More Than Enough: Sweet Romance

← Previous Chapter: Chapter 22 /|\ 5 months later…BrionySpinning the sapphire and diamond oval engagement ring on my finger, trepidation marches down my spine as I wait for Evie in the blue and ivory drawing room. Now that the ceremony is about to begin, I’m ready to get on with it, but I can’t do that without my Matron of Honor. “She’ll be here,” Bronwyn mutters, frowning down at her phone for the 20th time. “I know, I know,” I sigh, once again shifting on the cream damask couch. “But, it feels like it’s been ten minutes since she said they were five minutes away.” “It’s only been four minutes, Bri. Take a deep breath…exhale.” I take my sister’s advice, but as I look up at her, I notice she’s still glued to her phone. Her long curls are pulled up into an elegant chignon, which is a nice change since she normally wears her hair down. Paired with the off the shoulder wine and navy gradient chiffon dress that floats over her lithe curves, Bronwyn’s a vision. Where I prefer to eat for exercise, Bronwyn exercises to eat. So, while we are identical, I’m softer where she’s more toned. She and Evie are sharing Maid and Matron of Honor duties, so they have the same gown, but taking her in, I think Bronwyn is winning best dressed today. “If it’s work, tell them I said you’re on vacation,” I grumble, folding my arms. Her lips are pressed together when she looks up at me. “It’s fine. Are you ok?” I smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be? All I had to do was show up and marry my best friend.” Bronwyn snorts as her phone buzzes once again. I slowly shake my head as I think of new ways to kill the man of my dreams. Who throws a surprise wedding..for the bride? If I wasn’t absolutely certain that I’m in love with the man, I’d certainly think it’s a shotgun wedding. Does it count as an arranged marriage if the wedding is planned with your assistance but without your knowledge? It’s one thing for Nick not to tell me about it when we finally sorted out our feelings. Fine. That could be excused, because it does sound slightly unhinged when taken out of context. But, what about the night before he left for New Zealand? When he rented out the rooftop restaurant in Midtown and decorated the place in fresh flowers to propose? That would have been a fine time. Maybe after his pretty speech. “You have my heart, Briony. It’s always been yours. Marry me. Please. Spend the rest of your life with me, and we’ll figure everything else out, the schedules, the trucks…our children, if you’ll bear them for me.” When he slid the ring on, a simple, ‘by the way, love, we’re getting married in March’ would have sufficed. I probably would have heard him over the sound of my blubbering. Probably. Or any of the late nights we spent talking through video calls. Not counting the week I took off in December to spend with him in New Zealand, or the week he flew back in January to spend with me in London as we worked out the logistics for Night’s launch in September. But, to show up for a fancy party at the manor house of a Bakewell country estate, which could have guest starred in any number of Pride and Prejudice adaptations, with a mere week’s notice that you’re getting married…well..let’s just say, I’m still thawing from the shock. Yet, as the time ticks closer to 3pm, I’m thoroughly warming to the idea of walking out of here as Nick’s wife. Being able to sleep beside the man who has my heart and life in his hands? It’s worth it for the snuggles alone! Yep…where do I sign, Mr. Officiant? Add the fact we’ll be starting our family, and I’m wondering why we’re still sitting in this room! Between the success of Day and the remodel we’re doing for Night, I’ve been so busy I haven’t even been able to see Bronwyn, except for family dinner, or the odd lunch date. Yes, we talk on the phone, but I really miss spending time with her. I’ll have to do better about that. We’ll be in England for the next little while, if there isn’t a surprise honeymoon as well. But, when Nick and I get back to New York, I’m going to make sure I spend more time with her. Now that Nick has finished shooting an adaptation of a book by one of his favorite thriller authors, Callum Black, he’ll be around more. He’s playing the deductively brilliant Detective Ian Faulk in Apple & Anise, and since I enjoyed the series once he got me into it, I’m looking forward to going to the movie premier with him. While there’s no talk of movie sequels yet, Nick did confirm the author