How nervous can one person get? Well, after watching Carrie say "I Do" to Jensen, knowing that by sunrise he'd also know that he was going to be a daddy, and dancing through the evening with a man who I planned on going above and beyond to prove that I was ready to not only answer his lingering proposal for us to go through the same ritual, but that I was going to do it in a way that might just make him wonder if he should take it back - pretty fucking nervous, actually.
I was surprised that I managed to give my toast as the maid of honor, keeping it light while also making a few teary eyes appear, without dropping my glass of champagne or anyone knowing that my knees were shaking so damn bad that I was shocked I was still upright.
Hoping that Clay took my body's obvious trembling, that he had to notice since I was in his arms for most of the night, as a reaction to my excitement for Carrie and Jensen and not because I had other issues on my mind. And I damn sure hoped he didn't notice when Davey and George disappeared for just under an hour - off to do a few things that I couldn't manage while doing the duties that a maid of honor was required to attend to (far less than any Bridezilla could imagine doling out, but I wanted Carrie's day to be amazing).
As we danced, his arms tight around me, his gaze so hot on mine that I thought anyone nearby might be able to feel the heat radiating around us - I knew that I was making the right choice. That it had never really been a choice, not from the moment he told me how he felt and that the only thing that had been holding me back was my own childhood trauma creeping in and keeping me prisoner.
No, I hadn't been to therapy, my uncles had just sat me down as the months crept by and asked me why I felt so strongly against marriage.
Once I had unleashed every terrible thing I could recall about the unhappiness that had created my existence, they'd each taken one of my hands and sighed.
"You know that Clay isn't Walter." Davey told me, as his free hand rose up to push back a stray curl that had come undone during my tirade against the idea of holy matrimony from my face.
"And you aren't your mother," George's hand gave mine a comforting squeeze. Before I could start up again, he went on. "Your childhood wasn't something that makes that easy to see, or makes the idea of marriage in general very appealing."
Davey picked up the theme and kept going. "But your parents aren't the only committed and married couples you know, Charlotte." Their rings twinkled in the light of their living room and I thought about after - after my mother had found peace in the only way she felt possible for her - when I lived with the two of them. How playful and fun they'd been together, and how living in that type of sunniness pulled me out of the dark cloud that her death had created. They fought and their first truly terrible argument sent me rushing from their presence to hide in my room - where they'd both come to find me and as they held me between them, just as they were doing on their sofa as they talked me through my newer conflict - explaining that all couples fuss and yell sometimes. "But we love one another," Davey had told me as he brushed away a tear from my cheek. "And that means that we find a way past whatever crept up our asses to start the nastiness," George promised. "We're not leaving each other or you, Charlotte."
It was like a lightbulb flicked on over my head and I realized that they were right - again. My fear was holding me back, hiding behind all the popular reasons people gave for their disgust with marriage.
"Do you love him?" George asked, waiting while my mind clicked into place what I was sure everyone else already knew. Nodding, his smile grew.
Davey leaned closer and asked me the one question that made it all easier by far. "Can you imagine a life without him?"
And that's when I knew what I'd always known, that I wasn't aghast at the idea of a ring, a ceremony, or any of the other reasons I'd listed during my tirade against it. I was more afraid of losing him, of not being able to look across a crowded room and smile while pointing him out and saying "my husband".
We didn't get to make our departure until Carrie and Jensen were ready to go off into the night toward their forever - and before that could happen -
"Char! Get your ass over here!" Carrie was waving with her throwaway bouquet, the one she planned to toss to all the single ladies, if you will, and giving me a look that was loaded with both warning and the knowledge of where my own evening was heading. Damn it, I hoped she wasn't planning on - and then there was a flash of flowers coming right at my fucking face and instinct took over. I was studying the bouquet while everyone else was cheering and I shot Carrie a look that would have withered a lesser being, she just grinned and nodded. Damn it, this is what I get for letting her get tortured that one time.
"You look like you'd like to choke the bride with those buds, sweetheart," Clay, his warmth was tight against my back and I leaned into it. "I guess I underestimated how much you really hate the idea of marriage," well fuck.
