Will Be Yours Ch. 10

The wedding was at 4 p.m. Luke checked the time. It was three. The day was clear, with a soft breeze and mild sunshine. Cynthia had wanted to reach just in time, not early by any chance. She couldn't bear the idea of sitting in the church and watching known people walk in. From what Luke had understood, she wasn't fond of the Lang family, and given a choice, wouldn't have attended the wedding.

He tied his shoe laces and rose from bed, before combing his hair nicely. Then grabbing his watch from the nightstand, he left the room.

"Cynthia, are you ready?" he called out, fastening his watch on his wrist.

"Yes."

The voice made him look up. Cynthia was standing near the living room window, dressed in a pale coral one-shoulder gown. Luke was left speechless for a few minutes. He hadn't seen her showing skin except a little bit of leg or neck, and there she was, revealing the smooth creamy skin of her neck, back, and arms. Her long, bouncy, lustrous hair was bunched to a side, and the barely there makeup made her radiant. Even her spectacles couldn't diminish the elegance of her very feminine attire.

She is such a beauty. Breathtaking, alluring, stunning.

"Wow." He said, to make sure his vocal chords still worked. "You look... unreal."

Cynthia laughed out, and her big, sparkling eyes made him begin to sweat underneath his suit.

Down boy, down! You need to last through the wedding.

"Unreal?" she asked, crossing her arms against her chest. Luke forced himself to look elsewhere. He just couldn't let his eyes be drawn to her... cleavage.

"Yes," he smiled, slowly walking up to her. "Your efforts to remain unnoticed won't be much of a success."

She laughed again, and although it was softer this time, Luke was bedazzled by her smile. For some reason, she looked more beautiful than she ever had.

But something was missing. Her attire was screaming for something more.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "You look mighty fine yourself."

"I was thinking," he said, "Your look is incomplete."

"Incomplete?" she seemed a little shocked. "What am I missing?"

Luke smiled. "Just wait."

He rushed to his bedroom, where he pulled out a small box from one of the chambers in his closet. The ornate wooden box contained a few of Diana's belongings that Luke had considered too special to be discarded. One of them was a delicate diamond bracelet he had got custom fitted for her slender wrist. He smiled through the tears that he hadn't even noticed. It would look perfect on Cynthia, although it could be a little loose for her hand. If there was anybody besides Diana he could imagine doing justice to that piece of jewellery, then it was her.

When he returned to the living room, Cynthia was on the sofa, trying out the matching bolero with the gown. He had never seen her in any kind of jewellery. But her outfit needed a diamonds to look complete. It was a wedding, after all.

"What's this?" she asked, when Luke sat next to her on the sofa, his palm closed. Smiling enigmatically, he opened his fist, and Cynthia's eyes widened.

"D-Diamonds?" she exclaimed, her gaze fixed on the bracelet on his open palm. He nodded.

"I'd gifted this to Diana when we completed one year of being together," he smiled, his eyes welling up again. "I want you to wear it today."

"I can't..." she shook her head, "I'm not here to take her place."

"You're not," he insisted. "Please, it'll make me very happy if you wear it."

"Luke-"

"Nobody can take her place, Cynthia," he said, holding her hand "Her place in my life is permanent. I'm not even asking you to keep it. I just want you to wear it today. You'll look amazing with this on..."

Cynthia sighed, and Luke knew he had won. He carefully held her hand and secured the bracelet around her wrist. To his utter surprise and delight, it fit her perfectly.

How had that happened?

It was made to fit Diana's wrist. But the fit on Cynthia's wrist was flawless too. She slowly, hesitantly, lifted her hand and smiled at the jewellery. Then she smoothed her hands through her hair, and looked unsurely at him.

"Well?" she said, seeking approval.

"Diamonds are indeed a girl's best friend," he smiled, leaning close. "You look stunning."

"I cannot afford diamonds," she shrugged. "And I usually avoid jewellery because I find them uncomfortable."

"Oh, never mind," he rose from the sofa. "At least today you're going to knock everybody out."

Cynthia laughed quietly as she took the hand he was offering her and got up to her feet. Dangling her small purse (which, she had told him the other night, was a baguette) in the crook of her arm, she smiled at him. He returned her smile and lightly tapped her cheek, wishing she could be this happy all the time.

"Come on," he said, "It's show time."

The roads were clogged with weekend traffic that afternoon, and Luke's prize BMW often slowed to a crawl. Cynthia had asked for the windows to be kept shut, since she didn't want her hair to be ruffled, and Luke had turned on the AC. The suit did make him a tad uncomfortable; the trousers were tight, the shirt hugged his body a little too snugly. Perhaps he had put on weight since the last time he'd worn them. He only hoped he didn't end up with ripped pants at the wedding.

He looked at Cynthia beside him. She was staring outside, occasionally raising her fingers to scribble on the moisture forming on the window. Her arms were slender and shapely, like the rest of her body. The floor-length gown with that lace bolero hugged her body in all the right places, the colour making her complexion even brighter. Her ex had clearly been a fool to lose her.

The thought of her ex made him want to curse out loud again. Then he shook his head. He didn't deserve her. It was a good thing the relationship hadn't lasted. He would have only given her more heartbreak.

"What was that?" Cynthia asked him. Luke turned to find her staring at him.

"What?"

"I think I saw you shaking your head rather vigorously."

You're such an idiot, Luke Harris. "That was the traffic," he said, "It's slow, isn't it?"

"It was. But now we're going fast." She looked at him again. "Are you distracted by something?"

Yes, because of you, he thought.

