Lovely Trigger (47 page)

“What’s going on?” I asked him, instantly suspicious by his smile.
 
It was a sweet, bland smile, which made me think he was up to something.
 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” I told him.

“Oh Danika.”
 
His soft voice was full of reproach.
 
It was almost…comforting, as though nothing had changed since our last meeting.
 

He was carrying a briefcase, something I’d never seen him do before.
 
I was instantly suspicious.
 

“What’s in the case?” I asked him.
 
I automatically thought it must be for some kind of magic trick.
 
That was, after all, what he did.
 
“Don’t tell me.
 
Magic, right?”
 

The sweet smile got bigger, lost the bland, and became mischievous.
 
“You could say that, I suppose.”
 

What the hell did that mean?
 

He moved immediately into my living room, making himself at home on my sofa.
 
He set the briefcase on my coffee table, popping it open.
 
He took out a small laptop that looked ridiculous as he opened it and started typing with those huge hands of his.
 

I moved in front of him, one hand on my hip, the other pointing to the small black velvet bag in his case.
 
It
reeked of a magic trick.
 

He just smiled, shaking his head.
 
“It’s a surprise.
 
Let me pull something up on here, and then I’ll show you.”
 

I moved around him to look over his shoulder, trying to make out what he was looking at on his screen.
 

“Step one:
 
Pick an adoption agency.
 
I already found one.
 
I hope you don’t mind me just deciding.
 
I’ve been doing nothing but researching it for the past week, so trust me when I say I’m making an informed decision.”
 

My heart was trying to pound its way out of my chest, but I managed to keep my voice calm.
 
“What on earth are you talking about?”
 

“Step two:
 
Choose the country of adoption.
 
I’ve thought this over a lot, and I was thinking, and tell me if I’m wrong, that it doesn’t really matter.
 
But I heard that the process goes faster if you choose a country yourself, so I went to the liberty of putting them all in a hat.”
 

He bent forward, plucking the black velvet pouch out of the briefcase and pulling it open until there was just enough room for my hand to fit in.
 
“I think you should do the honors.”
 

I put my hand in, mostly because it was so surreal that I couldn’t quite believe what was going on.
 
I pulled out a small piece of paper that only said
China
.
 

“China.
 
Perfect.
 
Now that that’s out of the way, Step three:
 
Do a shit-ton of paperwork.
 
I’ve heard that part is a headache, but it’ll be well worth it.”
 

“Tristan—”
 

“Oh, wait, I forgot something important.
 
Reach into the bag again.”
 

I don’t know why, but I just did it, though I knew we needed to talk more than he needed to continue with this.
 

Whereas before my hands had skimmed over several small pieces of paper, now it held only one thing, at the very bottom.
 
He hadn’t so much as twitched, that I could tell, since the last time I’d reached in.
 

I yanked my hand back like it had been burned the second I felt what was inside.
 
I knew what it was instantly.
 

I started shaking my head as Tristan started nodding that yes, it was just what I thought it was.
 

He got down on one knee in front of me.
 

I covered my face with my hands.

He started laughing.
 
“I learned my lesson the first time.
 
Notice my clever location is very much private.”
 

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice muffled by my own hands.
 

“You know,” his deep voice was affectionately amused.

He moved my arm a bit, but not to take my hands from my face, as I originally thought.
 

Instead, he covered the spot on my chest just over my heart.
 
He kept it there for a few beats, and then he was shifting, standing, then pulling me against him, pushing my face down on his chest with one hand, the other moving to cover my chest again.
 

“Do you hear that?” he uttered quietly.
 

“Hear what?” I whispered back.
   

“It never stopped, did it?” he asked softly.
 
“All this time.
 
Years.
 
And my heart is still beating in time with yours, still working, above all else, to keep that even pace.
 
Fight it all you want, but even our bodies betray our feelings.”

As though in direct contradiction, my heart tried to pound its way out of my chest at his words.
 

I clenched my eyes shut tight, clenched everything as I spoke.
 
“I can’t have children.”

“Oh, sweetheart.
 
You haven’t been paying attention.
 
Did you think the way I felt about you would change because of that?
 
I am not that guy.
 
I am the guy who has been in love with you for over six fucking years.
 
I am the guy that has thought about you every day.
 
I
miss
you
every day.
 
What happened—what we lost together—breaks my heart, but it doesn’t change anything.
 
I still want to marry you, and I still want you to be the mother of my children.”

“Tristan, I can’t—”

“It is a technicality.
 
We can’t conceive, so we will adopt.”

I started sobbing.

“You know, if you get hysterical every time I propose to you, it’s going to start to hurt my feelings.”

I laughed, then sobbed harder.
   

“Give me my family back.
 
Marry me.
 
Be my wife again.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, taking the ring out of the bag and putting it on my finger.
 

“Yes,” I finally told him, holding on for dear life.

He stroked my hair, his eyes closing, a look of utter peace overtaking his face.
 

“I missed you
so much
,” I sobbed, then burrowed into his chest.
 

“Never again.”

I waited until I was calm.
 
“I love you,” I said quietly and vehemently.
   