Turning to face him, I had to shake my head - I didn't want to ruin my surprise. "I hate the fact that I've felt like I have a damn spotlight on me when it's her," throwing a dirty look at the beaming new Mrs. Jensen, "day. Shouldn't she be basking in being the center of attention?"
He chuckled and his grin held, eyes sparkling. "I hate to tell you, Char, but you kind of manage to outshine everyone else without even trying." Rolling my eyes, he was shaking his own head as he promised to show me just how brightly I could shine - "Later."
The goodbyes came quickly and easily - difficult didn't begin to describe how hard it was to not just wave as we rushed to the car, but I managed somehow.
"This isn't the way to the apartment," I told Clay I would drive since he'd had more to drink than me and he didn't argue. He wasn't quite so buzzed that he didn't notice the change in direction as I drove. "Where are we going?"
"I have a surprise for you," more than one, actually, but I didn't want to show my hand just yet.
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't give him more than that much information. Pulling up a few minutes later, happy to see that Davey and George had thought to leave the porch light on and nearly cried when I noticed the other little touches my uncles had added to my request - a huge red bow was wrapping the door and they'd added twinkle lights to the short black wrought iron fence that lined the walkway from the driveway to the door. I knew that meant they'd done what I asked and more - and I knew I'd be giving them something especially nice for every holiday and birthday from here on out.
"Char?" He was beside me, and I turned to him and watched as he took in the red bow on the door and then his eyes rose, looking up at the complete picture that was highlighted by the spotlights that angled upward to show the house in all its glory.
The house was pretty magical - one of the properties that my uncles had let me know was part of my inheritance - and it was like something out of a Victorian fairy tale. Everything about it made me think that this was our home. I was hoping that Clay would feel the same way.
"It's our new house," his gaze shifted from the site before him to me and I fought down the urge to gulp - he was looking at me like he was completely confused and so I rushed on. "Well, it's one of the houses I already own and I thought -"
I didn't get to tell him what I thought because he scooped me up and carried me up the six steps to the porch and I was trying to catch my breath. "Char?" I prayed I hadn't broken his ability to speak more than my name, but when I finally paid attention to what he was doing and not what he was saying, I realized that he was asking me to open the wrapped screen door. I had his key on a ribbon in my clutch, which I drew out and used to open the front door, since his hands were busy.
He didn't set me down when we crossed the threshold, but I didn't have any complaints. "Our room is upstairs to the right." He didn't miss a beat, closing the door behind us and leaning in to lock it while I was in his arms. Then up the stairs he went, arms loaded with me, but I couldn't have stopped him and I didn't want to.
The door was open, soft light pouring out when we hit the landing. Inside our bedroom, he took a moment to look around us - the huge four poster bed was his main focus, that and getting me onto it.
"You are full of surprises, aren't you?" He had me on my back, the gown I'd been wearing for hours feeling too restrictive as he hovered over me, and he was leaning in to take the kiss that both of us wanted, but I had to stop him.
"Am I?" He paused, and was about to nod, but I simply smiled and shook my head. "Then you should know that there's another one outside that window -" Nodding toward the window, his eyebrow raised and I knew he was curious, but wanted to finish what he'd barely started with me on the bed. "Later," I promised, but pushed his shoulder to get him to move. "Look first, then -" I waited, feeling like my heart might leave my body. It was beating so fast. What if -
He got up, looking down at me like he wasn't sure if I'd lost my mind, but he went to the window. Pushing the lacy curtains out of his way, he looked out, but I wanted to be sure he was looking down so I told him so. And then I heard it, a deep inhale and then he was back - hovering over me like he'd never left and I knew he'd seen precisely what I had George and Davey do for me. For us.
"Do you mean it?" Nodding, he waited and I knew he wanted me to say the word he just saw lit up in roses beneath our window.
"Yes," wrapping my arms around his shoulders, letting my hands land on his neck I smiled up at him, knowing that I'd managed to make him happy, but in the process I was making myself ecstatic. "Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Clay, I will marry you."
His smile could have lit up the room - and then our lips finally met and I felt the same rush and calm that I only felt with him. Two feelings that didn't seem to go together, but they made perfect sense with the man I loved.
And I knew, as we finally got rid of my tight gown and his ever present black and white suit, that tonight would be the beginning for us - the true beginning.