Chapter 7 - The Morning of the Ceremony
The sun rose over the Oakhaven Estate the next morning in a brilliant wash of amber, gold, and pale blue. There was no coastal drizzle, no threatening clouds—just crisp, perfect autumn air that made the oak leaves rustle like paper against the windowpanes.
In the bridal suite, the mood was tense enough to snap a steel cable.
Chloe had spent the entire morning refusing to look at anyone, her makeup artist working overtime to cover the dark circles under her eyes from crying half the night. Jason had tried twice to approach my father in the hallway, but Arthur had simply walked past him without breaking stride, ignoring him completely.
Down in the small staging room near the back of the chapel, Lily was getting ready.
She stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing out the folds of her yellow dress. Her silver daisy barrettes were clipped securely in her hair, catching the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows.
Mark stood leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a quiet, adoring smile. “You look like a professional flower scatterer, Bug.”
“I practiced my walk twenty times this morning,” Lily declared solemnly. “Grandpa said I have to walk slow so the daisies have time to breathe.”
“Grandpa gives excellent botanical advice,” I said, buttoning the back of her dress.
A soft knock sounded on the wooden door.
It was my father. He wore a crisp tuxedo, a fresh white carnation pinned to his lapel, and he was carrying a small, beautifully wrapped package tied with a yellow silk ribbon.
“May I come in?” Arthur asked softly.
Lily turned around immediately, her face lighting up. “Grandpa! Look, my basket is ready!”
“I see that,” Arthur smiled, walking over and kneeling down in front of her. He held out the small wrapped box. “I have a wedding gift for you, Madame Flower Girl. From a secret admirer.”
Lily took the box with both hands, carefully sliding the yellow ribbon off and lifting the lid. Inside rested a delicate silver necklace with a tiny, detailed daisy pendant—matching her barrettes perfectly.
“Oh,” she breathed out, her eyes growing wide. “Is this real silver?”
May you like
“Sterling silver,” Arthur confirmed. “To make sure everyone in the chapel knows you are the most important person in the room today.”
With Mark’s help, I fastened the delicate chain around her neck. She immediately reached up with her small fingers, touching the silver daisy pendant, her face glowing with a pride that nothing in the world could ever tarnish.