I heard the smile in his voice.
 
“Love you more.”
 

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

DANIKA

To say that our wedding got the royal treatment was a huge compliment to all things royal.
 
The moment James got wind that we were even considering using his resort to say our vows, the diamond encrusted red carpet was rolled out, and the rest was sort of history.
 

The ceremony itself was held in the Cavendish Hotel & Casino’s world-renowned atrium.
 
The atrium was a huge draw for the casino, so the fact that they roped the entire thing off for three hours just for our vows, was huge.
 
In fact, I’d never heard of such a thing.
 
And what was even more extravagant, James had an entirely new all white garden arrangement put together just for us.
 

I confronted James directly when I heard a rumor about how much the new arrangement had cost.
 

He’d just smiled charmingly, and diffused the situation with ease.
 
“We do these floral arrangements all the time, and they’re often expensive.
 
We won’t take it all down right after the wedding.
 
We’ll make full use of it.”
 

I was appeased, because, grand gesture though it was, at least I could be sure it wasn’t wasteful.
 

I told all of the bridesmaids that I wasn’t wearing a strapless gown when we went shopping for my dress, but by the end of the day I’d found my dream dress, and lo and behold, it was strapless, and it was just perfect.
 

It was ivory but the fitted, elongated bodice was so heavily beaded and exquisitely embroidered that the top looked silver.
 
It had a curved neckline that made my curves apparent, but didn’t give too much of a show.
 
It was undecided what was more of a showstopper, that beaded bodice or the tiered ruffle silk organza skirt with a chapel train.
 

It was the most elegant of princess gowns, and I adored it.
   

I’d tried on twenty dresses, and the instant I walked out in that one, everyone agreed that it was the one.
 

The bridesmaids wore white floor-length lace gowns with pale yellow sashes.
 

Tristan wore a classic crisp black tux, with a white shirt and tie.
 
The groomsmen wore the same, but with yellow ties.
 

Frankie and Estella, arm in arm, were the first of the bridal party to walk down the aisle.
 

As the maid of honor, Frankie had tried hard to get me a female stripper for the bachelorette party.
 
She’d only given up on the idea when I’d pointed out that it was clearly a Homer gift.
 

It hadn’t been a real bachelorette party, anyway.
 
We’d combined with the guys and James had wound up throwing us a party at his house.
 
I thought the guys had gotten the better deal, as there were two hot lesbians making out for half of it.
   

Bianca and James were next.
 
They didn’t walk arm in arm, but with one of his hands at her hip, the other in the loop in her choker.
 

Next followed Lana and Akira.
 
Lana had given birth just five weeks before, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at her.
 
She was one of those lucky bitches that bounced back right away.
 

Even as they walked, I saw them both steal a peek at the row where Tutu sat, holding their new son, Kaiko.
 
I’d gotten to hold him earlier.
 
He was calm and already clearly took after his father in looks, except for his blue eyes, though it was too soon to tell if those would change.

Dahlia and Adair were next.
 
They’d eloped about a year prior, and seemed to be doing well.
 
Stephan and Javier walked down together.
 
Todd and Trinity, two of Tristan’s very close support group from rehab, walked next.
 
Cory walked down alone, since the numbers were uneven, and Kenny paired up with Bev, since Jerry was walking me.
 

Bev gave Tristan her blessing after one tense lunch at her favorite Italian restaurant.
 
The mob place.
 
And while Jerry and me watched as Bev interrogated Tristan for a solid hour, a few tables away from the godfather, I’d of sworn she was the scariest person in the room.
 

But it had all turned out well, and she hadn’t hesitated to join the wedding party.
   

It was a very long aisle to walk and a beautiful one.
 
Big heaping bouquets of every white flower imaginable lined the pathway, dwarfed by colossal white vases filled to brimming with even more painstakingly arranged bouquets.

I clutched Jerry’s arm hard, but that was for emotional support.
 
I didn’t need to use him as a crutch.
 
After having partial knee replacement surgery over five months ago, my gait was smoother than it had been since the accident.
 
I’d never be taking up ballroom again, but I could take a turn or two around the dance floor now, which would surely come in handy later.
   

It would never be perfect, but it was better and close enough for me.

The minute we began to walk, a soft guitar began to play, followed by Tristan’s voice, singing our song.
 
Incidentally, it’d been the biggest hit off their latest album.
   

I met him and his devastating smile at the altar, and we said our vows again.
 

I didn’t hope, but
knew,
that this time would be different from the first.
 

ONE YEAR LATER

It was the longest flight I’d ever taken.
 
Well, at least it felt that way.
 
I’d actually taken the exact same route twice before, but this time was different.
 

This time that flight felt like the longest thirteen hours of my life.
 

It didn’t help that it felt like Tristan wasn’t even sitting next to me.
 
When booking the flights, the idea of first class was all well and good.
 
A rip off money wise, but I’d been excited to experience it again, as we had on the first two trips.
 

At the moment, I’d rather have been in coach sitting next to him, instead of in an isolated pod, feet away.
 
We couldn’t even touch.
 
The best we could manage was to talk through a lowered partition.