reached out to him, and offered to sign him on for the audio books. After seeing Nick’s performance in Warmth Like the Sun, which was a runaway success over the holidays, Mr. Black said his wife wouldn’t let him sleep until he reached out to make an offer. At any rate, it’s not something Nick will have to worry about until the fall, and thankfully, it won’t involve any travel. Even better news is that Nick decided to do MacBeth after all. He’ll only have a few weeks in London until we need to head back to New York to start rehearsals at the end of April. So, baby Evie had better come on time so I can get my cuddles. Speaking of Evie..where is she? Crossing over to the door, I keep a firm grip on the strapless white gown that drapes my curves in tulle, lace, and crystal. Thankfully it’s lightweight, but there’s no need in tripping and killing myself. Not when I’m this close to marrying the love of my life. With my strappy white heels clicking on the parquet floors, I cross the room to peek out of the door. Arching my neck to see down the hallway lined with massive portraits, I let out an impatient sigh just as Evie comes huffing around the corner. When she catches sight of me, she squeals, causing me to squeal in return. After nearly collapsing in laughter as Bronwyn and I try to hug over her enormous belly, I pull up a chair and help her sit. “You’re gorgeous, darlings! I can’t believe it’s really here!” Evie exclaims, squealing with Bronwyn. I squint at them. “Were y’all colluding behind my back as well?” Bronwyn chuckles. “Did you think Mom and Dad would come with zero incentive? Even if the trip was paid for, you know them. It would take a destination wedding to get them out of Brooklyn!” “You’re so right!” I say completely dumbfounded. I did think they agreed too easily, but still. My eyes widen as I stare at Bronwyn. “And you! When do you ever take off from work? Yet, you’ve been here two weeks already, and plan to stick around until after Evie gives birth…” my voice trails off as I feel the blood drain from my face. “Did you lose your job, Wyn?” Bronwyn holds up a hand, as she comes to wrap her arms around me. “No, I didn’t lose my job. I just have some vacation time..and perspective. That’s all.” Evie snorts, her cute new bangs shaking with her movements. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it, now? Don’t make me laugh, Wyn. You know I can’t control my bladder.” Bronwyn has always been the chill one. She serenely floats from room to room, and never causes any trouble. So, I’m as surprised as I am baffled when she shoots Evie the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen, and, that’s saying a lot. I shared a room with her for 21 years! Evie snickers in return, and as my eyes bounce between the two of them, I feel like I’m missing something. “What’s going on?” Bronwyn shifts from side to side. “Nothing that can’t wait until after the wedding.” I frown. “Well, at least give me a preview…” Bronwyn heaves a sigh, likely knowing I’ll worry about it until she tells me. “I’m just thinking of a change. I’ll be here interviewing for a few companies for the next three weeks, and Evie and Gene are graciously allowing me to extend my stay with them until I get on my feet.” I reel back in shock as Evie shifts to her side with a finger up. “Free childcare, remember!” Bronwyn snorts. “Yeah, yeah, I got it!” “But, that’s great news Wyn! Your job has been taking advantage of you for years! I’m so glad you’re finally putting yourself first! And, Nick and I will be here at least six months out of the year..this is so exciting!” Bronwyn smiles, but it’s more of a grimace as it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Before I can say anything, there’s a knock on the door. Alfie steps in with our permission, looking dapper in his navy suit and wine colored ascot. He and Eugene are going to escort Bronwyn and Evie respectively, but I can tell his mind is on the arrangements and not the moment. “Relax, Alf,” I say, crossing the room to give him a hug. “You’ve done a beautiful job. You have no idea how grateful for you, Nick and I are.” His dark features twist into a scowl as he looks down at me. “Is this supposed to be gratitude? I don’t know if I like it…that man just laid the juiciest kiss on my cheek and told me to fetch his wife.” Bronwyn, Evie and I crack up at the look of disgust on his face as he asks if we’re ready. It takes us two minutes to recover, and another minute to fix makeup before we are indeed