Dante
I can’t believe Nicole and I are married.
Mrs. and Mrs. Dante Walsh. I repeat those words a few times and think it has a certain ring to it.
Sounds good. In fact, sounds fucking perfect.
My mind is reeling from what we’ve just done. What I’ve just done. But the vision of perfection passed out next to me in bed makes any niggling doubts in my mind dissipate.
She’s the one.
That’s all there is to it. She’s my destiny, and I took control of fate in the only way that made sense to me.
More than that, I did what any chivalrous knight in shining armor would have done. There’s no way I could have broken her heart and told her the truth.
The truth. What even is the truth?
She’s curled up, facing me, looking angelic as she sleeps. The white dress with its red hue complements her skin, accenting the slight tan she has and playing nicely with her scarlet-tinted lips.
Her long eyelashes flutter while she sleeps, and her hair looks like flowing chocolate, splayed across the pillow. I run my fingers through the silky strands, smoothing it down and lingering for far longer than I should.
I can’t help it, though. In just a few short days, I’ve fallen head over heels for her. Ryan has no idea what he missed out on.
But you know what? His fucking loss is my gain, and I will cherish this girl the way she deserves.
Now I just have to figure out what to tell her when she wakes up in the morning.
Hi there! I’m your husband… Yeah, I don’t think that will quite cut it. She thinks she married Ryan, and I am definitely not Ryan. She’ll know the minute she sees me without the mask.
Not that that’s a bad thing. I’ve never been happier to not be Ryan than I am today.
Perhaps I should’ve told her what a fucking asshole Ryan has been these last few days.
Maybe she deserves to know that while we were out on the town having a good time, he was fucking some chick—or three—in Rome. Who knows?
But, when I really think about it, I couldn’t bring myself to cause her that pain. It would’ve wrenched me inside out to see her hurt and sad.
Instead, I took matters into my own hands and made her my bride instead of his.
Sure, there was an amazing spark of chemistry between us, but did I really have the right to step into his place? Would she have gone through with the ceremony and her vows if I told her upfront it was me?
I lean back on the pillow, raking my hand through my hair.
I just don’t know. I’m not sorry she’s Mrs. Dante Walsh. I’m fucking thrilled.
Two days ago, I was convinced I’d never get married.
Today, I’m lying next to my gorgeous bride, debating how to tell her she married me.
Oh, how fucking humorous life can be.
My phone rings. I reluctantly tear myself away from Nicole’s side to look at the caller ID.
Fuck.
No time like the present, I guess.
I decide to leave the suite to answer the call. I don’t want her to overhear me before I’ve had the chance to explain the situation to her myself.
Closing the door behind me, I step into the hall.
“Yo,” I answer.
“Hey, bud!” I can tell Ryan’s plastered just from these two words. Loud music playing in the background tells me he’s still partying it up, despite the fact that he was supposed to get married today.
Ugh.
“What’s up?” I ask, ignoring the greeting. I really didn’t want to talk to him right now.
“How’d Nicole take the news?”
“Like you give a fuck. You stood her up.”
“Hey, listen, just because I decided not to get married doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“Sure, but you could’ve at least contacted her yourself. Instead you took the fucking cowardly way out and left her hanging. And, to boot, you left me here to pick up the pieces.” I can’t keep the budding anger out of my voice.
“Yeah, yeah, but you know, bud, I can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants. And, unfortunately, I just didn’t want to get married—yet.”
“Then why the fuck did you propose to her in the first place?” I stop trying to hide my anger.
“Why do you think, man? For her pussy, of course.”
“You what?” I try not to shout. Shouting will wake Nicole for sure.
What did the prick just say to me?
The heart wants what it wants.
Finally, a modicum of truth. I can definitely fucking relate to that sentiment.
“If you’re so upset on her behalf,” Ryan laughs at the other end, “maybe you should marry her in my place.”
Already did that.
“Ha, right…” He doesn’t need to know. He’ll find out soon enough, and I really hope he kicks himself one day in the future.
I hear a woman’s voice on the other end calling for Ryan. “Sorry, bud, gotta go. Thanks again and enjoy Venice for me!”
With that, he hangs up, and I’m left staring at my phone.
What a fucking douchebag my best friend turned out to be.
I say that, but inside, I’m thrilled because I don’t have to watch the two of them be happy together. Although, knowing Ryan, he would have suppressed her personality and passion, turning her into a shell of what she truly is.
This is by far the best thing he’s ever done for her. Now all I’ve got to do is convince my wife of this.
I laugh.
I lean back against the wall in the hallway, my mind addled with thoughts. Thoughts of Ryan, thoughts of how to tell Nicole that she’s my wife.
My wife. My wife. My wife.
God, how I love the sound of that. I’m gonna call her that every time I have the opportunity, because she’s a gift that I never expected to fall into my fucking lap. Or the canal, but I digress.
Instead of restricting her, I’m gonna let her be free…be free to explore and indulge in her passions, be free to let loose and have fun. And she’ll do it all by my side. Together, we shall conquer.
I place my hand on the doorknob and head back into the suite. I miss being near her already.
The only thing I want to do right now is be by her side. I want to watch her sleep and dream about the future we’ll have together.
I’m sure tomorrow she’ll be mad and confused, and she may even ask for an annulment.
Not that I intend to give her one.
I plan to keep her by my side forever.
I lie back down next to her, wrap my arm around her waist, and marvel at how good she feels in my arms.
I let my eyes fall shut.
The rest can fucking wait ‘til tomorrow. I’ll figure it all out.
Before I fall asleep, I notice her roll onto her side and throw one arm over me. Her fingers rest on my lower abdomen, and suddenly, I feel as if I won’t be able to get to sleep.
Without disturbing her, I roll toward her and lean forward.
I can’t resist. Those lips are just begging to be kissed.
Ever so lightly, I let my mouth touch hers. I cover her in tiny butterfly kisses.
A soft moan escapes her lips. The sound warms my heart.
Finally, I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes.
In the morning, I’ll talk to her. In the morning, we’ll plan the rest of our lives together.
In the morning…