My Darling Bride(64)

Chapter 20


EMMY


We approach a four-story brownstone with ornate columns on each side of the door as Brody explains that this is the home they grew up in.

The door swings open to reveal a butler, who then ushers us in to the foyer of the house. I swallow at the grandeur of the hallway. Intricate carvings line each wall and corner, a telltale sign of the home’s original features. A chevron hardwood floor stretches down the hall, dotted with plush Turkish rugs that cushion our feet. Exquisite high-end furniture fills the rooms: leather couches, sleek coffee tables, and glossy sideboards. Beautifully arched windows are everywhere. The afternoon sun streams through them, illuminating the place in a soft glow.

I mean, I’ve been inside ritzy homes before. Kian has a great apartment, and Mason, who’s a trust fund baby, has invited me to his parents’ beach house several times, but this—well, I have no words. It’s the most opulent home I’ve ever been in. Suddenly, I feel like a pauper and very much out of place.

Brody and Cas tell us they’re going to find the bar, leaving us alone. My nerves tighten.

Graham stops at a large, framed painting of a beautiful woman. The photographer captured her midlaugh, head tilted back as she plays a black baby grand piano. She’s wearing a red dress, with sandy-blonde hair spilling around her shoulders, and her blue eyes have a knowing gleam as they look lovingly into the camera. This must be . . .

“My mother,” he says gruffly. He hands me a champagne flute from a passing waiter. “My father is coming over.”

A man approaches us, tall with broad shoulders, his dark hair peppered with silver at the temples. His eyes are a calm, introspective gray, and his brows are straight, like Graham’s.

He hesitantly nods to Graham as he takes him in. “My son . . .” He stops, a weight in his voice. “It’s good to see you. I’m happy you came to celebrate your marriage with us.”

Graham shakes his hand. “Hello, Dad. This is my wife, Emmy.”

His father turns to me. “It’s a shame we haven’t met before now, but my son doesn’t return my phone calls. I’m Vale.”

“Hi,” I say, smiling. For some reason, I like him on the spot.

“And I hear you have a bookstore?”

“I’m the manager.”

“Ah. How did you meet Graham?”

“A charity ball.” I cling to my glass of champagne, needing something to anchor me as I lie boldly. “We recently reconnected, and things just fell into place.”

Vale smiles. “Young love is the sweetest. Any plans on children? I know it’s presumptuous to ask, but well, I’m sixty and don’t have grandchildren yet.”

Children?

I glance at Graham for guidance, but he’s wandered off to the waiter to pick up another drink. Without looking back at me, he walks into a room on the right, where I hear the din of other guests and low music.

Vale crooks my arm in his, a disappointed look on his face as he watches him disappear. “He left you to fend for yourself. Trial by fire, I suppose. He’s not subtle about his disdain for me, is he?”

“Hmm.”

His eyes linger on the framed portrait, his voice softening.

“My wife,” he says, “lit up a room. She was, is, the love of my life.” He pauses, seemingly lost in the memory of her, and I remain silent, not wanting to interrupt him.

He turns and looks at me. “We separated when Graham was a teen, and she died a few months later. I blame myself for her death, and, well, Graham and Brody can’t forget that I was the one who walked away.” He exhales deeply and gives me a pained, searching look. “I’m sure you already know this.”

I nod slowly. “I’m sorry. Families are complex. I could talk for hours about my own.”

He guides me down the hall. “I’ll hold you to that, but first let’s give you a quick tour of the place. Everything you see, she decorated. Hazel had a flair for decor. She had many talents, really. Music was her first love, but she adored books, so I thought I might show you this room.”

He opens a door, and we enter a library, the wall-to-wall shelves filled with books, several of the spines encased in leather. There’s even a sliding ladder. In the corner is an oak desk, and a red chaise lounge is off to the side. An overhead chandelier lights the entire room with a glow.

“Wow.” I ease out a first edition of The Catcher in the Rye and lightly stroke the cover before placing it back on the shelf.

“You’re welcome to come to the house whenever you want. Graham and Brody only come during the holidays, but I’d love to have the house full of laughter again on any occasion. He deserves to be happy after everything he’s gone through.” A solemn expression flashes across his countenance. “The truth is, I made mistakes with them. I didn’t handle things well after Hazel. I’m afraid there’s not much to do to fix that. I’m glad he’s found love.”

I shift uncomfortably. Although I appreciate his candor with me, I feel guilty that our marriage isn’t quite what Vale thinks.

He gives me a wan smile. “He needs family, something he refuses from me. I actually never believed he’d find someone after . . .” He clears his throat. “Well, none of that matters. I’m disappointed your brother and sister couldn’t come.”