The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(32)

Kyla took one, grinned, then extended the plate to me. “Your mom is awesome.”

I grinned back. “She made an even bigger plate for graduation.”

Kyla’s red-brown brows arched. “What? And you didn’t invite me?”

I laughed. “You were too busy celebrating with your 37 relatives.”

Kyla gave a smile of acknowledgement. “Good point. Finishing that degree was definitely something worth celebrating, big time. Though, who would’ve thought I’d find my best friend in the final year of the course?”

I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. I’d met Kyla at college in Zayed-Kharan when I’d enrolled to do my final year of neurology there. We’d become instant friends, and our graduation had been two weeks ago, just in time for today’s celebration.

“I would’ve never expected it, either. This whole past year has been like a dream. A fairy tale.”

Stepping back with a smile, Kyla patted me. “And now, you get your fairy-tale wedding in New York.”

I nodded, although I couldn’t make her confident smile my own. “You really think I’m ready?”

Kyla took my hand, squeezed it, and looked straight into my eyes so that I could see just how serious she was.

“Lacie, I know you’re ready. I’ve seen you and Rashid together. You guys are two peas in a pod, I swear. Whenever you aren’t cracking up over something, you’re deep in some interesting conversation. When you’re with each other, you’re both lit up and glowing. You’re not just right for each other—you’re perfect.”

I hugged her again, overwhelmed with emotion.

“Thank you so much, Kyla. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably just invite that horrible woman you used to be friends with. What was her name?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nadia.”

She’d left me a few more furious voicemails over the last few months, about how Rashid and I were doomed, how I was kidding myself that I could get on without her. The latest ten-minute diatribe, Kyla and I had cackled over, with wine and chocolate.

“Anyway, let’s get you into this dress.”

First, I got out of my clothes. Then, gingerly, we maneuvered my body into the giant, ivory poof. As soon as Kyla had pulled up the back zipper to the top, a figure appeared at the door.

“Oh, Lacie.”

“Mom.”

She threw her arms around me, then, glancing down, jerked backwards.

“Your dress—it’s gorgeous! Oh, my darling!”

She hugged me again. I pressed her close, until her soft skin was against my cheek. Stepping back, she regarded me, my expertly-curled hair, my professionally made-up face, my lace dream of a gown, with tears in her eyes.

“I can’t tell you how happy this all makes me.”

“Oh, Mom.” I hugged her tighter. “This makes me so happy, too. All of this. You getting better. You and Dad being able to come. I’m so glad we waited. You were right.”

When we broke apart again, Mom was sent into a new fit of tears, which even a cookie couldn’t relieve. So, wiping her eyes, she fled from the room, saying, “I’m holding you up, anyway.”

Which wasn’t entirely wrong. Kyla and I checked the time to find that I only had about five minutes before the ceremony started.

Kyla was a flurry of action, grabbing her purse, throwing on her shoes, hurrying so much that she nearly sprinted out the door.

“Oh man, I gotta go! Good luck, girl, see you soon!”

And then she left, leaving me with the entirety of what was about to happen: walking down the aisle to get married to the love of my life. All I had time for was one last look in the mirror at the terrified goddess that was me, and then, I walked out.

My dad was waiting by the wooden doors. It was weird seeing him in a suit—I hadn’t seen him in one in years; he hadn’t even worn one for my graduation. The coiffed hair and close-cut beard didn’t even look like him. But those proud, light blue eyes brimming with tears were unmistakable.

“Lacie…this is…you are…” He held his arms out towards me for a hug. “My darling girl, this is the happiest day of my life.”

Still enwrapped in his arms, I patted his shoulder. “Me too, Dad, me too.”

Just then, the music started. Drawing apart, we exchanged a smile. I held onto his shoulder as he turned his wheelchair towards the aisle.

“Guess it’s time, then.”

“Guess it’s time.”

And then, we were off, and my gaze drifted from the walls and ceiling of lights and the beaming faces of my mom, Kyla, and Rashid’s family, to the only person that really mattered. Rashid.

He had never been more handsome—all clean-shaven and dressed to the nines in a navy, pinstriped suit that looked as if it had been made for him. My breath caught in my throat. The closer we got, the more everything around him blurred, the more the wedding march muffled. Until my dad had left and the minister was saying something.

“Thank you all for coming here today to celebrate Rashid and Lacie’s wedding.”

Rashid, with shining eyes, hand clasping mine so hard it felt like mine might fall off, turned to the crowd.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming and being here with us for this joyous event. We really appreciate your support and are so happy to have you.”