The Broken Vows: Zane and Celeste’s Story (The Windsors)

My brothers look restless when I walk in, their reactions mixed. Ares, Luca, and Dion look relieved, but Lex radiates annoyance. He reluctantly hands Luca a fifty, and I shake my head as I pop a peppermint candy into my mouth, the taste of menthol soothing my nerves.

“Cutting it close,” Ares says as I take my place at the altar, my gaze roaming over the venue. It’s stunning and far more beautifully decorated than I’d expected. I know Grandma put Sierra in charge of the wedding decorations, and I thought she might take it as an opportunity to show her displeasure, doing only the bare minimum. She hasn’t.

My eyes meet hers from her seat on the front row, and she smiles, her gaze haunted and unsure. She’s worried for me, but the hope in her eyes is hard to miss. Despite everything, she wants this to work out. If I asked her the question Celeste’s father just asked me, would she answer the same way I did? I suspect so.

A beautiful melody begins to play, and I look to my side to find my sister-in-law, Faye, seated behind the piano. My heart warms at the sight of her, and she shoots me an encouraging look, one that tells me she understands, and that everything is going to be okay. I smile back at her and straighten when the doors open.

My breath hitches, and everything fades away as she walks in on her father’s arm. My Celestial. She’s like a vision from my wildest dreams, the ones where I get to live in the past just a little longer, and looking at her hurts. That fucking dress. It kills me to know she’d wanted to wear it for Clifton, and had planned to let him take it off her.

I draw a shaky breath, barely able to drag my eyes off her long enough to throw George a polite nod. He smiles at me, his eyes filled with so much trust as he places Celeste’s hand in mine, and I hold on to her tightly, both of us trembling as we face each other.

She lifts her gaze, and fuck, just like that, she steals my breath away. She looks at me the way she used to, like I’m all she can see, and it makes me fucking weak in the knees. For a few moments, it’s easy to imagine that we made it, that we both want to be here, and that the future will be as we once envisioned it. It’s an illusion, but it’s one I cling to all the same. I’m so caught up in her gaze I can barely focus on the ceremony. I don’t snap out of it until the officiant addresses me.

“Do you, Zane Windsor, take Celeste Harrison as your wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”

Celeste’s breathing accelerates, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I do.”

Her hand trembles as I push a plain gold wedding band onto her finger. Val was in charge of the rings, and she seems convinced that I’ll want to replace them one day. Everyone so desperately hopes this’ll work out for the better, but Celeste and I aren’t like Luca and Val.

“Celeste Harrison, do you take Zane Windsor as your husband? Do you vow to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”

She draws a shaky breath, and a tear spills down her cheek as her gaze turns into something I’ve never seen before — a deep longing tinged with desperation and regret. “I do,” she says, her voice breaking.

She’s trembling so hard she nearly drops my ring, and I smile tenderly when she pushes it onto my finger, the sight of it tightening something in my chest. I never knew how much power a wedding ring could hold, but it truly does make me feel married.

I can’t look away from her tormented eyes as we’re pronounced husband and wife, my heart aching in a bittersweet kind of way. Does it truly hurt her this much to marry me? Why? Because of Lily? Clifton? Perhaps it’s both.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth, and I lean in to kiss her, intent on keeping it brief and chaste, but Celeste tilts her head as my lips meet hers, her hand wrapping around the back of my neck to pull me closer. I groan, every good intention going out the window when she kisses me back, the taste of menthol enveloping us both.

I wrap my hand around her waist and part her lips, my tongue tasting, teasing. A soft moan escapes from the back of her throat, just for me, and her grip on me tightens when she feels the way I harden for her. Her tongue tangles with mine, and she steals away my candy the way she used to. It does something to me, still.

The sound of cheering around us slowly brings me back to the present, and I pull away reluctantly. Celeste looks at me, her gaze overflowing with emotions — lust, uncertainty, but also something I don’t quite dare name. Another tear rolls down her face, and I sigh as I drop my forehead to hers. I draw a shaky breath before dipping in and stealing another kiss. She lets me, melting into me as I cup her face, discreetly swiping away her tears as I kiss her tenderly.

“Still disgusting,” Lex mutters, and Celeste chuckles against my mouth before pulling back, the sound bringing me the kind of pure joy I’ve been missing. He hasn’t spoken a word to her in the weeks leading up to our wedding, not even in Hawaii, but this feels a little like an olive branch.

I keep my arm wrapped around Celeste’s waist as we turn to face our guests, my gaze settling on Grandma, who’s got the most calculative yet pleased look in her eyes. I clench my jaw, instantly feeling on edge, and she grins at me. Ed Harrison looks much the same, and the look the two share doesn’t sit well with me. Next to him, though, sit Clara, George, and Archer. Clara smiles at me with a loving gaze. There’s no blame in her eyes, despite everything I did to Harrison Developments.

“Let’s go,” I murmur, my hand slipping into Celeste’s. She tightens her grip, like she’s holding on to me for strength. Thankfully, we opted to skip photos, knowing no one would be comfortable being forced together like that. Instead, we have a photographer taking candid shots. I don’t think I could force Sierra to stand anywhere near Celeste right now, and while Ed and my grandmother seem to be on speaking terms today, I don’t particularly want to risk it.

Celeste barely looks at me, keeping her focus straight ahead as we go through the motions and engage with our guests, her body tense next to mine. “We need to dance and cut the cake, then we can go,” I whisper as the last guest congratulates us.

She nods, her body freezing imperceptibly as I wrap my hand around her waist, keeping up the charade. It’s a slippery slope, pretending with her.

I lead her to the dance floor, and she looks uncertain when I offer her my hand. “What?” I murmur, my heart racing. “Did you forget how to dance?”

Her lips part as the familiar words register, and vulnerability crosses her face when she places her hand in mine, her gold nail polish sparkling in the light. “No,” she tells me, her voice trembling. “I just don’t want to dance with you.”

I smile as I pull her against me, and she smiles back. Those words were the start of something new at the gala, and standing here with her, right where we always hoped to be, I wish they could be again.