Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (45 page)

Turning to him, she saw apprehension on his handsome face. His lips were a bit tight and his eyes were slightly narrowed. Only she could detect his quiet distress. It was indicated by a slightly raised brow.

This time, it was he who could only whisper.

“So?” he asked. “Is it a yes?”

“Absolutely,” she said.

He began to pick her up, intending to carry her. She stopped him, placing her hand on his arm.

“No,” she protested.

“No?”

Confused, he unconsciously held her closer to him.

“Which is it, yes or no?”

With a loving smile, she pushed against his chest, playfully.

“No. I’m not going to let you carry me. I’m fine,” she told him.

“Aria…”

“No,” she halted him. “This is a beautiful dress.
My
wedding dress.”

Leaning over to kiss his cheek, she smoothed her hand over the ivory with blue details.

“I want our guests to see how beautiful I look…
for you
. I want you to wait for me at the porch. You aren’t strong enough…” She placed her finger to his lips. “…and I want my mother to walk with me,” she said.

Explaining, she placed her hand at his cheek.

“She helped us get to this day,” Aria said, lovingly observing at him. “I want her to walk with me…
to you
…”

Stopping for a moment, he thoughtfully looked into her eyes. She returned his gaze with a more dazzling display of blues than he had seen in all the time they’d been together. She felt his chest rise as he sucked in his breath.

“…to my husband.”

Those three words. They sunk into his mind, and her inference of his new position caused him to break into a wide smile. He leaned into her, his forehead to the top of her head, where he released the breath he’d been holding.

“I like the sound of that,” he said, his voice full of emotion.

What event that was about to happen finally hit her, and Aria’s joy couldn’t be contained. It reflected on the outside, filled her from within and radiated throughout the room. She threw her arms tightly around his neck, hugging him excitedly.

“So do I,” she squealed.

The next few moments were a blur. She didn’t concern herself with anything as Declan continued to orchestrate the events. Within moments, Jeannie was at her side. Touching her daughter’s face, she moved one tiny curl away from her cheek.

Aria was beyond words. She nodded to her mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She wanted to commit every moment of this day to memory. They’d become
their
memories.

“He’s a good man, Aria,” Jeannie assured her daughter. “He’s always loved you…”

“I know, Mom,” Aria answered, “…I know.” ♪

Carla Bruni’s “You belong to me” began to play. This would be their song, now and forever.

Declan stood at the doorway, strong and proud. Carter stood at his side with Blake beside him. As Aria and Jeannie slowly walked toward them, she saw Carter reach an arm up, placing it on his brother’s shoulder. Soft sniffling could be heard, and Aria saw Paige, Katherine, and Aimee passing tissues.

As Jeannie reached the doorway, she placed Aria’s hand into Declan’s large one. She held on to his arm, and as he leaned down, she then kissed him on the cheek.

Aria couldn’t take her eyes from Declan. He was everything she’d ever wanted—everything she’d ever needed. He was the complete opposite of her, but he balanced her life in the most wonderful and profound way. She had no doubt that he was the man for her.

He walked with her, very slowly, toward the porch the one where they’d first met. As she walked through the doorway, he directed her attention to a worn, green Adirondack chair sitting on the porch. He had filled it with pillows for her comfort, and as he walked her over to it, she began to cry, realizing what he’d done for her.

“Daddy’s chair?” she whispered, looking up at him.

He nodded, noting her tears.

“I thought you’d want something of him with you today,” he said, as he used his thumb to tenderly brush away a tear.

She nodded her approval at his thoughtfulness, as emotions overwhelmed her.

He came to sit beside her on the porch, in front of the minister to take their vows. Behind him, she saw Uncle Bill and Aunt Thelma smiling, with tears in their eyes. He had thought of everything and everyone. He even placed a small lap blanket over her.

“This was your dad’s too,” he said. “Your mom brought it for you.”

Aria looked at her mother as she ran her fingers over the soft, knitted cotton. She mouthed the words,
“Thank you. I love you…”
to her mother.

“And this”—he held up a beautiful, vintage ring— “was my Grandmother’s. She gave it to my Mother, and mom gave it to Carter—for Lacey…”

She saw many things in his handsome face, but mostly love. Past tragedies and hurt had become a foundation for this—their beginning.

Lifting his hand to her cheek, he caressed it. His thumb continued to catch a renegade tear, and he lightly kissed the tips of her lips, not waiting for a suitable time in the ceremony.

“I’ve been all over the world, Aria,” he said, never taking his eyes from hers, “and still, there’s no other sight that takes my breath away the way that you do.”

“I want you with me, morning, night, and every moment in between. Whatever comes our way, I’ll forever love you, beautiful…”

A huge smile filled his face. The one that had made him millions, but it was what he said next that made Aria smile with joy;

“Let’s do this…”

♪♪

♪
Once Upon A Dream (Maleficent) – Lana Del Rey

The outfit was bland, totally unfashionable, and completely beneath her. These accommodations were absolutely unacceptable, and she’d be complaining to the management. It had been days since she’d ordered better room service, fresher linens, and her own clothes to be brought to her. She’d be firing her attorney and getting a new one. There were many out there just waiting for work, and her money spoke the language well.

Hearing the click of the handle, she turned in the direction of the door.

Hmm…I can work with this
,
she thought.

“
Hello
,” she said, seductively. “I’m Marisol Franzi. Who are you?” she crooned to the homely gentleman to get his attention.

He placed the tray of food down and turned to leave.

Is he ignoring me?

“Hey! Did you hear me?” she called. “I said I’m Marisol Franzi!”

The gentleman still paid her no attention, going about his business. The door opened and closed, clicking again as it locked behind him.

Who the hell does he think he is?

She strode to the door, banging her fist.

“Hello! I need some help in here. The accommodations are not to my liking, and I would like to speak to someone!”

No one responded, causing her temper to rise.

Marisol raised up on tiptoe, looking through the opening in the door.

“Do you hear me?” she asked.

Again, no reply.

“Hey! Who the hell is out there? Who do I talk to if I want better service?”

Again, nothing.

She began to beat her fists on the door, pummeling as hard as she could. She was furious with Marchelle for not yet bringing her a change of clothing, and livid that these peons did not seem to recognize her. Did they not know who she was—or who she knew? If they knew what was good for them, they would treat her with respect and dignity. If they didn’t, there would be a hefty price to pay. She would, however, give them fair warning. If they didn’t heed it, the consequences would be the result of their actions.

“What the hell is wrong with you people? Don’t you know who I am?”

♪

“I AM MARISOL FRANZI!”

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Warmly,

D.D.

Carter Sinclair

a man in control until…

The tragic death of his wife

His brother’s crippling accident

A blamed wrongful death

And

A woman who makes him crazy…

Coming soon…