Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)

by J. L. Berg

  “Okay, let’s do this,” I said.

  Our eyes met as she lowered it. I took Grace’s hand, and with one foot after another, I slowly stepped into the dress and watched as they lifted it up around me. The bodice came around my waist as they worked to pull the zipper up.

  “Perfect,” my mother said. “It fits like a glove.”

  They smoothed out the layers and then brought the beaded belt to adorn my waist. With an expert hand, Grace tightly tied it right at the small of my back, and I turned to see myself for the first time.

  “Don’t cry,” I chanted. “Don’t cry.”

  The dress was exactly as I remembered but so much more. The sweetheart bodice fit snugly, accenting the small curve I’d gained since the surgery. It flared out at the waist, dozens of thin organza layers flowing elegantly to the floor.

  “I look like a princess,” I said.

  “No,” my mom replied. “You look like an angel.”

  I saw her misty eyes in the mirror, and I had to look away to keep from sobbing.

  “I think we have a few final touches before we go,” Grace said, her voice rough from obvious tears.

  Her fingers touched my neck, and I felt the cool touch of metal wrap around my throat. The locket Jude had given me hung neatly on my chest, barely reaching the top of where my scar began. It was visible in this dress, and I’d considered wearing a gown where it would have been hidden, but I’d spent too much of my life hiding.

  This was who I was—a survivor.

  And today, I refused to hide.

  My heart grew louder, beating a bit faster, as the limo pulled up to the curb of the beautiful Gothic church that stood proud and tall against the New York skyline.

  As soon as I’d seen it, I’d known this was where Jude and I would be married. After a defeated day of looking at church after church, only to find nothing that had truly spoken to us, I’d almost given up on my dream of getting married in a historic church.

  Jude’s parents had said their vows in the beautiful Trinity Church, and sure, I wouldn’t have minded that either. But that place was gigantic, and to keep Jude’s mother from going completely insane and inviting the entire Eastern seaboard, we had tried to stay clear of large venues.

  Tired, achy, and sore from walking around half the city, we’d climbed into a taxi. As I’d slumped into the backseat, listening to Jude’s easy voice assuring me that everything would work out, I had looked up, and there it was. I’d immediately asked the cab driver to pull over. Grabbing Jude’s hand, like a crazy person, I’d dragged him out of the back of the car, and I’d run toward the entrance, not stopping until we’d reached the inside.

  We’d put our deposit down that day.

  In that moment, it had felt like today would never come.

  And now, here I was, in my wedding gown, ready to meet my groom and pledge the rest of my life to him.

  It seemed like fairy tales really did come true—even for the little girl who had grown up within the walls of a hospital and never expected anything truly special to ever happen there.

  “Are you ready?” my mother asked, taking my hand in hers.

  I squeezed it as our eyes met briefly before I looked up toward the top of the limestone steeple.

  “Yes,” I croaked out, trying to stifle the tears threatening to break through.

  The limo door slowly opened, and there was Marcus, standing proud and tall, waiting to help us into the church.

  “There are my girls,” he said. “How about we get you inside?”

  I nodded as he took my hand in his and carefully helped me out of the limo, mindful of all the layers of fabric around me. I stood outside, hardly noticing the freezing temperatures of the early evening setting in, and then I saw Marcus’s face.

  Moisture rimmed his aged eyes.

  “You . . . my God, Lailah. You’re stunning.”

  I fell into his embrace, soaking up love and warmth from the only father I’d ever known. He’d been my doctor my entire life. He might be just a stepfather by society’s standards, but to me, he was so much more.

  “Thank you,” I said, pulling back to look at him.

  “For what?”

  “Everything. There’s too many to list, Marcus. You’ve been there for me and Mom every step of the way, and I would have died in that hospital a long time ago if it wasn’t for you.”

  He tried to protest, but I knew it was true. Every minute of every day, he’d fought for me.

  “My mother might have chosen the wrong Hale brother that night, but she’s been choosing you ever since.”

  He gave a wisp of a smile. “I know.” His eyes shifted beyond me to where my mother now stood, his eyes blazing as they found hers.

  Her fingers curled around my bare shoulders. “We need to get you inside,” she said as her hands began running up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me. She might have relaxed in her ways, but her driving need to protect me still ran strong and true inside her.

  I nodded. “Where is he?” I asked, turning to Marcus.

  “In the back, far away from any windows. Don’t worry. He doesn’t want to ruin this moment either.”

  A few horns honked as we made our way to the entrance, and I couldn’t help but turn and wave as people honked, rolled down their windows and yelled congratulations. Luckily, no one told me to turn and run or hollered that marriage sucked. That definitely would have put a damper on the celebrity moment I was having.

  Marcus pulled open the heavy door to the church, and my mom helped me enter quickly. After we made sure all of my dress was safely inside, I gave the okay to close the door behind us. Grace had already arrived separately, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. I also believed she secretly wanted my mom and me to have a moment alone together. It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciated the gesture. It had been nice to spend the last couple of minutes with my mom while driving down the streets of New York. I didn’t know if I would get another chance to just be with her like this before Jude and I left for our honeymoon. I was guessing Grace had known that. She always seemed to know exactly what to do.

