Page 38 of Love is a Harmony
In three hundred seconds, she’d do something she couldn’t take back.
She closed her eyes, remembering the look on Noah’s face the night she agreed to marry him.
She imagined what Justin would have said.
“You do whatever you can to help people, Mel. That’s how you come alive.”
Her finger traced her lips, remembering Noah’s kiss.
A kiss that shouldn’t have happened.
A kiss that couldn’t happen again.
And yet… She pushed out a breath as she stared at herself in the mirror. Curled, blonde hair framed her flawless face. This was the face of a girl getting married, the face of someone who’d been alone for so long she clung to the first child who’d needed her.
The face of a woman with secrets and lies.
Reaching for her purse on the counter, she pulled out her phone and dialed the one person who’d been there for everything.
He didn’t answer. She sighed when his voicemail ran through his greeting and beeped.
“Hey, Dad. You might be sleeping, but I just needed to talk to you. I’m…” She’d never lied to him. “I’m getting married. In about two minutes. There’s an explanation, and I’ll be back in L.A. soon to give it to you, but I didn’t want to do this without you knowing. I love you, old man. I’m hoping when you hear everything, you’ll understand.”
She hung up, wishing she could take her words back, hold them for just her for a while longer. This stay in France… it was like living someone else’s life, like seeing a different path she could have had if Justin hadn’t died, if she hadn’t joined the family business.
But this world couldn’t last forever. It didn’t belong to them.
Straightening her spine, she grabbed her purse and left the bathroom behind. She’d never understood courthouse weddings, but here in France, everyone had the civil ceremony before the religious one. She’d once thought there was nothing romantic about walking the halls of a courthouse, but as she passed by couples waiting their turn, she knew that wasn’t true.
The romance wasn’t in the wedding. It was a fact she’d learned with Justin. A marriage was romantic, pledging yourselves to each other forever was romantic.
It didn’t matter where that happened.
She’d have married Justin in some back alley next to a string of dumpsters and loved him just the same.
As she stopped outside the room where Noah waited at the end of an aisle, she wondered if her time for loving someone, for being in love was over. Maybe people only got one shot.
And she wasn’t sure if she wished that to be true.
Or if she wanted to experience it all again.
11
Noah
Noah adjusted the lapels on his borrowed suit. Again. He couldn’t stop fidgeting.
“She’s late.” He looked to where Mathieu sat with his family on a wooden bench. “Where is she?”
Mari smiled softly and said something to her husband in French.
Mathieu laughed.
“What?” Noah couldn’t take this. He sang on stage in front of thousands, yet somehow felt more bared up here in front of a handful of people. He was getting married.
Noah Clarke, perpetual bachelor.
Noah Clarke, beloved by women everywhere.
