Endless Love by Bianca Borell

Chapter Thirty-One

BRIA

I am on a mission with a high degree of difficulty and one that raises many questions.

Why are you wearing pajama pants, Bria? Are you cold? I’ll turn up the heat.

The best was when he asked why I locked the door to the bathroom. So, I covered myself in bubbles. Not even X-rays could penetrate them. By the end of the week, I’m exhausted, but happy I managed to keep Damien from seeing me fully undressed all week.

Tonight, we’re spending the night apart—I’m with the girls, he’s with the boys—since neither of us wanted a traditional bachelor or bachelorette party. I finish applying my makeup when Damien steps inside the room, draws me into his arms, and then places his chin in the valley of my neck.

“Why did we agree to do this again?” he pouts.

I extract myself from his embrace and change into a simple black cocktail dress while Damien puts on a casual jacket and black jeans. Our friends and family arrive right on time thankfully. With the hunger in Damien’s eyes me, I couldn’t have stopped him from undressing me this time.

We part ways with a long kiss while Sophia drags me away.

The girls take me to a club downtown, and before we enter, Sarah puts a wedding veil on my head. I try to protest, but her eyebrows rise in a challenge halt me. The girls unbutton their jackets and all three wear black T-shirts with shimmering white “Bridesmaid” printed on the back. Inside the club, “Bride to Be” balloons hang in our corner and everyone who passes by stops to congratulate me, and I catch myself smiling every time. I’m having so much fun, I even ignore the three guards accompanying us as they keep their distance. Still, it’s hard to forget I need them in the first place.

“I can’t believe you fooled my brother for a week. You’re a master in disguise.” She bows, and we laugh.

“The more I tried to keep my clothes on, the more he wanted to peel them off me.”

Both Sarah and Chloe snort laugh. It’s everything but funny.

“I can almost picture my brother when he sees it. He will lose his mind.”

“I’m counting on that. How are you, Chloe? You’re pretty quiet.”

“Filip . . . he’s pushing to get back together.”

She sighs, resting her elbow on the table and her face in her palm, and I ask, “How do you feel about it?” Great, I sound like my therapist.

“I haven’t decided. He said I have time this weekend to figure out what I want, and he’ll respect my decision.”

Sophia rolls her eyes so far back just the white remains, and says, “Such a prick. Sorry, Bria, but he is one.” To everyone’s surprise, Chloe defends him. She has it bad, and Sarah and I exchange a knowing look.

“He tries, day in and day out, and even though I hate what he did, I’m getting weaker. We spent this entire week together, eating and talking and watching movies. I tortured him with all the sappy ones I could find. We even watched Frozen. I thought a movie for family and children would scare him off. And then he cried when the sun melted Olaf.”

Sophia spills her drink, her entire face beet red from laughter. She laughs so hard she hiccups, and I almost fall from the chair. When we calm ourselves, Chloe adds, “He was the perfect gentleman too, but I’m afraid.”

I stare at Sophia, her mind already concocting ideas to torment my brother with his Frozen liking, surely, and I place my hand on Chloe’s.

“In life, there are no guarantees. It’s good until it’s bad and vice versa. But if you’re lucky enough to connect with someone, that’s special and rare. Whatever makes your skin prickle, your heart beat faster, your mind deprive you of sleep because it feels too good to be awake is something to hold on to and it’s worth the risk.”

She leans in her seat and drags her lower lip through her teeth.

“I want him in my life, always kind of wanted him even though I never admitted it. I love being with him, the time we spend together as if we’re in a world of our own. I love the way he seems to have eyes only for me, the way he challenges me. He makes me feel like I’m beautiful, desired, and unique.”

“Because you are, and he’s not blind,” Sophia interjects, eyeing me as if she’s crazy. Yes, I guess her mirror is broken.

“He’s the only one to make me feel this way. I remember when I first saw him, he wasn’t even my type, but there was something about him that pulled me in.”

“The answer is in your heart, Chloe. Quiet your mind and hear what that tiny voice inside you has to say.”

“As if it’s that easy,” Sophia says, and both share a nod. I give up. Their lives, their choices.

