Page 90 of Eye of the Hurricane
She approaches me and I feel like I’m being approached by an actual angel.
Her dress is a red, strapless, floor-length gown with a slit up to her upper thigh. She’s got on taller heels than usual, the exact same shade of red. She’s got a golden anklet hanging just above the heel.
Her blonde hair is perfectly curled and cascading down her shoulders and back. A golden necklace with a ruby pendant sits on her chest. Long, sparkling earrings hang from her ears.
“Kat, you look…” I trail off, searching for a word, any word that comes close. None do, so I settle. “Breathtaking, stunning, I don’t know what to call it.” I pause for another moment. “Perfect. You look perfect.”
Her cheeks blaze under my gaze. The gaze I’m yet to be able to drag from her. Her blue eyes pop in contrast with the red. Her lips are painted red, a couple of shades darker than her dress.
“Thank you,” she says, reaching a perfectly manicured hand up and straightening out my tie. “Now you look perfect too,” her eyes catch mine and it feels like we’re locked into that moment. It also feels like no one else is at the house, that is until her brother clears his throat.
“We’re getting ready to leave. Are you guys riding with us or driving yourselves?” Noah asks.
“I’ll drive us, you guys can go ahead, we’ll be right behind you,” I assure him. I’m sure he can read between the lines which tells himI need a minute alone with your sister and this dress.
They walk out of the door and a small grin tips up at the edge of her mouth.
“What if I wanted to drive?” she asks, raising a brow at me.
“Kat, in this dress you can do whatever you want. I’ll hand you my keys, my wallet, anything you want.” She laughs. She grabs my chin, pulls me down, and kisses me. Thank fucking God. It’s all I’ve thought about all day but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
“I needed that.”
“A kiss?”
“You.”
This isby far the fanciest wedding I’ve ever been to. My parents have money and most of their friends have money but I’m beginning to understand that it doesn’t compare to Katherine’s family.
The bride’s dress is almost as wide as it is tall. The archway in which they’re reciting their vows is made to look like it’s twisted branches of a tree. There’s pink wisteria hanging from it. It looks straight out of a fairy tale.
What really throws me off is the bride and groom themselves. The bride looks like she can’t be any older than eighteen.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with people marrying young if they’re sure. That’s the problem, they seem completely void of any real love or passion. If you told me they were two strangers standing up there, I’d believe you.
It’s unlike any wedding I’ve been to. Usually, there are people overcome with emotion, crying. Everyone is watching with a stoic look on their faces. It’s just… odd.
When the ceremony is over I follow Katherine out of the building, her hand wrapped in mine.
“Where are we going for the reception?” I ask.
“It’s about twenty minutes away. You drive, I’ll give directions,” she says, reaching for the passenger door. I run around the side of the car and brush her hand out of my way to open it for her.
“Deal.” I get in and once the traffic of everyone has cleared some, I get us on the road.
“Did you think the ceremony was a little… odd?” I finally get the balls to ask.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know… They just didn’t exactly seem like they were in love… or even particularly happy.” She nods like she knows exactly what I’m talking about.
“My family is firm in the belief that women are to be wives and mothers. They entirely surpass your normal southern, conservative views like needing to go to an Ivy League school and have a good career. They’re so old-fashioned that they don’t think women should have careers. They also don’t necessarily prioritize love when it comes to marriage.” She sounds exhausted with them.
“What else is there to prioritize for marriage? Isn’t love the whole point?” She laughs like it’s the silliest thing I’ve ever said.
“Money, status, security, you know… all the ingredients to being deeply in love,” she says sarcastically, huffing a dry laugh.
“This is why you don’t date? Because they’ll try to marry you off?” I ask.
