Page 30 of Whispers in the Dark
“Liv,” Molly whispered, hand over her mouth. “You look… stunning.” And she did. The fitted bodice with lace detailing hugged Olivia’s petite frame, the fabric cascading like soft waterfalls around her. She looked every bit the vision of a bride, her cheeks flushed, her hands clasped together. “Jackson is going to faint when he sees you.”
Charlotte clapped, shoving her unease aside. “My beautiful girl,” she said, rising from her seat to adjust a bit of lace on Olivia’s shoulder. She refused to let this moment be ruined. This was for her daughters, for their joy.
Outside, the officers remained, silent shadows against the bright late afternoon. Charlotte felt their presence like an itch at the base of her spine. But as Olivia turned to her with an expression of pure happiness, her heart melted. Not today, she thought. Whatever this was, whoever they were waiting for—it wasn’t going to steal this moment from them.
She smoothed Olivia’s veil and smiled, her voice calm and unwavering. “You’re so beautiful.”
The sisters erupted into cheers as Olivia twirled in front of the mirror, admiring herself from every angle. Sophie wiped a tear from her eye before clearing her throat. “Alright, my turn.”
Molly, Isobel, and Ruth followed, slipping into their dresses one by one, their giggles bouncing off the walls. Charlotte watched as her daughters came together, supporting one another, their bond as strong as ever.
Then, Rosalind turned toward Charlotte. “And now, it’s your turn, my dear.”
Charlotte blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Me?” Her dress had come in earlier. But she didn’t plan on being fitted today.
“Of course! The mother of the bride needs to look radiant too,” Rosalind said with a knowing smile, leading her toward the fitting room.
Charlotte hesitated, not wanting to leave her daughters, but she stepped inside, letting the curtain fall closed behind her. When she emerged, she wore a sleek navy gown, the fabric hugging her frame in all the right places, the beaded neckline catching the light. She turned toward the mirror, taking in the sight of herself.
“Mom,” Olivia breathed, her eyes welling up. “You look so beautiful.”
A lump rose in Charlotte’s throat as she met her daughter’s gaze. “So do you, my love. Your dad would be so proud of all of you.” The lump sat heavy in her throat.
Despite the watchful eyes outside, this was all that mattered.
Holding hands, they left the shop and headed to a nearby restaurant. As they settled into its welcoming curved booth, plates of warm pasta, fresh salads, and crusty bread arrived. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and wedding plans.
But then Olivia leaned toward her, eyes glistening with something more than joy. She gently placed a hand on Charlotte’s arm, drawing her attention away from the giggles.
“Mom, I wanted to ask you before I do anything,” Olivia said, her voice soft but with an intensity she showed when her mind was set on something. She hesitated, looking for the right words, as if the question was a long time coming.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow, her smile gentle but curious. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Olivia took a deep breath, clearly gathering her courage. “Turk is going to marry us.” Turk was Jackson’s best friend and a fire department battalion chief. “You know Turk. He’s been a huge part of Jackson’s life, and I think it’s going to be perfect.”
Charlotte smiled warmly. “I think it’s wonderful Turk is going to marry you. He’s like family.”
Olivia smiled in return, but there was something different in her expression now—something more vulnerable. “I was wondering, though,” she continued, her voice just above a whisper, “if you’d mind if I asked Alex to walk me down the aisle.”
Charlotte blinked, startled by the request. She wasn’t sure if she’d heard her daughter correctly. She hadn’t been expecting this.
She looked into Olivia’s eyes, searching for a sign there was something she didn’t understand. But Olivia’s face was serious. Earnest. Her request came from a place of deep love and trust.
"Alex?" Charlotte echoed, her voice a little more fragile than she intended.
Olivia nodded, her hands gently clasped in front of her. “Yes, Mom. He’s been so good to all of us. And he loves you. I’ve watched how he cares for you, how he’s been there for you and for us, even when we didn't ask him to be. And I know you’ve been through so much—especially with Dad’s passing. But Alex, he’s not trying to replace anyone.” She paused, taking Charlotte’s hands in hers. “I just... I think it would mean a lot to both of us, and I wanted to ask you before I ask him. If that’s okay with you.”
Charlotte’s chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She was overcome with emotion. The weight of Olivia’s words, the sincerity, the care, and the love behind them, filled her in a way she hadn’t prepared for. For a second, her breath caught in her throat.
She closed her eyes as if to steady herself and exhaled slowly. When she opened them again, Olivia was still waiting, watching her with those hopeful eyes.
Her heart swelled. Olivia wasn’t just asking about a tradition. She was asking about acceptance, about the future, about what Alex had become in their lives. Charlotte realized, with startling clarity, how far they had come. She thought of her daughters’ dismay when they first started seeing each other. Charlotte was twenty-two years Alex’s senior.
Her voice was a little shaky, but when she spoke, it was full of warmth. “Olivia,” she reached out to cup her daughter’s face, “you know I love you with all my heart. Alex... he’s been my rock. I trust him. I want him to be there for you, for you both, on your big day. And I think... I think he’d be honored.”
Charlotte swallowed hard, feeling the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “But more than that—” her voice wavered, “I’m proud of you. I’m proud of all of you. For seeing him for who he truly is. And you’re right, Olivia. He can’t replace your father. But he’s become something else to me—a part of my life I can’t imagine not having.”
Olivia’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled her mother into a tight hug. Charlotte held her daughter close, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of her hair, the warmth of her love pressing against her.
