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CHAPTER 17
Grayson
Ifelt the uncertainty biting at me as I watched Stef putting on a brave face throughout the photo session. It was clear that Esme knew something was off, judging by the way she was shooting her concerned glances. But just the fact that she had said nothing meant we’d hidden the severity of Stef’s condition. Mission accomplished there, I guess.
No one else seemed to notice but me. I noticed everything about her. The tension in her shoulders, the way she closed her eyes now and then, sucking in air. The way her bridesmaid’s dress clung to every curve.Fuck, don’t do that. She’s sick.Truth be told, if I did manage to get Stef upstairs to bed, all I’d do is make sure she stayed there for a week, sleeping.
“Alright, everyone. That’s a wrap for now. I’ll be moving around inside, getting more candid shots, but you’re off the hook for these formal pictures.”
“Thank fuck for that,” Stef whispered.
I held my arm out for her and as she slipped her arm through mine, said, “You can sit for the next hour, at least.”
“That’s something.”
The moment we arrived at the head table, and I saw the place settings, I swore under my breath. Esme and Wolfe were sitting together, obviously, with her three sisters and brother next to her and me at the end. Stef was on the other side of Wolfe, with Rhett sitting next to her.
I saw the moment Stef realized and the way she raised her anxious eyes to me had me making a snap decision. Going to the end of the table, I grabbed my place card and swapped it with Rhett’s.
“Hey! What the fuck?”
Under different circumstances, Rhett’s indignation would have made me laugh. “You’re better with kids.”
“What? No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. They’re scared of me.”
“That’s because you’re an asshole.”
There was no arguing with that, so I turned away, guiding Stef to her seat and sinking down next to her.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice low.
Entrees were served, and it took me less than a minute to realize Stef was barely touching hers. “You don’t like it? I can have something else made for you.”
“No, it’s fine.” Poking at a stuffed mushroom with her fork, she looked far from fine.
“You need to eat.” Irritation laced my tone, and I caught the way she flinched. But I knew I wasn’t wrong; she was so fucking sickshe could barely sit up straight. I almost felt like I was watching her fade before my eyes. Scooping some of the food from my plate to hers, I said, “Eat.” The commanding note was deliberate, but it worked. Stef speared a mushroom with her fork and shoved it in her mouth, her eyes on mine the whole time. “Good girl.”
She coughed slightly and turned away, a slight blush staining her cheeks.
After the entrée plates were cleared away, the MC stepped up to the dais, tapping at the microphone to get everyone’s attention. “Good evening, everyone! I hope you’re all enjoying the wonderful food and the fantastic company here at Esme and Wolfe’s beautiful wedding. Now, we have a very special treat for you this evening.”
He paused, letting the anticipation build in the room, his eyes scanning the crowd with a warm smile. “Our very own maid of honor, Stef Moretti, will share her incredible musical talent with us. A little birdie told me she’s prepared a song, just for the occasion.” The MC gestured to the dais. “Stef, the stage is yours.”
Everyone clapped, and I took that moment to lean in. “You can’t be serious?”
“What?” There was a defiant glint in her eye.
“I’m not sure you’re up for this.”
“It’s sitting on a chair, playing guitar. I can handle it. Besides, I’d have to be half dead to not do this for Esme on her wedding day.”
“You are half dead,” I muttered, but she was already getting up.
A stool was set up, and she sat, adjusting the microphone. The room hushed. Everyone’s attention fixed on her. Shestraightened her shoulder and mustered a smile. “Here’s to my little cream puff. I just want to say, I am beyond honored to be sharing this day with you. We’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve always held yourself with such grace and kindness, always putting yourself last. I’m fu- totally thrilled that you’ve found someone who puts you first and treats you like the queen that you are. This is for both of you.”
The room fell quiet when she started strumming her guitar and she looked at Esme and Wolfe with a smile, just before she began to sing. Her voice was low and much softer than usual, almost haunting. The melody itself was simple, but the words were sincere and, of course, Esme started crying. A quick glance around the room told me she wasn’t the only one.