Chapter 9
The wedding was small.
Perfect.
We had it in the backyard of the smaller, warmer house I’d bought us, the one with the big porch and the garden Clara had always wanted.
Only twenty people were there.
Her mom, crying happy tears the whole time.
Marcus and my lawyer, both of whom had become like family.
The new board members and their spouses.
A few of the staff from the mansion who’d always been kind.
My dad’s old business partner, who’d been like an uncle to me after my dad died.
No one else.
No fake friends.
No greedy relatives.
No drama.
Just people who loved us.
Clara walked down the aisle on her mom’s arm, wearing a simple white dress that made her look like an angel.
I cried when I saw her.
I didn’t even try to hide it.
The ceremony was short, written by us, full of promises to always be kind, to always fight for each other, to never let anything or anyone come between us.
When the officiant said I could kiss the bride, I picked her up and spun her around, kissing her like the whole world was watching, even though it was only twenty people we loved.
The reception was full of good food and bad dancing and even worse speeches.
Her mom gave a speech that made everyone cry, talking about how Clara had always had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever known, how she’d always believed good things would happen if you just kept being kind even when the world was cruel.
Marcus gave a speech that made everyone laugh, talking about how he’d known I was a goner the second he’d seen me run down the stairs to save Clara, moving faster than he’d ever seen anyone move in his life.
At the end of the night, after everyone had left, Clara and I sat on the porch swing, watching the stars come out, her head on my shoulder, her hand in mine.
“Mrs. Carter,” I said, squeezing her hand.
She smiled, lifting her hand to look at her wedding ring, shining next to the engagement ring.
“Sounds nice,” she said.
“Sounds perfect,” I corrected.
She laughed.
“Remember that day in the ballroom?” she said. “When you were sitting in that wheelchair, and everyone was laughing at you? Did you ever think it would lead to this?”
I thought about it.
I thought about the cold metal of the wheelchair armrests.
About Vanessa’s sneer.
About the silence of two hundred people who didn’t care.
About Clara’s soft voice, cutting through the noise.
“No,” I said. “I didn’t. I thought my life was over that day. I thought I’d lost everything. But I was wrong. I didn’t lose anything that mattered. I just lost all the stuff that was weighing me down. All the fake people, all the lies, all the pressure to be something I wasn’t. And I gained you. I gained everything that actually matters.”
She kissed me softly.
“We gained each other,” she said.
We sat there for a long time, swinging slowly, listening to the crickets chirp in the garden.
A week later, we went back to the big mansion one last time.
We walked through the empty ballroom, the same one where it had all started.
The chandeliers were off.
The marble floors were cold.
It felt like a different lifetime.
Clara squeezed my hand.
“Are you sad to sell it?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “This house was never a home. It was just a building. A home is where the people you love are. And that’s our little house with the garden. That’s wherever you are.”
She smiled.
“Good,” she said. “Because I have big plans for that garden. I’m going to plant roses. And tomatoes. And maybe a little bench right by the fence where we can sit when we’re old and gray.”
I laughed, pulling her close.
“Whatever you want,” I said. “It’s all yours.”
We walked out of the mansion for the last time, closing the big front door behind us, locking away all the bad memories forever.
As we drove away, I didn’t look back.
I didn’t need to.
Everything I cared about was sitting right beside me.
Everything I’d ever wanted.
May you like
Everything I’d ever needed.
Right there.
