Thank you silvermissstt for this prompt!

"This is a stupid tradition."

"Maybe not for newlyweds in their twenties."

"That's great, but we are not, in fact, in our twenties."

"We're almost there. You'll survive a few more steps."

Oliver grumbled as he readjusted his hold on Grace. Would anyone really know if he hadn't carried her over the threshold? Would it doom their marriage? He didn't think so, but he couldn't deny Grace anything, especially not something that allowed him to carry her in his arms. If I was only ten years younger… He stopped himself before the thought went any further. He'd harped on their age difference enough before the wedding. Spoiling their honeymoon wasn't an option.

Pushing the door open when they arrived at their suite, he said with staggered breaths, "Here we are, Mrs. Warbucks."

Grace chuckled as she slid down to the floor, pecking his lips in the process. "Thank you for humoring me."

"Anytime, my dear."

Turning around, her eyes rested on the balcony windows overlooking the mountains. Stepping forward, she said, "Ooh, it's beautiful!"

"The view is better than I thought," Oliver agreed, following behind her. "We may never have to leave our room." His arms wound around her with this, burying his nose into her neck.

"And when everyone wants to see photographs of the town and trails?"

"We'll tell them we dropped the camera."

With a smile, she sunk into his embrace. "Works for me."

"How about some champagne? I brought a special bottle from home."

"Sounds wonderful, but it's still a bit early, isn't it?"

Glancing down at his watch, he said, "Just after seven. It's evening."

"But the sun is still up."

Spinning her around, he crooned, "I suppose we can figure something out to kill time until an appropriate drinking hour."

A red tint colored her cheeks. "Perhaps."

"Nervous?"

"A little," she admitted.

"Look on the bright side… we're away from the constant scrutiny at home."

"I'm grateful for that."

"It's been a lot."

With a sigh, she agreed. "It has. There's an audience no matter where we turn. I'm still not recovered from those rags when we first announced our engagement."

"I'm still trying to get that editor fired," he seethed.

"Maybe that's why I'm feeling so nervous."

"We're married now," he reminded.

Grace nodded. "I know, but what if I get pregnant right away? Everyone will decide that it happened before the wedding."

"They're blasted idiots if they do. It's a matter of counting the months."

She stepped away from him, slowly walking over to one of the chairs in the sitting area. "I think I'd just like to relax for a few minutes. Everything about our relationship has happened so fast."

Though he couldn't disagree, he couldn't fully hide the disappointment in his voice when he sat down across from her. "I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be. As terrific as they've been, the past two months have been a blur."

"Especially once the wedding planning began."

"I still don't know how you managed it so quickly."

"I didn't want to wait," she said with a hint of a grin. "It was fortunate neither of us wanted anything extravagant."

Oliver nodded. "The reception was more of an event for the city than for us in the end."

"I agree. With neither of us having any family left it didn't feel personal. Other than standing in front of the alter, of course."

"No, I know what you mean. I can't say I ever imagined my wedding day, but getting away from New York with you as my wife has been the most exciting part so far."

"The ceremony itself was bittersweet. The happiest moment of my life with you and Annie, but I fight the sadness wishing my parents could have been there. Yours, too."

"Eh," he said, turning his gaze to the fireplace. "That's no loss."

"Oh?"

"Just trust me."

"What happened?" she questioned anyway. "I know your parents and brother passed away, but I always assumed you all got along."

"David and I did," he replied in a low voice. "My parents? Maybe I could have made amends with my mother as an adult. I don't know. But certainly not my father."

"Tell me about them."

"You don't want to hear it."

"Of course I do," Grace said. "Come to think of it, we've never really talked about our pasts. We've only really just started to get acquainted on a personal level. I think since we're married we should know these things about each other."

"You know everything that matters. You know who I am in business and with Annie."

She reached out and touched his knee. "And I love who you are. But don't you think we should also know where each other came from?"

"Now?" he gestured to the honeymoon suite.

"As good a time as any. Might as well start off right."

"If you're so eager, why don't you tell me about your childhood?"

