Chapter 9 - The Wedding Marcus Wasn’t Supposed to Attend
The wedding was supposed to be small.
Elena wanted forty guests.
Dominic interpreted “forty” as “one hundred eighty.”
They compromised at ninety-two.
Then Gabriel invited security.
One hundred twelve.
Mrs. Patterson invited her church friends.
One hundred thirty-seven.
Elena gave up.
The ceremony was held at a restored coastal estate overlooking the Atlantic.
No casino ballroom.
No private skyscraper.
Elena wanted sunlight.
Flowers.
Normalcy.
Dominic gave her all three.
Marcus was not supposed to attend.
His prison transfer request had been denied.
He insisted he did not care.
Nobody believed him.
The morning of the wedding, Elena stood in front of a mirror while Mrs. Patterson fastened her mother’s old necklace around her throat.
“You’re shaking,” the older woman said.
“I know.”
“Want to run?”
Elena looked toward the window.
Dominic stood below with Noah.
The mafia boss was attempting to fix a seven-year-old’s bow tie.
He was losing.
“No.”
Elena smiled.
“Definitely not.”
Downstairs, Dominic was apparently experiencing his own crisis.
Gabriel found him adjusting his cuff links for the fifth time.
“You’re nervous.”
“No.”
“You’ve checked the door eleven times.”
“Security.”
“Elena is upstairs.”
“Exactly.”
Gabriel smiled.
Dominic glared.
Then a black government vehicle arrived.
Dominic’s expression changed.
Two federal marshals exited.
Between them—
Marcus.
Prison suit replaced with a dark formal suit.
Electronic restraint beneath one pant leg.
Dominic stared.
Marcus smiled.
“Surprise.”
“How?”
“Your future wife.”
Dominic looked upstairs.
Elena had petitioned the court.
Marcus’s cooperation, good conduct, and extraordinary circumstances earned him four supervised hours.
Dominic hugged him.
Marcus stiffened.
“This is uncomfortable.”
“Shut up.”
“People are watching.”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s new.”
“Yes.”
The ceremony began.
Noah walked Elena down the aisle.
She had asked if he wanted to.
He replied:
“Obviously.”
Halfway down, he whispered:
“Mom?”
“What?”
“Dominic is crying.”
She looked.
He was.
Only slightly.
But enough.
When Elena reached him, she whispered:
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to run?”
“Absolutely not.”
They laughed.
Their vows were simple.
Dominic promised to never decide Elena needed protection without speaking to her first.
Everyone laughed.
Elena made him repeat it.
He did.
Elena promised to stop breaking into dangerous buildings.
Dominic raised one eyebrow.
She corrected:
“Unless medically necessary.”
More laughter.
Noah carried the rings.
Gabriel stood beside Dominic.
Mrs. Patterson cried before anyone else.
Marcus tried not to.
Failed.
When the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, Dominic kissed Elena.
Not like a mafia boss claiming anything.
Like a man who still remembered a dark basement.
A flashlight.
A stranger who came back.
At the reception, Derek arrived.
Elena had invited him because Noah wanted both fathers there.
The situation could have been awkward.
It was.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Then Noah dragged Derek and Dominic toward the cake.
“Both dads have to cut it.”
Elena froze.
Derek froze.
Dominic looked at Noah.
“Both dads?”
Noah shrugged.
“You’re my bonus dad.”
Dominic looked away.
His eyes were wet again.
Derek smiled.
“You heard him.”
Together they helped Noah cut the cake.
It was messy.
Imperfect.
Wonderful.
Later Marcus approached Elena.
“I owe you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward Dominic.
“You went back.”
Elena understood.
“If you hadn’t…”
He stopped.
Dominic would have died.
Marcus carried that truth.
“You could have released him yourself.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He looked ashamed.
“Because I wanted him to suffer more than I wanted myself to be decent.”
Elena nodded.
“And now?”
“Now I’m trying the decent part.”
“That sounds harder.”
“It is.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Marcus laughed.
Before marshals returned him to custody, Dominic walked him outside.
They spoke privately.
Marcus eventually hugged him.
This time he initiated it.
When Dominic returned, Elena stood alone near the ocean.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind.
“Mrs. Crane.”
She groaned.
“I’m keeping Morales professionally.”
“I expected nothing less.”
“Good.”
“Mrs. Crane at home?”
“Negotiable.”
He kissed her neck.
She smiled.
Then Noah ran toward them.
“Come on!”
“For what?” Dominic asked.
“Family picture!”
The photographer arranged them.
Elena.
Dominic.
Noah.
Derek joined at the edge.
Mrs. Patterson.
Gabriel.
Even the marshals allowed Marcus back for thirty seconds.
The picture was strange.
Complicated.
Nothing like the families in magazine advertisements.
Elena loved it.
May you like
The camera flashed.
And for once, nobody inside the frame was pretending.
