Woke

by Peggy Jaeger

“How is Phillipa?” Nick asked.

  “Talkative,” I said. “She’s got quite a story to tell. Your friend needs to come back and listen to her once Trey is in lock-up. But first, I need to go tell her what happened. Wait for me?”

  Cade took my hand in his free one and ran his thumb along mine. “I’m not leaving you. Bank on that.”

  “I am,” I said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Three months later…

  “I never thought I’d see this day.” My mother ran a hand down the white dress lying across my bed. She swiped at the corner of her eye as she looked over at me.

  “Was is it about a wedding that always makes women cry?” I asked, glancing over at Phillipa.

  “If you ask me it’s because they’re thinking about the poor bride-to-be and everything they’re giving up in their lives. I’d be weeping, too.”

  I laughed and said, “You’re jaded.”

  She lifted her champagne flute to me and nodded. “Truth.”

  Since the night she’d been admitted, and every day since, Phil and I had either spoken on the phone or seen one another. It was as if we hadn’t lost those fifteen years of our friendship at all. With Trey in jail, charged for Cade’s assault and my drugging, Phil had moved back home to her mother’s house and taken her life back.

  She’d shared a few things over the past months about her life with Trey, and it was no surprise she’d looked haggard and scared when I’d seen her on the street that day. Possessive, manipulative and controlling, Trey had commandeered and ruled her life from the moment they said their I do’s. And I’d been correct when I assumed he’d only married her so she couldn’t be compelled to testify against him if it came to that. While he’d never physically abused her, the emotional and psychological manipulation he’d heaped on had taken a toll on her health. She’d felt powerless to leave him because whenever she threatened to he’d bring up her complicity in what he’d done on the night of my party.

  With one of the best attorneys in the state hired by her mother, Phil made a deal with the district attorney and gave evidence against her husband at his pre-trial hearing. Trey’s parents had refused to help him once they learned what he was accused of and they’d frozen his trust fund. With no available money and a defense lawyer assigned by the city, Trey was unable to post bail and was sitting in jail until his trial. Everyone involved hoped he’d be smart enough and accept a plea deal.

  “Where’s Maeve?” My mother glanced down at her crystal watch. “We need to get going.”

  “She had one more thing to do,” I said, putting the finishing touches on my makeup.

  “Honestly, if she makes us late to the church—”

  “I’ve never been late for anything in my life,” Maeve said, rushing into my room garbed in a full-length slip, barefoot, and carrying a small box. “And I’m not gonna start with my own wedding. I found my bible so all I need to do is get my dress on.”

  “About time,” my mother said. “Let’s get you dressed so you can go meet your man at the altar.”

  “Sit down so I can put some makeup on you,” I said, pointing to my vanity. “We don’t want all that beautiful pale skin looking ghostly in your pictures.”

  “Don’t make me look like someone I’m not, Aurora. I want Nick to be able to recognize me when we say our vows.”

  “He won’t be able to take his eyes off you,” I said, hugging her.

  “He hasn’t once in all the time since you two got back together,” my mother added. “It’s like he’s afraid you’re going to disappear from his life again if he doesn’t keep an eye on you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere and he knows it.” Maeve glanced at me in the mirror and winked.

  An hour later Murphy opened the limo door and helped first my mother, then me and Phil, and finally the bride, out. I’d volunteered Phil to be co-bridesmaid and I’d been thrilled when Maeve agreed. Hearing what she’d been through with Trey, Maeve’s heart had gone out to my old friend and agreed we needed to get her life back to some sense of normalcy. Being a bridesmaid went a long way in showing Phil she was accepted back into the fold.

  The question of who would walk Maeve down the aisle and give her away was settled when the bride-to-be declared, “I’m on the upside of fifty years old and can walk on my own two feet to meet the priest and the love of my life.”

  Murphy escorted Maeve up the church steps, with the three of us in tow.

  It was Nick who had insisted on a church wedding. He knew how important Maeve’s faith was to her and wanted to make the day as memorable for her as he could. I fell in love with him a little more every time I saw the two of them together. My mother wasn’t kidding when she said he never took his eyes off her when they were in the same room. He also found a thousand reasons to touch her whenever he could. A swipe of her hand when she was talking, holding her arm encircled within his when they walked together. The man was head over loafers in love with her and anyone who saw them together knew it.

  We were met at the back of the church by the priest and Cade.

  Cade.

  If ever there was a man born to wear formal wear it was Kincade Enright. He’d been a tall stick of sexy the first time I’d seen him in workout gear; handsome and charming in a tailored suit at the auction. But in a tuxedo? Good God, the man had all my female organs screaming “take me, take me” when I spotted him.

  While my mother and Maeve spoke with the priest and Phil drifted off to give us some privacy, Cade took my hand and led me to a tiny anteroom off the vestibule.

  “The priest told me they call this the bawl room,” he explained, “because it’s where you bring crying kids when they startup in church.” He pulled me into his arms, careful to avoid crushing my bouquet and hugged me.

  “I can’t tell you how much I want to kiss you right now, but I know you don’t want me to muss you.”

  “I applaud your restraint,” I said, with a laugh.

  He held me at arm’s length, his gaze raking over me from head to toes. “You are simply stunning,” he said. “You should always wear something green.” He dipped his head lower and bussed my temple. “Or my favorite thing you wear, nothing at all.”