ready. “You’re beautiful, Bri,” Alfie says, holding the door open with a watery smile. “Thanks, Alf.” I kiss his cheek before walking past him, and as I step into the corridor with my lily bouquet, I spin around to wink at my little entourage with a grin. “Let’s go get him!”Nicholas “Ladies and Gentleman, I present Mr. And Mrs. Nicholas and Briony Bancroft!” The officiant loudly declares. Gazing down at Briony’s radiant smile makes my heart joyfully skip a beat. And, as our families erupt in thunderous applause, only one thought blares at me: Briony is really mine. After months of sitting on the phone through tears and laughter, sharing our annoyances, sadness and joy, as surely as I belong to her she also belongs to me. That thought fills me with so much wonder that I happily pull her in for another kiss. “Alright, boss, save some of it for the honeymoon!” Alfie distantly calls out to laughter and cheers. I can hear my nephews losing their minds with the rest of the family, but I’m only able to break away when Briony laughs against my lips. “Where is that honeymoon again?” She whispers, raising a brow. “Exactly where you wanted, my life. We’re going home,” I smile. As her eyes widen and she smiles in delight, I smile in return as I whisper, “Are you happy, Mrs. Bancroft?” “Incandescently,” she grins with a wink, before we’re overcome by a sea of hugs and congratulations. The area for the reception is just as beautiful as the room where the ceremony was held. Soft lighting warms the wood paneling and illuminates the tall vases bursting with early spring blooms. After sitting down to dine at the long table that’s been provided for our party of 14, we ooh and ahh over our place settings as everyone chats amiably over the goat cheese and pear salad. Light dinner music plays as Briony’s parents converse with mine, and I smile, thrilled that everyone is able to get on so well. Then again, it’s not the first family dinner. The activities that Alfie, Briony and I planned for the week leading up to today, meant there was plenty of time to get acquainted. I’m just so happy that everyone was able to make it. BANG! One of the large wooden doors vibrates when it slams open as a broad shouldered man runs into the room. His dark, medium length hair whips around as he wildly glances about. As he’s wearing a fairly expensive looking navy three-piece suit, I realize he must be part of another party and gotten lost. Yet, before Alfie can stand up, we look on in shock as two of the security personnel burst through the door and make a grab for the man. He deftly skirts them as he runs toward us looking around our table. When his eyes land on Briony, he momentarily freezes long enough for one of the security men to get a hold on his shoulder. It’s when he effortlessly spins out of the hold, and in three moves that I missed because I blinked, has the two security guys kneeling on the ground holding their midsections as they try to catch their breath, that I think there may be a problem. Due to a few isolated events over the years, Alfie usually hires ex-military to handle my security when it’s called for. They usually don’t have much more to do than shake off a couple of overzealous members of paparazzi, yet, the agility with which the man is able to shake them off has me standing at the same time that Alfie jumps up and rushes toward him. “Wait! Stop!” Briony cries out, causing me to look back at her in confusion. However, I realize it wasn’t Briony when I see her gaping at Bronwyn. My new sister in-law is bracing herself against the table where she shot up, staring at the man who has thankfully halted his progress. However, Alfie’s fist is already sailing towards the man’s face when I yell, “No, Alfie!” I’m too late. Or I would be, if the man hadn’t nimbly ducked under his arm, executing a brilliant parkour move as he shoved Alfie off balance, and once again rushed toward the table. “Stop!” Bronwyn bellows, freezing the man in his tracks. “Winnie, please give me a moment!” The man exclaims, his softly accented voice laced with pain. Is he French? Someone has stopped the dinner music, because it’s quiet as Bronwyn’s chest heaves up and down while she silently stares at him. Briony and I look at each other and mouth, ‘Winnie?’ “Would someone please explain what’s going on?” Joe demands as he stands up, his eyes bouncing between his daughter and the interloper. Bronwyn starts to say, “It’s just a big misunderstanding,” at the same time that the man says, “I sincerely apologize for the intrusion, I didn’t expect to meet this way.” “What way is that? Who are you?” Joe asks as Tonya pulls on his arm trying to get him to sit down. “Not now, Joe,” she hisses looking between their daughter and the stranger with an apologetic smile. The man slowly approaches, his grey blue eyes never leaving Bronwyn’s face as he quietly responds to her father’s question in French. “Certainly not by crashing her sister’s wedding.” “Well, that’s a relief,” I smirk, also responding in French. He acknowledges me with a nod, before returning his attention to Bronwyn, who appears to finally be melting from her tenure as a statue. “Gale, Turner, thank you, we’re fine,” I call to the two security men who are awkwardly standing around trying to figure out what’s going on. As they leave, I nod at Alfie who rolls his eyes, but comes to stand behind Briony and Bronwyn. “I said everything I had to say in the letter. So, what are you doing here, Michel?” Bronwyn calmly asks, her face a blank mask that brings a distinct chill to the air around her. Michel chuckles as he pulls on an earlobe. “I think you left out some things, ma chérie.” All heads swivel back to her as she sighs, but before Bronwyn can respond, my wife jumps up, her diamond tiara sparkling just as fiercely as her eyes. “Michel? As in your workmate and roommate, Michelle?” She exclaims, properly horrified. All eyes swing to Bronwyn, who sharply nods, but doesn’t say anything else as she takes another deep breath. There’s a bit of a kerfuffle where Joe is protesting as Tonya tries to lead him out of the room. Briony folds her arms, leaning toward her sister as she whispers, “Is this a Single White Female situation, because if it is—” “No, Bri,” Bronwyn squares her shoulders, and pushes back her chair. “I’m sorry for the interruption everyone. Please carry on as I see him off,” she apologizes to everyone. As she steps around her chair, her dress swirling about her, Michel mutters a French oath that has my brows shooting up. That’s not the reaction one would expect from a roommate. His eyes have widened to the size of saucers, and well…judging from the rest of his face, the man looks absolutely smitten with Bronwyn. She, however, wears the same determined chin that Briony gets when she can’t be swayed by anything. Briony puts out her hand to stop Bronwyn as she starts past her. “Will you at least take Alfie with you?” Bronwyn shakes her head as she continues on. “I don’t need him. Thanks, Bri.” Alfie grunts as she walks past him with a pat on his shoulder. Michel’s gaze sweeps over her in such an intimate way, that I’m not sure if I’m offended, or if I should be taking notes. “You look extraordinary, Winnie,” he reverently breathes. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t be here, Michel,” she grimaces as she marches past him. He reaches out, clasping her hand in his, but it must be gentle since she’s able to easily snatch it back. “Amour, can we not sit down and talk?” I blink. Ok… “Why?” Bronwyn grits out. “It’s not going to change anything. I left you the apartment. What more do you want from me?” It’s so quiet that Michel’s whispered, “You,” seems to echo around the room. Likely because everyone has abandoned dinner in favor of the drama playing out in front of us. Briony and I look at each other wide eyed, and she shrugs, just as clueless as the rest of us. Fascinating. Bronwyn freezes, swiping a shaky hand toward curls that are now pinned up in her fancy updo. Her hand drops to her side as she huffs, “No. That’s the end of it. Good bye, Michel.” “Just let me—” “NO!” Briony flinches from the force of Bronwyn’s voice, which is very rarely above a few decibels, even when she and Briony are wailing in laughter. I look down at Briony who’s now looking as tightly coiled as a spring. Ok, this has gone on long enough. I stand up and cross towards them. Michel isn’t much taller than me, but he is more muscular than I am. Judging from how fast he moved earlier, his muscles aren’t for show either. So, I’m purely approaching with the hope that his desire not to ruin my wedding day factors heavily into his decisions at the moment. “Look, Michel, Bronwyn. I understand you two have something to discuss. Perhaps we can settle you in a different room, and you can continue—” Bronwyn looks up at me so fiercely, I step back feeling as if Briony has just chastised me. “Ok, maybe not,” I nervously concede. Turning away from Bronwyn I purse my lips. “I’m sorry, Michel. You