Chapter 6 - The Rose on Long IslandOver three hundred prominent business leaders, supreme court judges, corporate partners, and close friends gathered around white-linen tables set up along the stone patio, enjoying fine food and live acoustic music.
Mara stood near the marble balustrade wearing a breathtaking, floor-length ivory silk wedding gown designed to celebrate every curve of her figure. Her dark hair fell in glossy waves over her shoulders, her hazel eyes shining with absolute, unshakeable happiness.
Down on her left hand rested an eight-carat flawless emerald-cut diamond engagement ring set beside the Whitaker family signet band.
Milo, Mason, Max, and Micah—wearing matching miniature black tuxedos—ran across the manicured green lawn, holding wooden sailboat models I had crafted for them, laughing happily as they played near the stone fountain with a golden retriever puppy.
I walked out onto the terrace wearing an immaculate black tuxedo, stepping up behind Mara, wrapping my broad, warm arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against my solid chest.
I pressed a sweet, lingering kiss against her temple, my gray-blue eyes shining with an absolute, unshakeable devotion.
"What are you thinking about, my queen?" I whispered softly into her ear.
Mara looked out over the vast, sparkling blue waters of Long Island Sound stretching before us into the unbroken horizon, feeling a deep, weightless peace settle into every corner of her soul.
"I was thinking about the restaurant restroom," Mara answered softly, turning in my arms to rest her hands against my broad chest. "When four little boys washed their hands and asked a stranger why he was copying them."
May you like
I offered a rare, breathtaking smile—a look of pure, eternal love that lit up my severe face.
"They weren't asking a stranger, Mara," I promised, leaning down to press my lips softly, fiercely against hers in a deep, unhurried kiss. "They were calling their father home."
