Chapter 17—Wedding Bells and Tears

“You look absolutely stunning!” Riley squealed, playing around with the lacy veil in her hands. Ivette shied away from the brush stained with powder that attacked her cheeks in the most unpleasant manner. Not early as unpleasant as her mood. The makeup artist had enough wits about her to keep the false smile in place, even if Ivette was being irritable.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were off to a funeral,” Amelia said, gripping Ivette’s chin softly, forcing her to look into those hazel eyes that mirrored hers. Ivette dropped her gaze in time to see her mother’s blood-red lips move as she whispered, “Smile, Ivy. This is just as important to you as it is to your father. I know you’re mad about the merger, but you’ve never been one to think with your heart. So smile. It’ll be over soon. After the wedding, you can vent as much as you want.”

Ivette swallowed and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. This was Amelia King. The woman who made sure everything was perfect. The woman who would never break regardless of the situation. The woman who had groomed Ivette to be the perfect tool for business.

Perhaps, the speech was supposed to be some sort of comfort for Ivette, but something fundamental shook as the words fell from her mother’s lips. Only then did she understand the hollow look that had resided in her mother’s eyes for years—she couldn’t remember when it hadn’t been there.

“Did you ever love him?” Ivette whispered, searching her mother’s eyes for an answer she already knew.

Amelia’s lips quivered slightly before a smile lifted and curved her lips. “Love is a fickle thing, Ivy. I’ve always taught you that. Wishing and seeking it is fool’s hardy.”

A tear slipped from her eyes and her mother smiled softly, even if her eyes were sad. “It gets easier.”

Ivette let out a shaky breath. “No. No, it doesn’t.”

Her mother’s smile broadened and she wiped the tears from Ivette’s cheeks. “Come now,” Amelia said to the artist as she wiped the teardrop carefully from Ivette’s cheeks, mindful of the makeup. “You must finish soon. Time is of the essence.”

So Ivette sat still, keeping the tears at bay as the lady kept pouring more and more powder unto her face. She felt truly miserable and dread recoiled in her stomach.

Her door swung open and Kerry walked in with a tight expression. “The men have arrived at the church. It won’t start until another hour but I just—“ Kerry paused when she looked toward Ivette. “My, you look lovely, dear,” she cooed, pinching Ivette’s chin and smiling at the artist’s delicate work on Ivette’s face. She nodded in approval and headed toward Amelia, telling her of how grand and splendid the church looked and all Ivette wanted to do was vomit.

“Here,” Ann said, extending her a cup of pudding parfait, and at the sight of it, Ivette’s mood brightened.

“Thank you,” she said as she grabbed the glass from Ann and took a scoop of it, ignoring the artist’s whining about staining her makeup.

“You sure you wanna go ahead with this? You looked happier than this when you were attending your grandmother’s funeral. No offense,” Ann said, wiping some of the pudding off the side of Ivette’s mouth. “We could always stage an escape if you want to run from this. You just need to ask.” Ann added.

Ivette stared at her friend and she knew Ann meant every word. Ann was like that. She would go to any lengths to ensure her friends were happy.

“I can do this,” Ivette reassured Ann.

****

Her makeup was done and Ivette had taken an excuse to her bathroom to cry for a few seconds before heading out to the church. She was about to leave the bathroom when she heard a thud and a groan coming from her bedroom.

Frowning, she walked out and she screamed when she found a man lying on his face by her window. Someone had broken into her room. A paparazzi? There had been tons of them outside her house when she awoke this morning but she couldn’t believe they had worked the nerve to break in.

He began to straighten and when Ivette screamed again, he groaned. “Och, lass, could you be any louder?”

Ivette stilled. “Cian?”

“Expecting someone else?” He asked, straightening and dusting his jacket and pants. “There’s an entire party of paparazzi on your front porch. Did’na want to cause a scene.”

Ivette rushed to the window and peered down. The height from her window was scary and a fall from this here would determine sure death. She had taken this into consideration when she bought the house. There had been a case of theft in her old apartment and the robber had broken in through the window since her door lock required a retinal scan.

She peered at Cian’s face and looked down again. There wasn’t even a ladder that could have aided him in his foolishness. “How did you even get up here?! Have you lost it?”

He grinned. “The walls of my home and mountains in my homelands made it seem like child’s play,” he ran fingers through his hair to brush the dirt from it, and he added when her eyes roved his face, scanning for injuries. “Rest assured lass, I am not hurt in any way.”

Ivette blinked and then scoffed. “I couldn’t care less if you broke an arm. Or two—“

There was a rapid knock on her door and her heart jumped. They couldn’t find her in here with him. Shit, shit, shit. “Ivy? I heard you scream. Everything alright in there?”