  That the man could still make me blush after all we’d been through, and done, together, was a true testament to how much I adored him.

  There hadn’t been a day in the past three months we hadn’t been together, many nights of them with me in his bed. While I still lived with my mother, each day more of my belongings found their way into Cade’s closets and drawers.

  He’d started his volunteer work at the women’s center and proved to be a natural at getting the clients to understand the intricacies of managing their money, most for the first time in their lives.

  I’d met his lovely mother and laughed until tears fell down my face at some of the stories she’d told about her only son.

  Cade had become a fixture in my life…and my heart.

  “They’re ready to begin,” Phil announced with a knock on the door.

  Cade let me go while we went to line up.

  “Good luck,” he said to both of us, giving us each a sweet kiss on the cheek.

  He’d forgiven Phil completely for her part in what happened, as had I, and his generosity of spirit added to my growing feelings for him. Phil had confessed that she and Cade had never done more than gone out a few times and engaged in a few quick and (in her words) unmemorable make-out sessions. She wanted to be upfront with me about their gone-in-a-minute relationship so I’d never have any worries or doubts about either of them. The girl code was strong in our friendship.

  With a quick kiss to Maeve’s cheek, he held out his arm to escort my mother down the aisle and then take his position on the altar next to Nick, as his best man. The two had grown close and their friendship was fun to watch. In Nick, Cade had found a second father figure and for Nick, he treated Cade like the son he’d never had.

  The organ music started and we moved into place.


  “Nervous?” I asked the joyful bride.

  “Not a whit.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Maeve. Nick loves you so much.”

  “And I, him.”

  “Then let’s get you married.”

  Hours later, after magnums of champagne had been enjoyed and the cake was a memory, I helped Maeve change into her traveling clothes.

  “Murphy’s read to take you two to the airport,” my mother announced as she walked into my room. “Ready to go?”

  Maeve nodded and turned to me, tears swimming.

  “No crying,” I told her.

  “I can’t help it,” she said, taking the tissues I offered. “I love Nick with everything in me, but—”

  “And no ‘buts.’” I pulled her into my arms and hugged her with every ounce of love in me. “I know what you’re going to say, and it’s fine, Maeve.”

  “So you’re psychic now, are ya?”

  I nodded and said, “Unsubstantiated, but well known side effect of being in a prolonged coma.”

  She shot me a stink eye and she tried valiantly not to grin when she hugged me.

  “I’ve been with you every day of your life since your parents put you in my arms,” she said. “There’s never been a day I haven’t woken and seen your beautiful face.” She pulled back and cupped my cheeks in her hands.

  “You’re still going to see it, only now you get to see your handsome husband’s face first. Which, I think, is way more appealing.”

  She laughed through her tears and chucked my chin.

  “You’ll be okay?”

  I knew what she was asking, thinking. I couldn’t love this woman more if I tried and told her so.

  “I wouldn’t be where I am, be the girl I am, if it hadn’t been for you, Maeve, you know that. You’re job – for lack of a better word- is done. Go and enjoy your life with the man who loves you more with each breath he takes. Be happy and know how happy we all are for you.”

  “It wasn’t a job from the moment I laid eyes on you.” She swiped at her tears. “It was a joy. Every day with you has been a gift.”

  Now my own tears pooled.

  We hugged again and my mother, who’d been listening and dabbing at her own waterworks, stretched her arms over the two of us.

  “Enough,” I laughed, breaking away. “You can’t be late for your flight.”

  In the foyer, standing at the bottom of the stairs, Nick waited for his bride. I caught a glimpse of his face when he saw Maeve at the top of the stairs and I almost started crying again. If ever a man loved a woman, it was Nicholas Roman.

  My gaze slid over to Cade, who stood behind Nick.

  He had the same expression on his face as he looked up at me.

  Also by Peggy Jaeger

  IT’S A TRUST THING

  Nell Newbery has trust issues. It’s hard to trust when you’re the daughter of a fallen financial scion who bilked people out of billions. Nell’s done everything in her power to keep away from men who see her as their ticket to fortune and fame. All she wants to do is run her ultra-successful business, HELPFUL HUNKS, in peace.

  But it wouldn’t hurt to find a guy who doesn’t know a thing about her father’s felonious past; one she can give her heart to and trust it won’t come back to her battered, bruised, and broken.

  Is Charlie Churchill that guy? On the surface he seems perfect, all polished manners and quiet mirth. Nell’s convinced he knows nothing about her, other than she likes superhero movies and views junk food as a food group.

  Can she trust him to be what he appears to be? Or is he just pretending?

  For Nell, trust is everything in life…and in love.

  Available exclusively at Amazon.com here:

  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07Y7LMJNR

  About the Author

  Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes Romantic Comedies about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them. If she can make you cry on one page and bring you out of tears rolling with laughter the next, she’s done her job.

  Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, she brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she’s created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

  When she’s not writing Peggy is usually painting, crafting, scrapbooking or decoupaging old steamer trunks she finds at rummage stores and garage sales.

  As a lifelong diarist, she caught the blogging bug early on, and you can visit her at peggyjaeger.com where she blogs daily about life, writing, and stuff that makes her go "What??!"

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