Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(8)



“Honey, no one knows the future. No one knows at the beginning of a marriage how or when the end will come. Through death fifty years later or divorce in five years, nothing is guaranteed.”

“That’s my point. Why should I take this risk when it could end badly?”

Desiree shook her head, astounded at how good her daughter was at complicating things. How could she have forgotten that sympathy and understanding never got her anywhere with Willow? Just as she’d forgotten that Willow was more than capable of calling the wedding off because of a few last minute doubts.

“What if it doesn’t?” She hadn’t forgotten how to snap her daughter out of a good old-fashioned pity party.

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Willow’s voice was incredulous. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve already told you everything I know about the subject. What else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say that I’m not making a mistake, that James is a great guy, that I love him and he loves me.”

“You already know all that, don’t you?”

“Yes, but what if that’s not enough?”

Willow’s words slammed through her like a freight train. When had life gotten so mixed up that love ceased to be enough?

Had it ever been enough? Or had she just been stupid to think that it was?

She stared at her daughter, the silence in the room thickening. When she finally spoke, her voice was harsher than she’d intended. “What do you want, Willow Rose? A money-back guarantee that nothing bad’s going to happen to you? An iron-clad agreement that this is going to work out exactly like you planned?”

“Mom—”

“Because life doesn’t work like that. Everything isn’t always right or wrong, black or white. Sometimes it’s shades of gray. Sometimes—” She broke off at Willow’s shocked expression, bit back the words that burned in her throat, in her gut. She crossed the room to rest her palm on her daughter’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay.” But the words were jerky and her daughter rigid beneath her hands.

“No, it’s not.” Her hand slipped down to Willow’s chin and she gently tipped her face up until they were eye-to-eye. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Does James love you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to build a life with him?”

“Yes.”

“Have children with him?”

“Of course.” Willow’s eyes were huge, but the smile that trembled on her lips was suddenly real again.

“Grow old with him?”

“Eventually.”

“Then what else are you looking for, Willow?” Desiree smoothed a hand over her daughter’s long, black hair, stared into her heavily lashed, almond-shaped eyes. Jesse’s hair, Jesse’s eyes. Nausea churned, but she steadfastly beat it back.

“Today’s about a promise. Forget everything else. Forget the dresses, the people watching, all the planning. It’s all superfluous. Today is about a promise—the promise you’ll make to James and the one he’ll make to you.”

She stared out at the green and endless land she’d sacrificed everything for. “Have you ever broken a promise to James before?”

“Never.”

“Has he ever broken one to you?”

“Of course not.”

Desiree looked her daughter straight in the eye, even as anguish burned through her. “Then what else is there? If you trust him not to break his promises, if you know that you won’t break yours, what is there to be afraid of? Today he’ll promise to love and honor you forever and you’ll do the same for him.”

“Forever’s a long time, Mama.”

Desiree’s smile was bittersweet. “It’s only as long as you want it to be, baby. How long is that?”

Willow’s eyes grew soft and faraway, and Desiree could all but see the future in them. “An eternity, at least.” She smiled. “Thanks, Mama.”

Desiree winked. “Don’t mention it. What good would I be if my kids couldn’t ask for advice every now and again? Anything else?”

“No, I think you’ve covered it.” Willow rushed into her embrace, and Desiree savored the feel of her little girl in her arms, savored the rush of love and warmth.

A knock sounded at the door. “Willow?” called Anna softly. She was Willow’s oldest friend and her maid of honor. “Felipe is here to do your hair.”

“I’m coming,” Willow called, rushing toward the door. “Thanks, Mom.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Oh, hey, don’t forget the necklace and journal.” She gestured to the items on the dresser.

“I’ll get them later—I’m so scatterbrained today I’ll probably lose them if I take them now.”

“Have fun with the girls,” Desiree commented, smiling at Willow’s renewed enthusiasm. She kept smiling even as she remembered the promises Jesse had made to her through the years. Promises she’d counted on. Promises she’d never thought he’d break.

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