I smile. I’ve never felt more beautiful than I did on our wedding day, emphasized the moment I reached Henry and he ignored all protocol, diving in to plant a searing kiss on my lips that left Reverend Enderbey clearing his throat and me flustered as we exchanged vows.
Every little detail that I lamented over these last months—from the silky invitations to the unconventional fig-and-blackberry-topped cheesecake to the dramatic black, white, and champagne table décor—will live forever in this folder. Joel missed nothing about the day, not even a shot of my diamond-laden wedding band next to Henry’s carved matte gold ring.
We reach the end of the Wedding Day folder. “Can we ask him to print all of these?” Because I’ll be revisiting them often.
“We can do whatever we want.”
There are other folders too. One marked Pre-Wedding. “What are in these other—oh my God.” I burst out laughing as Mama’s terrified face fills the screen. A Kodiak lingers in the river maybe fifty yards away, more interested in the fish. “I knew they’d seen plenty of bears, but I didn’t know Joel brought his camera with him.” In another shot, Mama stands beside Celeste, looking halfway through crossing herself, preparing to die.
But back at the docks in Wolf Cove, they’re all smiles for the camera, the yellow floatplane behind them.
The rest of the pictures in that folder are of our guests, enjoying all that Wolf Cove has to offer. Henry would not tell me what it cost, but he didn’t balk at making sure every one of our friends and family had a memorable time.
“Your mother really liked Joel. Kept calling him ‘that charming Frenchman.’”
“Yeah. Let’s hope she doesn’t look up his artwork.” She’ll never trust another person we introduce to her again. As it was, she nicknamed Margo “the Temptress” and kept a guarded eye on her whenever she was in the same room. Margo found it amusing.
Henry snorts.
“What’s in this folder?” I click the one marked After-Party.
My laptop screen fills with pictures from inside the staff lodge, where it seems our bridal party relocated to after the formal reception shut down. I assume Ronan and Connor led that charge. By the bottles of hard liquor on nearly every table surface and the drunken embraces, it seems grace and virtue didn’t follow.
My stomach drops as Connor’s bare chest fills the screen, his beefy arm slung over Violet’s shoulders. She’s winking at the camera, holding up a shot glass filled with red liquid.
Henry’s body stiffens.
Oh no.
“What the fuck are they doing?” he explodes.
“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like.” What else am I supposed to say? Damn it, Connor.
Henry scrambles off me and digs out his phone, takes a quick snap of my laptop screen, and then sends a text to Violet with one word: Explain.
“It might be a bit before she answers—”
“It’s eight forty-two a.m. there. She’s walking to school.” He climbs to his feet and paces. “What the fuck was Violet doing there, anyway? She shouldn’t be anywhere near the kind of shit that goes on around them. She’s sixteen years old!”
“She’s got to be messing with us.” I shut my laptop, afraid of what else might be in that folder.
“If he touched her, there isn’t a goddamn place in this world he can hide from me, and I don’t give a fuck if those two crawled into that mine to—”
Henry’s phone chirps with a text, stalling his rant. It’s followed by a second message a beat later.
He reads them and his shoulders sag.
“Is that her?”
Henry hands me his phone without a word, his laughter a relief to my ears.
Violet: Welcome to parenthood!
Violet: Chill, it was cranberry juice, and Ronan made me leave right after. Besides, they’re too young for me. I’m going to make my move on the ferry captain.
I can’t help my giggle. “See? She’s joking.”
Henry’s chuckle morphs into a groan. “This fucking kid is going to be a royal pain in my ass.”
“Probably.” She’s already firmly entrenched in the penthouse, even though she doesn’t officially move in until she’s finished school in a month. Her room—the farthest one from ours—is being remodeled to her specifications while we’re away. The security staff of Wolf Tower is all but wrapped around her pinkie finger, and Raj stocks the freezer with her favorite ready-to-bake chocolate chip cookie brand. We’re waffling between two private schools for her to start in the fall—including one with an exceptional drama program—and will visit both with her when we’re back from our honeymoon, right after we help Gayle and Howard move into their retirement home.