  “Oh, Lailah, it’s beautiful,” my mother said, her voice full of awe.

  I finished smoothing out my skirt and looked up to see that the church had completely been transformed. It was daytime when Jude and I had visited, and although it had been absolutely dreamy then, we had known we wanted an evening wedding. Having returned sometime later during an evening service had only given a glimpse of what it might look like since the bright lights above washed everything out.

  Now, only the glow of what seemed like a million candles lit the room. It was romantic and everything I’d imagined it would be. The glow from the natural lighting flickered and danced against the stone walls and high Gothic cathedral ceilings.

  “It’s perfect,” was all I could manage to say before I was whisked away to the bridal suite.

  Guests were starting to arrive outside, which meant I would be walking down that candlelit aisle in less than an hour.

  I TOOK A deep breath, touching the new cuff link on my sleeve, as Marcus stood next to me in front of the congregation. The small a cappella choir began, their angelic voices filling the church, from high above where they stood in the balcony.

  Grace emerged first, carrying a small bouquet of red and white flowers against her green dress. She looked happy and elated as her head turned briefly to smile at Brian and Zander seated in the crowd. Brian held out their son’s tiny hand and waved at her as she walked by before taking her spot to the right of me, leaving a wide space where Lailah would be.

  Lailah.

  I turned just in time to see her and her mother round the corner. With one arm wrapped firmly around Molly, Lailah lifted her gaze as they both took their first steps down the aisle.

  I lost the ability to breathe.

  She was breathtaking, exquisite.

  Dear Lord, she was mine.

  Loose curls fell around her shoulders surrounding her l
ike a halo, her floor length veil trailed behind her like a thin train. Her dress was winter white and fit her personality and body beautifully.

  My fingers itched to touch her, to roam over every inch of that silky skin.

  It had felt like an eternity since I saw her last, yet it had been less than twenty-four hours. I knew now more than ever—as she walked toward me, escorted down the aisle by her mother—that Lailah was the one I was always meant to be with.

  I might have started my life down one path, but all roads had led me to that hospital, to this moment, and to this woman.

  It was true—what they said in cheesy romance movies. When the bride entered the church, as she looked at her husband-to-be, everyone else seemed to disappear around them.

  As Molly placed Lailah’s hand in mine, giving me a tender squeeze on the shoulder, the entire church melted away. I saw nothing but the dazzling gleam of her eyes under the candlelight and the soft tender smile radiating through her as we turned to face each other.

  I wanted to whisper something to her, to tell her how beautiful she looked and how much I loved her. But how could I fit a hundred different emotions and feelings into a single sentence?

  It was impossible, and I only hoped that the vows I’d prepared would do her justice.

  The pastor greeted the congregation, and I briefly took a moment to look out and see our family and friends smiling back at us. Our mothers were in the front pew. My mother was already clutching a delicate lace cloth between her fingers, knowing she’d need to blot away the tears that would eventually make their way down her cheeks. After giving Lailah away, Molly had taken her seat next to my mother.

  The church was filled. Many I knew, but most I didn’t. I had argued with my mother, trying to keep the attendance low, but ultimately, I’d given in, knowing that my professional position and our family name required me to invite certain individuals.

  At this moment, I didn’t care who was here with us.

  As long as Lailah was in front of me, looking at me with that wondrous excitement in her eyes, the church could be filled or empty, and I’d still be the luckiest damn man on the planet.

  “As a pastor of this church for thirty-five years, I’ve married many couples right here, at this very spot. So many, in fact, that I’ve married some of their children here as well.”

  He chuckled a little under his breath, and the congregation joined him.

  “Many of those couples stick out in this old memory of mine, those who just seem . . . well, special. Jude and Lailah, from the minute they stepped through the door, became one of those couples. Lailah’s overwhelming spirit seemed to fill the entire church as she bounced from corner to corner, gasping with excitement over the architecture of this beautiful building.”

  I smiled, remembering that day. Pastor Mark recalled it perfectly.

  Lailah and I had visited half a dozen churches while on vacation in Ireland, many just like this. Nothing had deterred her excitement each and every time she entered someplace new. Life would never dull for Lailah. Each day was a miracle.

  “I’d seen such excitement before, but when I appeared and explained our process for being married here, that joy would usually soon dissolve, and many couples would disappear just as quickly as they’d appeared, searching for another church with a far easier process. See, I’m a bit old-fashioned.”

  I rolled my eyes a bit, which caused Lailah to scrunch her nose and giggle a little.

  “I still believe that a couple should know one another before marriage, which is why I require all my couples to go through premarital counseling. When I approached Lailah and Jude with this requirement, Lailah literally jumped up and down and asked when we could start. It was then that I knew I’d found something special.

  “I’ve learned so much about these two since that day. Standing here, presiding over this blessed union, I am beyond honored.”

  His warm smile, filled with love, shone down upon us. I’d grown immensely fond of this man over the last two months during our weekly sessions as we spent time getting to know him and his views of marriage and life.

  “Lailah and Jude have chosen to recite their own vows, a modern touch that this old guy is actually pretty partial to.”

