The Secret Fiancée: Chapter 19
“Honey, are you ready?” Mom shouts. “We’re going to be late for your dress fitting!”
I rush down the stairs, nerves making me sick to my stomach. Everything is moving so fast, and I’m not sure how to handle it.
Since we agreed to keep our marriage a secret, we opted to just get the formalities out of the way as soon as possible, but that means there are only three weeks left until I marry Lexington Windsor, and it all seems so surreal. I feel like a spectator in some play, actors moving all around me while I just get in the way.
“Hope you don’t mind if I join, after all?” Dad asks, his gaze conflicted as he stands by mom’s side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.
I grin and shake my head as I walk into his embrace. “Of course not, Dad. You know I wanted you there.”
He sighs, reluctance crossing his face as he bends down to hug me tightly. Mom joins in, the three of us cuddled together for a few moments. It’s odd how my impending wedding suddenly made things feel so precarious. I moved back home to make the wedding prep easier, and I couldn’t be happier with that decision. I know I’m not losing my parents, but somehow, it feels like I am, like things will never be the same again once I’m married.
Dad tenses when the doorbell rings, and I step back as he opens the door to a vaguely familiar face. “Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis,” the man says, smiling at my parents before nodding at me. “Raya, isn’t it? It’s a true honor to meet you all today. My name is Ares Windsor. I’m Lexington’s oldest brother.” My eyes widen in shock when I realize who he is — he’s Raven’s husband.
He shakes hands with both of my parents, his expression sincere. “I was told that you’re going dress shopping today, and I was hoping you’d allow me to drive you to my wife’s boutique. Wedding dresses are my wife’s specialty, and she’d be honored if you’d let her design your dress as a wedding gift, Raya.”
His words render me speechless, and all I manage is a weak nod. Raven Windsor wants to design my wedding dress? I suppose it makes sense, but it’s just a little… surreal. Ares smiles, his face lighting up in relief, like he genuinely thought there might be a chance anyone would ever say no to that offer.
“I know that champagne is often involved at dress fittings, and I’d love for you to enjoy your afternoon without having to worry about driving,” Ares says, holding up his car keys.
Dad looks reluctant, and from the corner of my eye, I see Mom squeeze his hand in warning. “That would be lovely, Ares,” she says, ushering me out the door.
I’d been nervous before, but now I’m anxious. From the moment the engagement was finalized, my emotions have been in constant turmoil, and the pace at which things are moving is just making it worse.
“Just a word of warning,” Ares says as he gets behind the wheel. Dad is seated next to him while Mom and I are sitting in the back of one of Windsor Motors’ most expensive supercars. I smile involuntarily as Dad glances around appreciatively, his fingers trailing over the smooth leather interior. No one appreciates a good car more than my father does, and I can tell he’s impressed.
“I think my sister may be there, and if you’re really unlucky, you’ll find that throughout the afternoon, all of my sisters-in-law will find completely random excuses to drop by and meet you. They’re all very excited to welcome you to the family.”
My stomach twists nervously at the thought of Sierra Windsor. She’s a real estate magnate, and one of the youngest and most successful women in her industry. She’s known to be smart, fearless, and ruthless, and I suspect she’ll be cold and reserved. “Thank you for letting me know,” I tell him, hating the way my voice shakes.
Ares shoots me a reassuring look through the rearview mirror, his eyes the exact same shade of green as Lex’s. “I know it’s all a lot, but make sure you enjoy every moment as best as you can. You only get married once, after all. Vow renewals aren’t uncommon in our family, but if you can, make sure the memories you make at your legal ceremony are ones you’ll want to hold on to.”
Dad huffs. “That remains to be seen,” he says, his tone sharp. He twists in his seat to face me. “There is nothing wrong with getting a divorce,” he reassures me. “Your happiness matters above absolutely anything else. If you ever want to get married again, you can.”
A startled laugh escapes my lips, and I reach for Dad to squeeze his shoulder. “I know, Daddy. Don’t you worry.”
Ares merely grins, relaxed confidence written all over his face as he parks right in front of Raven’s boutique. I stare up at it with wonder, taking in the white exterior with its pink peonies and roses all around it. It’s beautiful. Whimsical but classy, and entirely out of my price range.
