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"Don't you dare," Olivia warns, expertly fastening the necklace around my neck. "There. Something new."
A knock at the door interrupts us. Sterling Kade, Roman’s father peers in, his eyes widening when he sees me. "Cassie," he breathes, looking suddenly older and younger all at once. "You're a vision."
"Thanks, Sterlling for walking me down the isle," I say, reaching for his hand. "Is everything ready?"
He nods. "The guests are seated. The string quartet is playing. And Roman is pacing like a caged lion." His eyes twinkle. "That boy loves you something fierce, doesn't he?"
"He does," I confirm, a certainty I never thought I'd feel. "And I love him the same way."
"Then let's not keep him waiting."
We decided on a home wedding—intimate,with only sixty guests in our backyard.
The space has been transformed with subtle lighting and abundant flowers, the October evening perfect with just a hint of crispness in the air.
As I step onto the rose petal-strewn path, I catch sight of Roman at the end of the aisle, his back to me as he chats with the officiant.
Harmony spots me first, her two-year-old voice piercing the gentle murmur of conversation. "Mama! Pwetty!"
Roman turns, and the look on his face stops my heart. I've seen many expressions from this man—desire, tenderness, amusement, even vulnerability. But this—this is something else entirely. Like he's seeing a miracle.
The string quartet begins Pachelbel's Canon, and my father squeezes my arm. "Ready?"
I nod, my eyes locked with Roman's as we begin our walk. The guests blur on either side—colleagues, friends, family—but I register a few faces. Camden sitting with his fiancée Arielle, giving me a genuine smile and thumbs up. eyes suspiciously damp.
And then there's Harmony, squirming in Mia's lap, her dark curls adorned with a tiny floral crown, her dress a miniature version of mine. When she spots me again, she lets out an excited squeal and lunges forward. Mia barely catches her, and a ripple of laughter breaks the solemnity of the moment.
It's perfect. Perfectly us.
When we reach Roman, his father places my hand in his with a gruff, "Take care of each other," before stepping back.
Roman's fingers twine with mine, warm and steady. "You're breathtaking," he whispers.
"So are you," I reply, taking in his bespoke suit, the subtle nervousness in his normally confident bearing.
The ceremony is brief but meaningful. We wrote our own vows—his eloquent and heartfelt, mine stumbling but sincere. When he slides the platinum band onto my finger, his hand trembles slightly. I do the same for him, marveling at how this small circle of metal can feel so significant when we've already committed to each other in every other way.
"By the power vested in me," the officiant says, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Roman cups my face in his hands, his touch reverent. "Hello, Mrs. Kade," he murmurs, just for me.
"Hello, Mr. Kade-Monroe,” I correct with a smile.
His answering grin is blinding as he leans in, sealing our marriage with a kiss that manages to be both appropriate for our audience and promising of much more to come.
The reception unfolds across our backyard and into the lower level of the house, where the large living space has been cleared for dancing.
Roman and I move from group to group, accepting congratulations, champagne flutes in hand.
"Congratulations," Camden says when we reach him, Arielle at his side. "The ceremony was beautiful. Very you guys."
"Thanks, Cam," I say, genuine warmth in my voice. Three years ago, I couldn't have imagined being here—married to Roman with Camden as a welcomed guest. But time and perspective have healed old wounds, leaving friendship in their place.
"The firm made me partner last month," he tells us. "I'm heading up the new entertainment law division. Arielle and I will be splitting our time between New York and LA."
"That's amazing," I say, squeezing his arm. "You always were a brilliant lawyer. You deserve this."
"Speaking of global," Arielle adds, "I hear Cassandra Designs is opening a Tokyo office?"