Page 65 of Devil's Iris
“You haven’t even seen the best part.” Emily grins, holding out a satin box tied with a white ribbon. Where did that come from? “Open it,” she prompts, shoving it into my arms.
Her obvious excitement is so infectious I find myself grinning like an idiot as I tear the box open. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is a champagne-colored robe so smooth it feels spun from pure silk. Across the chest, the word ‘Bride’ shimmers ingold lettering, the kind that catches the light with every little shift.
I let out a soft gasp, my eyes prickling with unexpected tears.
When I glance up, she notices instantly and pulls me into a tight hug. “Go get changed,” she whispers against my ear, and I nod, too choked up to speak.
Is this what it’s like to have girlfriends?
Gianna points me towards a door with a small plaque that reads ‘Bridal Suite’, and I nearly stumble over my own feet.
They’ve gone all out for this…for me.
I inhale deeply as I enter the huge cabin that looks more like a five-star hotel suite and try not to gawk at the fancy interior while changing into the robe. The fabric feels soft as heaven against my skin, and I can’t stop running my thumb over the material as I head back into the main cabin.
The girls erupt when they see me, squealing and clapping in excitement. Gianna snaps a picture before I can throw up a hand to stop her, the sudden flash from her phone camera almost blinding me.
“You look so beautiful I might cry,” Elira says, dramatically fanning herself, and my cheeks blaze under the attention.
Emily presses a champagne flute into my hand, and I take a slow sip, mindful of the drinks I already had in the limo. My tolerance is clearly questionable.
Gianna claps her hands together. “Okay, let’s get this bachelorette party started!”
More squeals. More laughter. I settle into one of the leather seats, feeling like I’m floating on air. I’m curious as hell where this plane is headed as we taxi down the runway, but fuck it, I’m having way too much fun to be bothered asking again.
We kick things off with ‘Guess the Memory’.
They each write down a ridiculous or sweet memory of them with their spouses, and I have to guess who it belongs to.
The memories are absolutely unhinged:
—I thought we were having a sweet first date… then he drugged my water. I woke up in Las Vegas where he threatened to kill my father and brother if I didn’t marry him.
—It was raining heavily when I got attacked by this horrible stranger sent by my uncle after I ran away from home, and my husband pulled up in his car asking if I needed help.DUH!He took his sweet time taking off his wristwatch before he bothered getting out to lend me a hand.
—I was snooping in this guy’s office when my husband came in, distracting me. We almost got caught, had to hide in a closet, and the bastard had the audacity to get an erection behind me!
And those are just a few examples.What kind of lives do these women live?
We dissolve into hysterical laughter as I read the memories out loud. I get almost every single one wrong, and my punishment is more champagne, which I drink without protest.
By the time we move on to a round of ‘Truth or Shot’, my head is spinning pleasantly, and everything is hilarious. The game quickly devolves into TMI stories from the girls, leaving everyone in stitches. Elira is stuck with mocktails throughout, one hand always resting gently on her small baby bump, but her face is just as flushed from laughter as the rest of us.
When Emily dares me to share the kinkiest place I’ve ever had sex, I almost spit my drink across the cabin. Elira clutches her stomach like she’s in pain from laughing, and Gianna teeters on the edge of her seat, trying not to topple over. I stammer and stutter, wondering if it would ruin the guise of being in love with Romero if I tell them the boring truth—that I’ve never even had sex.
Thankfully, Elira saves me with a dramatic yawn. She gives us all a sleepy smile. “Okay, I love you all dearly, but this baby is officially shutting me down for the night.”
My heart warms as we all kiss her goodnight and watch herdisappear behind the velvet curtain towards one of the private bedrooms in the back of the jet, her robe trailing behind her.
The energy shifts after that, exhaustion finally catching up to us as well. Gianna curls up under a blanket, popping her earbuds in, feet tucked beneath her as her eyes drift shut. Emily sprawls across five seats, her robe slipping off one shoulder, a faint smile lingering on her lips.
I think about inviting them to join me in the bridal suite and sleep on the bed there, but they look too content where they are, and I can’t bring myself to disturb them. For women married to such ruthless, dangerous men, they’re incredibly sweet, though I can tell they’re little warriors themselves. Tonight, I got to see more of who they really are—and of their marriages.
My heart has never felt this full, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun in my life. And maybe it’s the alcohol, but the thought that I wouldn’t have met these amazing women if not for Romero makes my chest ache. I curl up on my own row of seats and pull out my phone to text him.
I love the girls, can I marry them instead of you?
I yawn as I lock my phone, wondering what he’s doing right now and when he’ll see my message. He did say he has a lot to wrap up at work before our weddingandhoneymoon. Warmth spreads through me, heavier than any buzz, and my lids grow too heavy to fight.
