face.
"I was just so terrified," he murmured, his voice breaking into a harsh, raspy crack. "I was terrified this was just another dream."
"How could it be a dream?" Chloe whispered fiercely, cupping his face in both hands. "I am truly back, Nathan. And I swear to god, I am never leaving you again."
"I love you, Nathan," she declared, her voice ringing with absolute, feral passion. The brilliant light in her golden eyes nearly drowned him.
He raised his shaking hand, his rough palm gently caressing her soft cheek. He opened his mouth, the heavy, agonizing truth tearing its way out of his chest. "I love you, too, Chloe. God, I love you so much."
He didn't know what finally broke inside him, but the tears just kept falling.
He reached up, grabbing her hips, and pulled her down into his lap. He buried his hands in her hair, tilting her head back, and kissed his bride—the woman he had waited an entire, agonizing lifetime to finally touch.
In that explosive, blinding second, he knew with absolute certainty that every single agonizing second of the last twenty-three years of waiting had been entirely worth it.
The violent tremor of a soul finally finding its anchor, the heavy, thunderous palpitation completely filling the black void in his chest, the desperate, clawing urge to cry, laugh, and violently cage her in his arms—Nathan knew this lethal intensity could only ever be unlocked by Chloe. Only she could make a dead man feel this aggressively, painfully alive.
The air in the warm bedroom grew unbearably thick, heavy with the intoxicating scent of her vanilla perfume and his starved desire.
His arms locked around her waist like steel bands, dragging her impossibly closer against his chest. The kiss rapidly shifted from gentle, tearful reverence to an intense, starving urgency. He completely devoured her mouth, his tongue sweeping past her lips, tasting the faint, sweet trace of her lip balm and the absolute, undeniable reality of her presence.
After a long, blistering minute, they finally pulled apart, both gasping for air.
Nathan pressed his forehead hard against hers, his hot, ragged breath brushing her flushed cheek.
His large, warm hand slid slowly from the curve of her waist, trailing up the smooth, icy satin of her back until his fingers found the top of the metal zipper hiding her bare skin.
"May I?" he rasped.
His voice had dropped to a dark, terrifyingly raw frequency, and for the first time in his life, his hands were violently trembling.