196
196
The two-week whirlwind had been a blur of frantic phone calls, preparations and high-priority contracts because Derek didn't want to wait, especially as Olivia was pregnant, but as the heavy oak doors of the chapel swung open, the world fell into a breathless silence.
Olivia stood at the threshold, her hand trembling slightly as it rested on her father’s arm. She looked like a vision from a different era. Her gown was a floor-length, empire-waist creation made of gossamer-thin silk chiffon and Chantilly lace. The bodice featured a deep V-neckline framed by delicate, off-the-shoulder lace sleeves that fluttered like butterfly wings. From the high waistline, layers of pleated silk flowed downward, allowing her to move with a weightless, fluid elegance. Her hair was swept into a loose, romantic updo, held in place by a simple veil that trailed behind her like a mist.
As the string quartet began the first notes of "Clair de Lune," Olivia’s father squeezed her hand, a silent gesture of pride, and they began the long walk down the aisle.
At the end of that aisle stood Derek.
He was dressed in a bespoke charcoal-gray tuxedo that made him look every bit the handsome man he was. As he watched Olivia approach, his chest rose and fell in a sharp, jagged rhythm. He never took his eyes off her, a huge smile on his face, looking like a man who had finally found the center of his universe.
The chapel was filled with their closest family and friends—Isabella was at the front as maid of honor, grinning through a veil of happy tears, while Tessa stood, looking like she was about to burst with pride.
As Olivia’s father placed her hand in Derek’s, the rest of the room faded into a gray blur. Derek’s fingers were warm and steady as they locked with hers. He leaned in, his voice a low, private vibration that only she could hear. “You look breathtaking, Liv. Absolutely perfect.”
Olivia smiled up at him, “You look very handsome as well,” she replied.
Derek grinned at her in response. The ceremony was brief, exactly as they wanted. It'd have been smaller if it'd been up to them, but their mothers didn't want to hear a thing of it, and in the end Derek and Olivia had just given in and let their parents take care of it. They didn't need long, flowery speeches; they had already lived through the fire. When it came time for the vows, Derek didn't look at the officiant. He kept his eyes locked on Olivia’s, his voice ringing out with a clarity that surprised even his own family.
“I, Derek, take you, Olivia, to be my wife. To be my partner in all things and my sanctuary in the storm. I promise to protect you, to honor the life we are building, and to spend every day of the rest of my life making sure you never have to wonder if you are loved. You are my home, and I am finally where I belong.”
Olivia’s voice was thick with emotion as she repeated her own vows, her thumb tracing the back of his hand. When it was time for the rings, Derek slid the matching platinum band next to the canary diamond, the two pieces of jewelry finally completing the set—and the promise.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant said with a smile. “Derek, you may kiss your bride.”
Derek didn't hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, his hand resting firmly against the small of her back as he tilted her into a deep, cinematic kiss that claimed her in front of everyone they loved. It was a kiss that spoke of everything they had overcome: the complications, and the fear of the future.
When they finally broke apart, the chapel erupted in cheers. Isabella was whistling, and their parents were embracing, but Derek just tucked Olivia’s arm into his, looking down at her with a triumphant, possessive grin.
“My wife,” he whispered, as if he still couldn't believe it, “Ready to spend the rest of your life with me, Mrs. Hawthorne.
Olivia beamed at him. “More than anything, Derek.” She replied.
They turned together and walked back down the aisle, as a family of three, heading toward a future that was finally, undeniably theirs.
Several minutes later, the heavy privacy glass of the limo cut off the roar of the cheering crowd, plunging them into a plush, leather-scented world that was finally theirs alone. The city blurred past the windows, but Derek only had eyes for the woman in his arms.
He didn't wait for her to settle; he hooked his hands under her thighs and pulled her across the seat until she was perched on his lap, her silk-chiffon skirts billowing around them like a cloud. Olivia let out a startled shriek that quickly dissolved into a bright, breathless laugh. She wound her arms around his neck, the canary diamond on her finger catching the dim interior glow of the car.
“Happy to be my wife, Liv?” Derek asked, his trademark smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes were dark with a pride he didn't even try to hide.
“You are so incredibly cocky,” she replied, though she was beaming, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“How could I not be?” Derek asked, his voice a low, rumbling vibration against her chest. “I’m feeling pretty damn impressed with myself right now. Do you remember that first day we met? You looked me dead in the eye and told me we were never going to happen. Ever.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, leaning back just enough to see the triumphant glint in his gaze. “Oh, please. Are you seriously going to gloat on our wedding day?”
“Maybe just a little bit,” he murmured, his smile fading into something much deeper, much more vulnerable. He tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her flush against his tuxedo. “But mostly, I also wanted to say that I'm glad you changed your mind. I just keep thinking about how close I came to letting you walk away. I can't imagine what life would have been like if I hadn't been man enough to admit I couldn't live without you.”
Olivia’s expression softened, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “You mean if we hadn't jumped into bed together the second we got the chance?” she teased gently.
“That too,” he admitted with a gravelly chuckle, his eyes roaming over the delicate lace of her bodice. “But the sex was just the hook, Liv. It’s the woman that kept me. I’m so damn glad we fought for this.” He took her hand, his touch reverent as he lifted her palm to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her skin. “I love you, Liv. With all my heart. With everything I am.”
She cupped his face, her heart swelling so much it felt like it might bruise her ribs. “I love you too, Derek,” she whispered, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. The adrenaline of the ceremony was finally beginning to ebb, replaced by a heavy, comfortable lethargy. “I’m so glad we pushed the reception to tomorrow. I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“I know, baby,” Derek said softly. His hand moved with practiced instinct, sliding down to the gentle curve of her stomach. He began to rub slow, soothing circles over the silk of her gown, a protective gesture that had become his favorite habit. “The hotel is minutes away. You can sleep as long as you want once we get there.”
Olivia hummed, the rhythmic motion of his hand making her eyes flutter shut. She shifted against him, feeling the familiar, steady heat of his body. “Mmm. That sounds perfect,” she breathed, then nipped playfully at his lower lip. “But not before you make love to me first, husband.”
Derek’s breath hitched at the title, the word anchoring him to her more firmly than any legal document ever could. “Husband,” he repeated, the word sounding like a victory. “I like the sound of that. I think I could get used to it.”
He bridged the small gap between them and kissed her—a deep, slow, and possessive seal that tasted of champagne and the infinite, beautiful future they were finally starting together.
—--------
THE END
—--------