At eleven-thirty, we say our goodbyes. Tomorrow is a big day. I call Damien, and the sound of his deep voice rolls down my spine, turning me into a babbling mess.

“Hi, baby.”

“Are you on your way home?”

“They already informed you I am,” I say, and he makes a sexy sound in the back of his throat.

“It has its perks.”

“Don’t get used to this. Are you nervous?”

“I’m marrying the woman I love, the one I have always wanted to take my name. Not nervous, I’m just overexcited and eager to call you my wife. I have waited a long time for this day.”

My lips curve into a smile as I let his words sink into my heart.

“We’ll be married tomorrow,” I say, eager for the night to end sooner.

“No cold feet?” he asks in a playful mode.

“Over something I believe I was destined to do? No, not even one bit.”

“Are you going to tell me the story behind the long pants this last week?”

“My lips are sealed, my today fiancé and tomorrow husband.”

“I’ll get my answer one day.”

“You will. I’m home. Love you like crazy. See you at the altar. I’ll be the one wearing white.”

“It’s hilarious at times how not funny you can be. See you tomorrow, love. Dream of me.”

“Every second of every day and night.”

“Bria?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be the one at the altar waiting to marry you.” I smile to myself. He can be corny too.

“I’m sure I’ll spot you in the crowd. I hope I just find the right church.”

“Bria . . .” I love to drive him mad.

“Even if I were blind, I would still find you.”

“You tend to smell me.”

“Shut up.” I giggle, and his voice turns to that warm, dreamy one.

“Sleep well, love.”

I hang up and clutch my phone to my heart, all these emotions warming me from within.

To my surprise, I sleep well. When I open my eyes the next morning, there are countless vases full of beautiful red and white roses, and from every one, a note hangs. I scramble up, reading them through watery eyes.

I love you, Bria, you’re beyond beautiful, thank you for loving me.

I worship the ground you walk on. You amaze me.

My heart is yours, thank you for being mine.

I can finally call you my wife.

Without you, there’s nothing, with you there is a reason for everything.

Until the very last thump, my heart will always beat for you.

The door to my room opens, and my mother pauses, awe transforming her delicate features.

“That boy. I have never seen a man love a woman more. But now it’s time to make you into a bride.”

I rush straight into my mother’s arms, embracing her for a few minutes, silently crying. When we pull away, we put ourselves together. The morning turns into a whirlwind with too many people for my liking helping me dress and do my makeup and hair.

I catch the final results in my reflection in the mirror, feeling beautiful. My hair is down in loose curls, giving me a romantic look. Deep purple, smoky makeup paints my eyes, and pinkish nude tones color my lips.

This is it, and I struggle with emotions threatening to take the form of tears, but I suppress them. I don’t want to ruin my makeup.

My parents step inside, looking stunning—my mother in a round neck, light gray designer dress, and my father in his custom-made suit, with a light gray tie to match my mother—both the definition of class and elegance. Pride and love shine in their eyes, and it’s difficult to keep my emotions in check. Alex and Quinn battle their own emotions as they pull me into a long, tight embrace.

Everyone stops snapping pictures of me when my mother announces we must go, and I breathe relieved. Sitting between both my fathers in the old, black, timeless Rolls Royce has an instant calming effect.

“Nervous?” my father asks.

“Just a little. But I can’t wait to say yes.” I grin, and he clasps my hand in his.

“I’m happy your dream is finally coming true. I heard you have been daydreaming about it for years.”

We smile at each other as Quinn’s mouth opens and closes, his Adam’s apple bobs, too emotional even to start a conversation. When the car pulls in front of the church, I place my hand on my heart, both trying to still its errant beating and prepare it for another avalanche of feelings.

With my dads on either side of me, I enter the church. An angelic choir sings “Ave Maria” vibrating not only through the old walls but also through me.

Bunches of white roses decorate the interior, and chandeliers hang above me. Everything ceases the moment my eyes find Damien. When our eyes connect, my heart locks with his. I approach the man of my dreams, my soon-to-be husband, and the man I get to grow old with, as he waits for me. I reach the altar, and Damien takes my shaking hand in his trembling one. We glance at each other, lost to the spell of this moment.