15
Miguel handed me the wedding dress and gently guided me toward the fitting room bed.
In the mirror, my face looked a little pale, lips void of color, but the gown was breathtaking. It softened my features, made me look almost ethereal.
Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, his warm breath brushing softly against my ear.
“You like it that much? Then let’s wear this one when we get married, okay?”
My ears turned red at his words, and I answered quietly, “Okay. Miguel, help me unzip the back. I have work later…”
“Okay,” he replied in a low voice, unzipping the dress slowly before planting gentle kisses along my spine.
The touch made me shiver. I instinctively leaned forward to avoid the sensation, but he pulled me back into his arms.
“Don’t move…” he whispered, voice husky with desire.
After our intimate moment, I carefully folded the wedding dress and placed it back in its box.
Later, Saoirse suddenly recalled having seen a similar design at Miguel’s home.
“Brother Miguel, I don’t really like any of these. How about I just wear the one you have at your
house?”
Miguel snapped out of his daze and answered without thinking, “No.”
100
After more than ten hours of long-distance travel, I followed Marcus as we stepped off his private jet onto Canadian soil.
The Murphy family had long stood at the pinnacle of elite society, and after coming of age, Marcus had boldly expanded their empire overseas.
Outside a European-style villa, Marcus suddenly halted.
He seemed uncharacteristically tense. “Are you sure you want to live with me?”
That man who ruled boardrooms with dominance now had his fingers curled so tightly that they’d turned pale.
His eyes drifted toward the blooming roses, and the tips of his ears flushed red.
I let out a soft laugh. “Of course.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, a sense of peace quietly settled in my chest.
We walked along the cobbled garden path, and an odd sensation stirred deep within me.
It wasn’t until I stood before the bedroom, its walls painted in soft pink, that everything fell into place.
This villa had been recreated, down to the smallest detail, to mirror the one I grew up in.
The rose bushes by the gate were my mother’s favorites.
Every morning back then, I would wake to the sight of her gently pruning the flowers outside my
window.
After Giselle married into the family, that flowerbed had been torn apart by Saoirse, its blossoms crushed beneath her heels.
“Do you like it?”
Marcus noticed my silence and quickly spoke up, voice uncertain yet gentle. “I remembered it looked like this when I visited your house. If I got anything wrong, just tell me.”
“Or if you think it brings back painful memories, I can tear it down and remake it however you like…”
He rambled nervously, like a boy afraid of doing something wrong, and my eyes stung with unshed tears.
So I could still be loved like this. I could still be cherished.
Since losing my mother, it had been so long since I’d felt anything close.
When I finally opened my mouth, my voice trembled. “No… I really like it.” “I just… really miss my mom…”