"I will if you will."

He didn't give much of a response, only crossing his arms and slumping back against the cushions.

"Is there something you don't trust me knowing?"

"It's not that, Grace," he said defensively. "It's just not part of who I am anymore. Not really. You know I told Annie about David and all and told her I wasn't born rich, but the rest is irrelevant. I don't want to bother either of you with stories of people long dead."

"They're not just people," she said. "They're a part of you. Whether or not you had a good relationship with them, they created you. That counts for something."

"Why don't you just tell me about your family for now. I'm sure it's a nicer story than what I have to offer."

Grace shrugged as she sat back. "Maybe not as dark as to what you're alluding to, but it wasn't all good."

"How so?"

"Well," she said after a breath, conceding to the fact this conversation might be one-sided. "You know that my mother died young. I remember her a little bit, though the memories are sort of fuzzy. Still, I miss her terribly. Especially lately with the wedding and all. Mrs. Pugh spoiled me, but I still can't help but wish I'd had my mother there to help me get ready."

"How did she die again?"

"Cancer. From what my father used to say, it was a miracle I was even born. They lost several children to miscarriages before me and at least one after."

"I'm sorry."

She thanked him, then went on. "Things were rough with my father the first couple of years after she died. I spent more time with the neighbors than him. He still had to work full-time. We weren't poor, but we were far from rich. He felt like a stranger to me sometimes. He aged a lot in that time, too. I always remember him having grey streaks in his hair, but by the time I was eight it was white."

Running his hand over his head, Oliver said, "I sympathize."

She chuckled. "Eventually, he realized I needed him home. I didn't need to lose both parents because one had died. He shifted his hours, though it meant a couple of night shifts, and he was able to be more of a dad."

"Is that why you took to Annie right away?" he asked.

"I hadn't thought about it, but I suppose so. I do know what it's like not to have your parents available to you, even though she had a much more extreme case."

"How old were you when your father died?"

"Seventeen."

He gave a solemn nod.

"That was the worst time of my life, realizing how alone I was in the world. Our next-door neighbor took me in so I could finish school, but I always felt like a burden. Don't get me wrong, she'd always been kind to me, but homing is a lot different than babysitting weekday afternoons."

"So you came to New York at eighteen?"

She nodded. "Best decision of my life."

"Mine, too," he grinned.

"You know the rest from there. It was all on my resume."

"It was quite impressive."

"I wouldn't say that. A lot of odd jobs. I didn't know what I wanted from my life, but I never imagined I'd find a lifelong career."

"Odd jobs are necessary when you're broke. Regardless, something stood out when I interviewed you. In hindsight, maybe I was attracted to you."

Playfully swatting him, she said, "No, really. What made you hire me? I'm sure there were plenty more qualified than I was."

"It was the way you carried yourself," he said after some thought. "And the way you spoke. You were shy as anything but faked it well."

"You could tell?"

"Your face was red as a beet."

Touching her cheek, she said, "Always my downfall."

"And yet, you got the job."

"That's true."

"Truthfully, I didn't expect you to last through the year. That's nothing personal, people just have little patience for me. I'll never understand why you did. Why you do. I'm sure I'll be just as much of a bore as a husband than as an employer."

She stood and moved to the arm of his chair. "You're grouchy, but not a bore. I guess I cared about you enough to look past that. You weren't the only one attracted." She winked.

Taking her hands, he asked, "When did you realize you were in love with me? You always say you've had feelings for me for a long time but never how long. What on earth made you realize you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?"

Her stomach fluttered. "I wish I could pinpoint an exact moment. It's something I realized slowly. I found myself thinking about you all the time, realizing I didn't care that I was working eighteen hours most days. I missed you when you were gone and I no longer cared if I met another man. Whether I was your wife or your secretary, I knew I wanted my future to be with you."

Oliver smiled, reaching up and tugging on her chin so he could reach her lips. When he pulled back again, he said, "It was sort of like that for me, too, only Annie was the one to bring it to light."