Ares leads us deep into the store, and I lower my head, feeling thoroughly humbled by the splendor all around me. “Hi, Cupcake,” he calls, his eyes lighting up the second Raven comes into view. He opens his arms wide, and she grins as she hugs him. He squeezes tightly, his eyes falling closed for a moment, and a pang of longing hits me hard. That’s what I thought I’d have — true love, like my parents, like Ares and Raven.
He presses a kiss to her forehead and steps back to introduce us. Raven’s eyes light up when she spots me standing behind Ares, and she pushes against his chest, making him step aside as she rushes toward me. Before I realize what’s happening, she’s wrapped me in a tight hug, nearly knocking the wind out of me.
This is Raven Windsor, supermodel and famous designer, and she’s hugging me. “It’s so good to meet you,” she says, leaning back a little. She smiles so genuinely that I can’t help but smile back.
“It’s really good to meet you too,” I manage to say. “An honor, really.”
She shakes her head dismissively and turns to greet my parents, who both look as shellshocked as I am. Behind her, members of her staff walk in holding champagne and canapes, and both Mom and Dad are seated in comfy chairs as Raven explains the process.
First, she’ll take my measurements, and then she’ll let me try on a few dresses of my choosing to ensure we’re on the same page in terms of style and fit. After that, we’ll go into the design process.
We’ve only just about wrapped up the measurements when the store door opens and closes loudly, and I jump in surprise. “We’re not late, are we?” I hear a woman say.
“I told you over and over again to hurry up,” another woman replies, sounding worried. “But you still insisted on wrapping that cookie eleventy billion times until you got it perfect. We don’t even know if she likes cookies!”
“Girls,” Raven snaps, her voice stern. She doesn’t sound particularly surprised, just a little annoyed. “What do you two think you’re doing?”
I tense just as two women turn the corner and come into view. They look apologetic, and one of them is holding the biggest bouquet filled with an assortment of yellow flowers, while the other is holding a small pink box with a truly excessive number of ribbons on it.
My heart begins to race when I realize that they’re Celeste and Sierra Windsor. Celeste and her husband, Zane, are hoteliers and the owners of the world’s most luxurious resorts. A while ago, I read an article in The Herald that said Zane bought a private island just for his wife. I remember thinking back then that they lived in a whole different world, and now I’m somehow supposed to fit in with these highly accomplished women. I don’t see how I ever could.
“Hi, Raya! I’m Celeste.” She tips her head to the red-faced woman standing next to her. “And this is Sierra. We’re really sorry to interrupt, but Lex wanted me to give you this.” She steps forward and hands me the bouquet with the sweetest smile on her face. “I doubt he’d ever admit it, but he spent hours yesterday walking through my husband’s greenhouse and observatory, cutting each flower in your bouquet by hand before binding them all together.”
I take the bouquet with trembling hands and murmur my thanks as I pull the flowers to my chest, my heart aching. The thought of Lex deliberating over which flowers to choose and how they’d look together makes me instantly feel conflicted. Did he mean it when he told me he’d try to be a good husband? I find it hard to believe, and I can’t get over the fact that he orchestrated every interaction we’ve ever had. Even this seems oddly calculated — sending flowers when he knows his family and mine would be there to witness it.
“This is for you too,” Sierra says, handing me the small pink box with trembling hands. “I made it. It’s not quite the same as my grandmother’s, as you’ll soon learn, but I’m the family’s cookie connoisseur, and I can guarantee that this cookie isn’t half bad.”
“Thank you so much,” I tell her, grinning from ear to ear. “I love cookies.”
Her eyes light up, and she sighs — seemingly in relief. I seem to have passed a test of some sort, because she leans in and wraps an arm around me, side hugging me. “Welcome to the family, Raya. I’m so excited to have another sister. You have no idea.”
“We all are,” Celeste says, smiling sweetly. My heart warms as I smile back at her, a spark of hope that I thought I’d doused reigniting. Maybe this marriage won’t be as loveless as I’d feared — it just won’t be the kind of love I was hoping for.