Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)(29)

“If you stay in New York long enough, you’ll realize this. It doesn’t matter where you go or what you attend—they all look the same. Pompous old men will brag about their portfolios and riches while their trophy wives will admire each other’s gowns and gossip about the latest scandal. It never changes.”

“And what would you know about interesting conversations?” I challenged. I eyed my food one more time as my stomach growled.

“Nothing, I’m sure. As always, I’m just here for the booze.”

He looked at my untouched plate as he walked up to me. Our shoulders touched for the briefest moment.

“Better eat up, dear sister. They’ll start to notice your absence soon.”

Then, he was gone.

And I was left wondering just how many sides there were to my strange and mysterious new brother and whether I’d ever figure them all out.

“DO YOU REMEMBER the first time we danced to this song?” I asked.

Lailah and I slowly swayed back and forth to the haunting lyrics of “All of Me” by John Legend. Everyone was gathered around as we took our first dance as husband and wife.

“How could I forget?” Lailah answered, her warm smile lighting up the room. “You hummed the lyrics in my ear—perfectly in tune, I might add—which only added more proof to the ever growing pile of evidence that you were far too perfect to be real.” Her brief laugh interrupted her thoughts. “Then, later that evening, you asked me to move in with you.”

My grip tightened around her waist as I pulled her against me, remembering the sheer joy we’d felt that night after discovering that she was being released from the hospital. It was everything we’d hoped for—a start at something real.

“And now? Now that you’ve peeked behind the curtain and gotten to see the real Jude, am I still perfect?” I asked with a wolfish grin.

“No.” She laughed. “You snore when you’re sick, and you never put the toilet seat down. And don’t get me started on the empty cereal boxes in the pantry.”

I chuckled under my breath.

“But I wouldn’t want you any other way,” she said with sincerity. “Love isn’t about perfection. It’s a beautiful chaotic mess, and there isn’t anyone I’d rather spend my life with than you.”

“So, you’re saying I’m not perfect anymore?” I grinned down at her.

“Sorry, babe. You’re still pretty hot though,” she offered with a shrug.

I just shook my head, using the lull in the conversation to step back. I quickly adjusted my feet and hands, and before she even realized what was going on, I had her spinning. She giggled, a young joyful sound, until she fell back into my arms. The guests clapped and hollered as we continued dancing.

She just looked up at me and smiled.

“You know,” I began, “you’re not perfect anymore either.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“The minute I saw those feminine products all over my bathroom, you suddenly became a little less perfect.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Tampons? Really? Holding my hair back in the hospital while I puked my guts out didn’t do it?”

“No. That just reminded me how strong you were,” I answered honestly. “How strong you still are.”

A few glasses clinked together before a few more chimed in, and soon, much like the rest of the evening had gone, the entire ballroom was filled with the sounds of people tapping their glasses with spare utensils.

The wait staff must really hate this wedding ritual.

I didn’t know how I’d made it into adulthood without ever knowing of this particular wedding tradition, but I had been well introduced to it now. As the chorus of clinking stemware rose, I looked down at my bride and smiled.

“I guess we should oblige,” I said.

“Oh, okay.”

A shy grin tugged at the corner of her mouth just before I bent down to capture her lips. The sound of clinking glasses dissolved into cheers as the crowd finally got what they’d asked for—a kiss from the bride and groom.

My finger wove into her hair as I pulled her closer, never breaking the rhythmic sway of our bodies. Her fingers clutched my forearm before sliding around my wrist. Then, I felt her lips curve into a tender smile.

“You wore them.”

“Of course I did.” I gazed down at my wrist where the cuff link Marcus had given me rested.

It was part of a set, and were a wedding gift from my bride.

“Do you know what they are?” she asked against my ear.

I shook my head, turning my hand to get a better look. The blue-green stone caught the light, illuminating the bright color within. She’d chosen a simple silver setting, which only enhanced the raw edges that the jeweler had left untouched.

“It’s sea glass from the beach where we took our first walk through the sand.”

My eyes flew up to hers in surprise. “You never cease to amaze me,” I managed to say. My voice was rough, and I was fighting back overwhelming emotions.

“As do you.”

Our first dance melted into a second and a third until it felt like we’d been dancing for hours. Our family and friends all joined us, and the music picked up as we celebrated the day in style.

About an hour later, the cake was brought out, and we posed in front of it for the photographer.