"I owe her everything," she smiled.

"I owe it to the both of you."

She pecked his lips again before asking, "Can't you at least tell me your parents' names? I don't even know that."

"To be fair, you didn't tell me your parents' names."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Thomas and Maureen."

Giving in after a moment, he said, "Gordon and Edda."

"Edda's a lovely name."

"Yeah, well. She was only lovely when she wanted to be."

Squeezing his hand, she said, "Tell me about her, Oliver… Please."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

She shook her head.

"If I tell you, do you promise we never have to have this discussion again?"

"I promise."

"Fine." Letting go of her, he motioned for her to go back to her seat. When she was in the chair again, he began.

"My father was a raging drunk," he said. "That's really the gist of it. He'd disappear for days at a time. Sometimes longer. We eventually stopped asking ourselves if he was dead or alive. If he were alive, we'd live on edge waiting for his next explosion. If he were dead, we'd probably go hungry, not that food was always a given when he was around, but at least we wouldn't live in fear of his next explosion."

"Oh, Oliver…"

Ignoring her, he went on. "My mother did the best she could with what she was dealt. Her best wasn't great, but I can say it could have been worse. Melancholia got her most of the time. She was weak to start given she made sure David and I were taken care of first. I never understood why she didn't leave my father. She said she didn't have the heart, but I know even now if we had we all might have had a better chance to survive as a family."

"I'm so sorry."

He waved his hand. "Can't change it. Though I'd bring David back if I could. The one thing in my life I would change. I don't regret leaving after he died, even if my mother went shortly after."

"What happened?"

"I don't know the details. A friend of hers sent a letter and it was really only by chance that I got it. I was working on the ships by then. I'll say the loss of both her sons did her in. I used to feel guilty about it, but I know I made the right choice."

She touched his knee again. "What about your father? When did he die?"

"I don't know."

"No?"

"One of those times he disappeared he never came back. My mother assumed he was dead so David and I did as well. That was about a year before David got sick. If he was alive I certainly wasn't aware of it."

"So he could be alive now and you'd have no way of knowing?"

"I'm the richest man in the world. If I wanted to find my father I could. Besides, it isn't likely. I don't know how anyone could survive very long the way he drank. Think of Miss Hannigan being a healthy alcoholic."

Grace bit her lip and said carefully, "Doesn't it bother you not knowing?"

"Frankly, if he were alive he would have been in contact as soon as I made my first million. He was a freeloader. A wealthy son would have been his dream come true."

Sitting back, she struggled to find a response.

"Understand why I didn't want to talk about them?"

"Yes and no."

"Not really a honeymoon topic of conversation."

"Sure it is. I'm glad to know. I think it makes sense."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I don't mean this in a bad way, but being emotionally approachable isn't a strong point for you, the last couple of months aside, of course. I always assumed something from your childhood caused you to keep people at arm's length. Knowing makes it easier. Kind of like how you connected my growing up without a mother to my love for Annie."

"You… have a point," he mumbled. "I hate that."

She gave a soft smile. "Better to know the baggage each of us carries now than later when the unspoken can cause problems."

"Well, now that it's said and done, can we put it behind us?"

She nodded, feeling a sudden pang of guilt.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She was confused a moment before she remembered their previous conversation. "Oh… a little better."

"Shall we go for a walk instead?"

"What happened to never wanting to leave the room?"

Standing up and holding out his hand for hers, he replied, "I think we both could use some air."

She agreed, standing as well. "Maybe get some dinner as well?"

"You're not full from the reception?"

"Surprisingly no."

Once they put on their jackets, Grace linked her arm through Oliver's. Then, raising her eyebrows in suggestion, she said, "When we get back, we'll open up that bottle of champagne."

He tilted his head down, letting his lips linger on hers for several seconds before saying, "I love you."

"I love you, too, Oliver… and I promise that I'm not going to leave you."

His eyes widened in surprise. He tensed up, then softened, not daring to speak for fear emotion would get the better of him. Instead, he reached for and squeezed her hand as they walked out the door.