Chapter 23 - The Wedding Margaret Wasn’t Supposed to PlanSix months later, Clare proposed.
Nathaniel nearly dropped a plate.
They were washing dishes.
She said:
“Marry me.”
He stared.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Nathaniel turned off the faucet.
“Clare.”
“No cathedral.”
“Fine.”
“No five hundred guests.”
“Absolutely.”
“No press.”
“Obviously.”
“No Cartier.”
“Tragic, but acceptable.”
She smiled.
“Twenty people.”
Nathaniel’s eyes filled.
“Are you sure?”
Clare touched his face.
“No.”
He laughed.
She continued.
“But I don't need certainty anymore. I need trust.”
Nathaniel kissed her palm.
“I trust you.”
“I trust you too.”
Margaret was told specifically:
Small wedding.
Margaret interpreted this creatively.
She ordered twelve thousand dollars of flowers.
Clare nearly strangled her.
“Twenty people do not need six hundred roses!”
Margaret shrugged.
“They looked lonely in the catalog.”
Andrew laughed so hard he spilled champagne.
Julian attended.
He hugged Nathaniel.
“If you hurt her again—”
Nathaniel nodded.
“You won't need to finish that sentence.”
May you like
Julian smiled.
“Good.”