  He gave me a nod, letting me know I could begin. A flutter of nerves settled into the pit of my stomach as I watched him turn the microphone in my direction, so the congregation could hear each and every word.

  As my eyes settled on Lailah, suddenly, everything solidified, and calm found its way around my anxious emotions.

  “A time not too long ago, I thought I’d never see you again. I’d wake up each morning, thinking about all the moments I’d told you I loved you, and that would only lead to all the times I hadn’t—like those hurried good-byes when I had seriously been pushing my thirty-minute lunch break or the many nights we’d fallen asleep together and never said it. All those missed opportunities to say I love you weighed on me, like pennies slowly filling up a jar until the little copper coins spilled out onto the floor.”

  My fingers held on to hers as my thumb slowly grazed her hand over and over as I said my vows, “When you came back to me, I felt this overpowering need to tell you just how much I love you, every second of every minute of every day. Sorry, I know that those were probably a rough couple of days.”

  The congregation laughed as her eyes lit up, and she giggled.

  “I was simply overwhelmed. This—what I feel for you, Lailah—it’s powerful. Following those first few days after our reunion, I realized that I could do nothing for the rest of my existence but tell you just how much I love you, and it still wouldn’t be an accurate measurement of what I feel for you. My love is immeasurable, infinite and always evolving, and you have it, all of it—for as long as I live.”

  Lailah’s lips quivered as she tightly squeezed her eyes closed. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the lace handkerchief my mother had given me moments before the ceremony. I gently held it to Lailah’s face and dabbed the tears away. Her fingers briefly curled around my wrist, touching the cuff link that rested there, before taking the handkerchief in her own hand.

  Pastor Mark looked to her, silently asking if she was ready, and she nodded.

  Her voice was a bit hoarse, filled with emotion, as she began to speak, “I could say so many things to you in this moment, including how you saved me in so many ways. But you would just shake your head and disagree, choosing to say the opposite.

  “So, instead, I’m going to talk about snow.”

  My eyebrows rose as several people in the church chuckled.

  “Like most West Coasters, I have a weird obsession with snow. It’s cold and white, and it falls from the sky. The first time I saw it, I ran outside without even bothering to put on a jacket, and I danced around under snow flurries laughing and screaming like a crazed person. I’m fairly certain I nearly sent you to the hospital.” She grinned.

  I nodded.

  “From that moment on, my reaction hasn’t changed much—although I do remember to bring a coat. Being the California girl I am, I had no idea just how much snow could fall from the sky. Living in New York has been a hard and fast education in weather.

  “There was a storm, a particularly bad one last winter, and the city had to actually shut down. The snowplows couldn’t keep up with the amount of snow Mother Nature was producing, and as I sat on the couch while the lights flickered off and on, I looked out the window, worrying whether we’d have heat through the night. But then, you came and wrapped your warm arms around me, and I realized that nothing mattered as long as we were together. Snowstorms, heart transplants, or anything else the world wants to throw our way, as long as your hand is in mine,” she said, looking down at our joined palms, “I’ll never fear the unknown.”

  I was in awe.

  As we exchanged rings and I felt her delicate fingers slide that cool metal band into place, I wondered, Does one man deserve so much? Or am I tempting fate?

  JUDE’S SOFT
GREEN eyes melted into mine as he placed the simple gold wedding band onto my ring finger. I looked down at it, the tiny white diamonds twinkling under the soft glow of candlelight.

  I’d imagined what it would look like on this day, standing here with Jude in front of our friends and family.

  It felt solid, real, and incredibly permanent—just like Jude.

  His mouth curved into a half grin as he watched my gaze return to him. What was he thinking about? As his eyes dipped to my cleavage, I found myself blushing.

  Oh . . . that.

  Well, I guessed I would need to thank my good friend Grace for the lingerie.

  Pastor Mark began, “Now that Jude and Lailah have given themselves to one another and made promises through the exchange of rings”—Jude squeezed my hand, knowing this was it, and his eyes locked on mine as I bit my lip, trying not to cry—“I am so honored and incredibly happy to pronounce them husband and wife.”

  We looked to him for permission, the excitement between us nearly causing us to hover off the ground.

  Pastor Mark laughed and nodded at Jude. “You may now kiss your bride.”

  Our eyes met as Jude’s cocky grin returned. My heart hammered in my chest. It was as if I’d never been kissed before, as if I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life.

  Leaning forward, his fingers found the back of my head, digging into my hair, and he pulled me close. A millisecond before our lips met, he whispered, “Forever,” just loud enough for the two of us to hear.

  The congregation erupted into cheers and applause as we took our first kiss as husband and wife.

  It was magical.

  As we pulled back, I looked up to see tears in Jude’s eyes. I rose up on my tiptoes and gently wiped them away before we turned toward our family and friends.

  “Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Jude Cavanaugh!”

  We raised our joined hands in triumph, laughing in joy, and we raced down the aisle to congratulations and applause.

  We hadn’t been married for more than an hour, and I kind of already wanted to hurt him a little, not a lot—just a small kick to the shin or a tiny shove.