seem like a lovely man. Perhaps you two can discuss this another—” “I will not leave here without her,” he quietly says as he continues gazing at her. I run a hand through my gelled hair, and immediately grimace. “I understand that’s how you feel, however, as her new brother in-law, I have to say, I’m siding with her in this. So if you’ll kindly—” Michel eyes me for a moment, and the ferocity of emotion I see in his eyes cuts my words off abruptly. He clears his throat, and holds out his hand. “Thank you, brother in-law for protecting Winnie. She said she would be safe here, and I’m glad to see that was…mostly true.” Who is he to call me brother in-law? I narrow my eyes on him, but don’t extend my hand. “Bronwyn, will you kindly return to the table? I’ll show Michel out.” Bronwyn’s icy façade finally breaks as she nervously eyes the two of us, squaring up. Ok, I’m squared up. He looks as nonchalant as ever. In fact, he’s tucked his hand in his pocket. “No, Nick. It’s ok. I’ll make sure he finds his way out. Thanks.” Interesting. I take a step back, as she puts a hand on Michel’s arm and begins tugging him away. I don’t miss the way he smiles as he turns, and when he tosses a wave at me, I notice the ring on his finger. My brows shoot up, but as I take a breath, the doors fly open, and in comes Joe and Tonya. Joe’s face is no longer as red as his hair, but when he sees Bronwyn with her hand on Michel, he fiercely scowls. I leave them animatedly whispering at the other end of the hall as I return to the rest of our guests. Briony shoots me a questioning look, but I shake my head. There’s certainly more there than meets the eye, but it’s something we’ll have to hear from Bronwyn. “Sorry about that everyone. Would it be possible to restart the music?” I turn to Alfie who nods. “I’m sure everyone’s food is cold, but maybe we’ll be able to enjoy a less dramatic ending than—” “WHAT?” Joe bellows from the other end of the room. As all heads turn to look over at the little group huddled together, I heave a sigh and resume my chair beside my wife. “My guess is, there’s going to be a huge story to tell our ten children,” I lean in to whisper. Briony looks up at me with alarm, but her voice is dripping with amusement when she whispers, “For an old man, you sound really positive about that number, Mr. Bancroft.” I smile in return as I drape an arm over her shoulder and pull her in close, loving the feel of the soft skin at her neck. “I may not know the final number,” I concede, my lips against her ear, “but I do know practice makes perfect. And I really want to make sure we’re perfect..so prepare yourself for lots and lots of practice, Mrs. Bancroft. I plan to savor every moment…” Briony’s cheeks redden, but she grins up at me, her hand on my knee. “My, my, the student has become my—” “PAPA!” A young voice cries out. Briony and I turn in time to see a young blonde girl of about five or six years come barreling into the room. She’s dressed in a fur lined cream skirt and coat set, and as she flies into the room, a harried looking older woman comes huffing in behind her. The woman is quite red in the face, but seems to dissolve in relief as she sees Michel. “I’m sorry Mr. Rénard! She got away from me!” His daughter runs toward him, but as her watery eyes catch sight of Bronwyn, the brightest smile lights her face and she changes trajectory. “Mama! Papa didn’t say you’d be here!” The little girl cries in French as she launches herself at Bronwyn who catches her with a sob. “Oh! Doriane! My sweet girl, I’ve missed you so much!” Bronwyn exclaims, also in French, as the girl begins wailing. We can hear the tears in Bronwyn’s voice from here, and my brows shoot up as my suspicions are confirmed. Bronwyn and Michel are married, and he has a daughter. But, no one is more shocked than Briony. “Are you alright, my love?” I venture. However, Briony’s already on her feet and storming around the table towards the little group, her face a mask of indignation. “I’m gonna guess there was a lot more going on than the rent…” she calls, charging towards them, her dress billowing behind her. I smile. My life has certainly become a lot more interesting…← Previous Chapter: Chapter 22 /|\ Thank you for reading More Than Enough! Want to find out what’s been happening with Bronwyn and her mystery man? Read the first chapter of When You’re Enough!Subscribe for new posts every week!Want more stories? Get full access to I'm Just Here For BOOKS at everblueauthor.substack.com/subscribe