"Sorry?" she said.

"What?" He was clearly flustered now.

"You mumbled something."

Luke kept his gaze on the road ahead. "Nothing," he said, trying to brush it off. "I'm just a little nervous about this whole wedding thing."

"It isn't your wedding," she laughed, "So, relax."

"Do you think we're going to reach on time?"

"I don't want to reach on time."

"I wouldn't like to stand outside."

"The church is big enough. We'll find a place at the back."

"Don't you think your mom would be waiting for you?"

"I'll be meeting her at some point anyway. There's no need to rush."

Luke sighed, tightening his grip on the steering. His mind went back to the bracelet. He still remembered Diana's constant complaint that none of the bracelets she liked ever fit her. Since her hands would always be in focus when she played the cello, she'd want an adornment for them. Luke had then decided to gift her a custom-made bracelet on her first birthday with him, which also happened to be their first anniversary of togetherness.

His eyes travelled to Cynthia's hand, the amazing fit still baffling him. What did that mean? Was it just coincidence? Or was Diana around, watching him, making sure he wasn't lonely anymore?

"The left turn coming up," Cynthia pointed out, shaking him out of his reverie. He nodded, slowing a little as he turned left.

"Are you alright, Luke?" she asked him again. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I'm fine," he tried to assure her.

"You seem funny to me," she said. "If you aren't feeling well, we should do something-"

"I'm perfectly okay, Cynthia." He gave her a smile, hoping to convince her. "The suit's a little tight, that's all."

She laughed, shaking her head. Luke joined in, feeling a little at ease. "You should've chosen something else if this was too tight," she said, "You trusted my choice a little too much."

"I like your choices," he smiled. "And it's fine. A tight suit isn't going to kill me."

"Turn right and you'll see the church," she instructed him. "There must be special parking for the guests."

Following her instructions, he turned right and saw a big white church with a huge lawn in front. The bells were tolling as he parked his car behind a row of other vans and cars.

"Look, the bride is walking in," Cynthia pointed out while they watched from outside the gate. Julie was dressed in a long-sleeve wedding gown with a long train and an elaborate headdress. The bridesmaids, who Cynthia said were Julie's friends, were dressed in teal dresses. When the procession had disappeared inside the church, Cynthia looked at him.

"Irrespective of the tension that's always existed between us," she said. "Despite the dislike she's always had towards me, I want her to have a happy marriage."

Her eyes turned moist as she continued. "I know what it feels like when relationships don't work out. And I don't wish that for her. Not because she's my sister, but because she's a woman, like me."

Luke smiled, flicking a lock of curled hair from her face. She never failed to amaze him with her sweetness, her generosity. Her family and the man she'd loved had uprooted her, and Scott had rescued her and planted her in new soil, helping her grow and flourish again. He was glad he had done that. There was something special about Cynthia that needed to be preserved.

"Let's go," she finally said, when she was sure the service had begun. When the guards at the gate smiled at her, he looked at her questioningly.

"This has been my family's parish for generations," she explained, her voice falling to a whisper as they entered the packed church and located two seats on the last row. "I had to come here for at least two Sundays every month." She giggled quietly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Mom was very strict about it."

"I see," Luke nodded, glancing around the church and the rows of unfamiliar people. "Are all of them friends and family?" he asked.

"No, there may be colleagues and other people from work. The Lang family business is huge. Most of the guests are from their side, I'm sure."

"Oh." Luke sank back in his seat, crossing his legs and joining his hands on his knees. The groom, the tall, blue-eyed scion of the Lang family, was dressed in a white, expensive-looking wedding suit. His parents and sister were decked in stylish wedding finery. Cynthia's mother was in a modest dress suit, her short brown hair neatly styled, and the string of pearls sitting well around her neck. The service was long and boring, and Cynthia hardly spoke or looked anywhere except the booklet in her hand. Luke stifled a yawn, and glanced at the man beside him.

Dressed in a black suit with a floral printed waistcoat, the man with nose like a walnut and eyebrows like a brush, was dozing. Luke couldn't blame him. He had never attended such a long wedding ceremony ever before. In front of him was a woman in a dress and a pillbox hat whose tuneless voice rose to a feverish pitch above all others during the hymns. That was the only time when the walnut-nosed man woke up and started to sing. Cynthia laughed out, covering her mouth with the program booklet, and Luke had a hard time checking himself.

About an hour and thirty minutes later, when the couple was finally pronounced man and wife, Luke not only felt relieved but also a little restless when he saw the newlyweds kissing. Cynthia clapped along with everybody else, and he stared at her, stopping himself from pulling her into his arms and kissing her with abandon. It wouldn't be right. Not there, at least.

"That was long," Cynthia said to him, as they watched the couple walk out of the church, arms linked. Her mom had cried a little when the new bride had hugged her after the ceremony, before exchanging pleasantries with the parents of the groom.

"I thought you didn't notice," Luke rolled his eyes, "I've never been to such a boring wedding."

"Well, you can jazz up the reception with your voice," she giggled, taking his arm. "Are you singing your favourite song?"

"I don't know. You said you wouldn't want me to sing."

"I never said that." She crossed her arms. "Julie's sure you're going to sing. If you back out, she'll come up with snide remarks. I wouldn't want that."

"Neither would I." He really wouldn't. Cynthia worried about him. But he worried about her. He couldn't let her down.

"I'll sing," he smiled, watching the last of the guests filtering out. Then he linked an arm around her waist and proceeded to walk out. "Let's show them what a great boyfriend I can be."

(To be continued)