Chapter 214

~ Octavia ~

I could barely breathe in the wedding dress.

Not because it was tight—it fit perfectly. But because it was finally happening. This was real. Today, I was marrying Franklin, although again but from a good angle this time.

The bridal suite was chaos in the best way. Annie and Victoria were doing last-minute touch-ups on my makeup while Ava arranged my hair for the thousandth time. Sarah was making sure the veil was sitting perfectly, her face concentrated with the intensity of someone performing surgery.

The court hearing had happened. They all got what they deserved. We were not present, after the testimony we gave, Fredrick had found a way for us to be out of it. Good riddance to bad rubbish. We were busy planning and planning.

"Stop moving," Victoria laughed, waving her makeup brush at me. "You’re going to mess up the eyeliner."

"I’m not moving," I said, but I was fidgeting with the folds of my dress. "I’m just nervous."

"You’re allowed to be nervous," Annie said, squeezing my hand. "You’re getting married. To Franklin. Who, might I add, has been texting Clinton every five minutes asking if it’s time yet."

"He has?" I asked, smiling despite my nerves.

"He absolutely has," Annie confirmed. "Clinton showed me. It’s very endearing. Very ’I can’t wait to marry you.’"

Mum came into the room with tears already streaming down her face. She’d been crying since this morning, happy tears that she kept trying to wipe away with the back of her hand.

"You look beautiful," she said, wrapping her arms around me carefully so as not to disturb the dress. "So beautiful, baby girl."

"Don’t make me cry," I said, but I was already tearing up. "The makeup artist will kill me."

"Too late," mum laughed, but she was already grabbing tissues. She sat down heavily on the edge of the couch, fanning her face. "I’m sorry. I just... you’re so grown up. When did that happen?"

"Somewhere between the fake marriage and the real one," I said softly, reaching for her hand.

My dad came in next, and I saw something flicker in his eyes when he saw me in the dress. He looked like he was seeing me for the first time. Like I wasn’t his little girl anymore, but a woman about to make one of the biggest decisions of her life.

Mum excused herself, taking my bridesmaids with her, giving my dad and me a moment alone.

"Hi, Daddy," I said softly.

He crossed the room and kissed my forehead gently. "Your mother and I couldn’t be more proud of you. You know that, right?"

"I do," I said, squeezing his hand.

"Franklin is a good man," Dad continued. "He’s been through hell, but he came out better for it. And the way he looks at you..." He shook his head. "That’s love, Octavia. Real love. The kind that lasts."

He was quiet for a moment, just studying my face. "I remember when you were born. Your mother placed you in my arms, and I promised you that I would do everything in my power to make sure you knew your worth. To make sure you never settled for anything less than you deserved. I am sorry if this has started off the wrong way." He paused. "Franklin knows your worth. He sees it. Every single day."

I hugged him, careful not to mess up the dress, and he held me like he was trying to preserve this moment forever.

The walk down the aisle felt like it took both an eternity and a single breath. My dad’s arm was steady under mine, and I tried to focus on each step, on breathing, on not tripping over my own dress.

But then I saw Franklin.

He was standing at the altar in a perfectly tailored suit, and the moment our eyes met, everything else fell away. There was only him. Only us.

His expression shifted when he saw me, wonder, love, recognition. Like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

When we reached the altar, my dad placed my hand in Franklin’s and stepped back. Franklin’s grip was warm and secure, and he mouthed "Hi" like we were the only two people in the world.

The ceremony was beautiful. The vows were personal and intimate, spoken in voices that wavered with emotion. When Franklin promised to protect me and our love, I felt a flutter of something, the secret of our baby sitting between us, making his words even more meaningful.

"I promise to love you every day," he said, his thumb brushing my cheek. "To be the man you deserve. To build a life with you that’s filled with joy and safety and endless possibility."

When it came time to kiss, he did it slowly, deliberately, like he was savoring the moment. The entire room erupted in cheers.

At the reception, we sat at the head table with Frederick. Franklin’s grandfather looked incredibly handsome in his suit, and he beamed at us both like we’d hung the moon.

"I’ve been waiting for this day," Frederick said, gripping Franklin’s shoulder. "Waiting to see my grandson truly happy. And now I know he will be."

Mum and my dad joined us for photos, and I watched my mum link her arm through my dad’s as they smiled for the camera. They looked happy. Really happy. The kind of happy that comes from seeing your child find their person.

During dinner, speech after speech celebrated us. Clinton stood up and gave his own speech.

"And Octavia," Clinton said, looking at me, and Franklin "you’re the best thing that ever happened to this man. Never forget it Franklin."

When it came time to dance, Franklin led me to the floor for our first dance as husband and wife. His hand was on my waist, steady and sure, and I rested my head against his chest as we swayed to the music.

"Hi, wife," he whispered into my hair.

"Hi, husband," I whispered back.

We danced for what felt like minutes and hours at the same time. The world was just the two of us, moving together, our hearts beating in sync.

Later, as we mingled with guests, mum pulled me aside.

"Are you happy?" she asked, studying my face.

"Incredibly happy," I said, and it was true. This moment was mine. This marriage was mine.

"Good," mum said, kissing my forehead. "You deserve this. You deserve everything."

As the night wore on, I caught Frederick watching us from his seat. He was smiling, that satisfied smile of someone who’d seen hard times give way to beautiful moments. He caught my eye and gave me a small nod.

When midnight came and it was time to leave, Franklin pulled me close as we ran through the line of guests throwing rose petals. His arm was around my waist, and I could feel the excitement radiating off him.

We were married.

Finally, truly, completely married.

And tomorrow, we would leave for our honeymoon.

But tonight, as Franklin carried me over the threshold of the hotel suite we were staying at, I let myself exist fully in this moment. This perfect, beautiful moment where everything was right, and the future stretched out before us full of possibility.

I was married to Franklin, and this time it is filled with love.

And I’d never been happier.