Chapter 183
Grace's POV
The water sound suddenly stopped. I sat up in bed and walked toward the bathroom door.
Just as I reached for the door handle, the door suddenly opened. My momentum sent me crashing directly into Alex's arms.
"Grace!" His arms immediately wrapped around me, steadying us both. He was wearing a silk robe, collar slightly open, his solid chest pressed against me. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"Are you okay?" My cheeks burned with embarrassment.
His hands gently cupped my face. "I'm fine, just finished showering." But when my fingers touched his hands, I noticed how cold his skin was.
"Alex, why are your hands so cold?" I stepped back to look at him carefully. His face was paler than usual, and his hands were trembling slightly. This isn't right.
"It's nothing, just the cold air in the bathroom." He tried to dismiss my concern, but I was already pulling him toward the bed.
"Don't lie to me." I guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, then grabbed the cashmere throw from the chair. "You're clearly not warm enough."
I wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, then adjusted the room's temperature control. The gentle hum of the heating filled the silence as I knelt beside him, taking his hands in mine.
"Grace, you don't need to—"
"Shh." I gently rubbed his hands. His fingers were like ice, and I could feel the slight tremor in them. How long has he been this cold?
"Better?" I asked softly, continuing to massage warmth into his hands.
Alex looked at me, his expression softening. "You don't have to take care of me like this."
"You're not fully recovered yet," I said firmly, meeting his eyes. "You shouldn't have rushed to bring me here."
His expression changed—vulnerability mixed with gratitude. He freed one hand to stroke my cheek. "I'll be fine," he said quietly. "Just some lingering effects."
I leaned into his shoulder, breathing in the subtle scent of his cologne.
"Don't push yourself," I whispered. "You know I'll worry."
He pulled me closer, and I rested against his chest, feeling his steady, strong heartbeat. The heating began to warm the room, and gradually, his body temperature returned to normal. I let myself sink into his embrace, feeling the exhaustion from this exciting day finally catching up with me.
Sunlight streamed through the hotel windows as I slowly woke up. What time is it? I reached for my phone on the nightstand, and my heart sank. 12:47 PM.
"Oh God." I bolted upright, panic flooding through me. We were supposed to meet with the bridal team at 11:30 AM. I'm over an hour late.
I scrambled out of bed, frantically looking around for Alex. "Alex? Alex!"
"I'm here." His voice came from the living room, calm and reassuring. I rushed out to find him sitting at the small dining table, wearing a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, drinking coffee.
"Why didn't you wake me? We're late! The dress appointment—"
"Has been moved to this afternoon." He set down his cup and stood, walking toward me with that composed stride that always calmed my nerves. "I called this morning to reschedule. The delay fees are on us, of course."
"But I set three alarms—"
"I turned them off." His hands rested on my shoulders, thumbs tracing soothing circles. "You needed sleep, Grace."
I wanted to argue, but the concern in his eyes stopped me.
"Okay," I finally said. "But next time, wake me and let me decide."
"Deal." He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Now, are you ready for the most beautiful preparation day?"
The photography studio at Elysium Heights was a wonderland of lights, cameras, and the most exquisite gowns I'd ever seen. Eight different looks were arranged throughout the space—spring florals, summer elegance, autumn richness, winter glamour, modern minimalism, and special occasion pieces that took my breath away.
"Mrs. Morgan," the head stylist approached with a warm smile, "we've prepared vintage jewelry collections to complement each look. Mr. Morgan was very specific about choosing pieces that would highlight your natural beauty."
He thought of everything. I glanced at Alex, who was speaking quietly with the photographer, and warmth spread through my chest. He noticed my gaze and winked, that charming smile playing at his lips.
The next few hours flew by in a blur of silk, satin, and flashing lights. Each outfit change felt like stepping into a different version of myself—sometimes ethereal, sometimes powerful, but always beautiful. Alex watched from behind the cameras, and every time our eyes met, I could see something that made me breathless.
"The chemistry between you two is incredible," the photographer murmured during a break. "Every shot looks like a work of art."
As we finished the static portraits and moved to video segments, the sun began to set. What should have taken a full day was completed in just a few hours.
"I think we've captured everything we need," the photographer announced after reviewing the final shots. "This might be the most efficient and beautiful shoot I've ever directed."
"There's one more thing," the stylist interjected, approaching us with a camera. "The hotel has a tradition. There's an ancient wishing tree in the back garden—couples often go there for final commemorative photos."
The wishing tree was magnificent—a thousand-year-old oak whose branches seemed to touch the sky. Beneath it stood a small stone altar covered with ribbons and tokens left by previous couples.
"Legend says lovers who tie their names together here receive eternal blessings," the stylist explained, handing me two golden ribbons. "It's said to grant wishes for everlasting love."
I took the ribbons, feeling their smooth texture between my fingers. I carefully wrote our names—Grace and Alex—on each ribbon. Alex took them from my hands, and as he began weaving the ribbons together, his fingers brushed mine. His movements were deliberate, almost reverent, creating an intricate braid.
"Lovers who tie their names here can pray for lifelong true love," I said softly, watching him work. "Never to be separated."
He looked up at me, blue eyes deep in the golden sunset. "A lifetime isn't enough." His voice was low, almost a whisper. "Since we're making wishes, I want forever. Eternity."
The words made me shiver—not from cold, but from the sheer weight of his devotion.
Alex closed his eyes and pressed his palms together in prayer. His face took on an expression of deep reverence, as if communing with something sacred. The setting sun created a golden halo around his silhouette, and in this moment, he looked like something from a dream.
I raised the Polaroid camera, unable to resist capturing this moment. Click. The camera hummed softly as it processed the image. When the photo emerged, I gasped. The golden sunset light framed Alex perfectly. It was the most beautiful photograph I'd ever seen.
I also pressed my palms together, closed my eyes, and made a silent wish to the ribbons now intertwined on the altar. Let this be real. Let this last. Let us always find our way back to each other.
When I opened my eyes, Alex was looking at me with such tenderness it took my breath away.
"Can I see the photo?" he asked as we walked back to the hotel.
I held the Polaroid protectively against my chest. "No. This one is mine." I smiled mischievously. "Some things should stay private."
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the night air.