“Ah. . .yeah,” Ivette said, laughing nervously and shoving Cian toward her bathroom as the knocks grew incessant. “You stay in there and keep quiet,” she said in hushed tones and she pushed him into the bathroom, ignoring the lazy grin that spread on his face as she slammed the door in his achingly beautiful face.

She let out a shaky breath and palmed down her dress before cracking the door open slightly. Peering out the door, she plastered a warm smile on her face as she said, “yeah?”

Ann arched a brow and tried to pry the door open but Ivette would not let her. Riley tried peeking over Ann’s head but Ivette drew the door closer to its frame, stopping them from seeing anything inside. “I’ll be right out. I just need some air.”

Ann frowned but said nothing as she walked away. Riley took a spoon from her parfait before waving and following Ann down the stairs. She shut the door before letting out a breath. Close call. A fucking close call. Had her mother bothered to follow, she would have caught them. She was grateful that wasn’t the case, and she had to ensure he was gone before her mother got it into her head to come check on her.

She stomped over to the bathroom and pulled the door open. “You need to lea—“

She drew up short when she found Cian holding her vibrator and staring at it with fascination. Her cheeks flamed and she marched over to where he stood and snatched it from him. “Don’t touch my stuff, moron.”

He didn't seem offended by the insult. Rather, he pointed at it, wide-eyed. “I had stumbled upon a commercial for one of those but I found it hard to believe that it wrought any form of pleasure—“

“Shut the fuck up!” Ivette yelled, holding the pointed end of the dildo to his face like it was some sort of weapon.

He burst out laughing. “I am quite sure I am the first male ever to see a woman holding a faux manhood minutes before her wedding.”

Ivette groaned, storming out of her bathroom and throwing the darned thing in her dresser. It didn’t make her feel any better that she had purchased it while thinking of him and she had touched and used it while imagining it was him.

God save her soul. “You need to leave. Right now,” she said, widening the window and giving him a pointed look. When he kept staring at her strangely, she gestured outside. “Well? Leave!”

The amusement and light in his eyes died at the last word and he crossed the distance between them in long and swift strides, startling Ivette. She took a couple of steps backwards instinctively, but there was no room for escape as he placed his hands on either of her shoulders and said, “Doona get married.”

Ivette smothered a laugh. “I suggest you leave right now and stop whatever nonsense this is.”

But he was serious. His hold on her shoulders tightened and his eyes guttered with emotions that made something within her weaken. “Come with me. To Scotland.“

Ivette hissed, shrugging his hands off her. “You want me to run away with you? You truly are crazy.”

Cian growled. “I am NOT—” He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head slightly as if to get rid of his anger and frustration before continuing. “I am not requesting that you run away with me, lass. I am asking that you come with me and free yourself from this—“

“And who the fuck told you I wasn’t free? I am happy. I want to marry Aaron, and I will. I love him!”

“You need not bother with the lies, Ivette! It is in your eyes. I see you drown a little more every time I see you. Let me help—“

“Fuck off!” Ivette cried and she hated the tears that had begun to run down her cheeks. “You don’t know anything. You ruined everything. Everything was perfect before you came here. You come all the way here to ask me to run with you. Why? The ace to your grand plan to ruin my life?”

“Ivette,” he pleaded, but she wasn’t having any of it. She couldn’t take it. Not now at least, lest the strength she had garnered for days would dissipate into thin air and she might just give in to the urge to run from everything. Because she really wished to escape it.

Her voice was firm and cold as she said, “let go,” and the raw pain in his gaze as he did her bidding broke her. She rushed forward before he could see more of her tears and she didn’t turn around to look at him when she whispered, “Goodbye, Cian.”

She felt the weight of his stare on her back, even if he said nothing for several minutes. The soft padding of his foot hit the ground and she felt his arms circle around her as he hugged her from behind. Her heart ached and she began to sob, relaxing into his warmth behind her. She hadn’t realized how cold she felt until he held her.

His breath ruffled the free strands of hair that had come undone from her braid and he tucked her head underneath his chin. They remained that way for long seconds and Ivette wished the moment would last forever. She wished they had met under different circumstances. She wished she wasn’t the King heir. She wished for once that she could be normal.

But she wasn’t, and the moment of comfort in the arms of a man she couldn’t be with came to an abrupt end when he whispered, “I wish I’d met you first.”

He planted a kiss on the top of her head and pulled away.

And when Ivette whirled around to stop him from leaving, he had already slipped out the window. She rushed over to the ledge, gripping the panes hard and looking down. “Cian!” she called out, but he was already crossing the lawn and leaving her life like she had asked him to.

She began sobbing in earnest, and as if on cue, there was a knock on her door. Her mother’s voice flowed from the other end, saying, “Ivette dear, it’s time to go.”