All Chapters of Let Me Go Daddy, I Am Engaged To Your Son!: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Iris's POVThe rooftop bar was exactly what Maya had promised weeks ago when she first floated the idea. A jazz trio played near the bar, nothing intrusive, just a bass and a piano and a singer who sounded like she'd lived through something sad and come out the other side. The air had that sharp citrus smell of expensive cocktails being mixed too fast.I should have felt lucky. My friends had flown in from different cities to sit at this table. Amy kept reaching over to squeeze my hand and tell me I was glowing. Bianca had brought me a gift wrapped in tissue paper that I hadn't opened yet. Zelda had already cried twice, and Kate had given me one of her rare, quiet smiles.But I couldn't stop watching Maya. She'd shown up early to set everything up. The little party favors were placed neatly at each seat. The champagne was on ice. She'd coordinated with the bartender about a signature cocktail and made sure there were enough gluten free options for Bianca. Every detail was perfect. She

Iris's POVI did not sleep for a single minute.I lay in my childhood bed with the covers pulled up to my chin and watched the sky turn from black to gray to a soft, hesitant pink through the gap in the curtains. I kept replaying Maya's face in the restroom, the hollow, awful laugh, the way she said she would be there but not to ask her to pretend we were still okay.Around seven, my mother knocked. "Iris? Sweetheart, it's seven. We need to start getting ready."I sat up slowly. My body felt heavy, as though I had been swimming through the entire night and only just managed to reach the shore. "Coming," I said.The next few hours dissolved into a blur of hands and voices and small, intimate violences being done to my person. My mother curled my hair in careful sections, her fingers trembling with a kind of excitement that made her forget she had already asked me three times whether I had eaten breakfast. Amy arrived first, already crying. "I promised myself I would not," she said, dab

Iris's POVThe reception was still ongoing when I slipped away to the bridal suite.Through the walls, the band had shifted into a slow kind of song that meant people were either getting romantic or too tired to keep up with anything up-tempo. My face ached from holding a smile for four straight hours. My feet had gone numb somewhere around the first dance, which I chose to interpret as a blessing rather than nerve damage.The bridal suite had a vanity with a mirror ringed by those old-fashioned bulbs that made everyone look like a movie star. I sat on the velvet stool and stared at my reflection. The dress was still perfect. The veil had survived Amy's enthusiastic hugging. The ring on my finger caught the light every time I moved my hand, which was often, because I couldn't stop looking at it.Then I stopped looking at the ring and started thinking about what came next.For the wedding night, Marcus had booked the honeymoon suite on the top floor of this very hotel. In a few hours, w

Iris’s POV I stared at the words until they blurred. He was on the eighth floor of this same hotel. Victor had not only planned for this, he had booked himself a room in the building. I am not suprised he did this. The man thought of everything, and what he didn't think of, he quietly arranged. I looked at Marcus, his face was peaceful, his breathing was even as he slept and his arm still draped across me as though he were afraid I might vanish in the night. He deserved so much better than a wife who would leave his bed on their wedding night and pad barefoot down a hotel hallway to another man's room. He had always deserved better. But better was not what he had chosen. He had chosen me, and somewhere along the way, in a hundred small decisions that had each felt survivable until they added up to this, I had also chosen Victor. I slipped out from under Marcus's arm and reached for the hotel robe draped across the chair. Then I walked barefoot across the suite, opened the door, an

Iris's POVI woke to the weight of an arm draped across my waist and the warm, steady rhythm of breath against the back of my neck. For a moment I didn't open my eyes. I just lay there in the unfamiliar softness of hotel sheets, letting the morning light filter red through my closed lids, trying to remember where I was and who I was supposed to be.Then Marcus stirred behind me and pulled me tighter against his chest, and everything from the day before came rushing back. The I had climbed into bed at nearly three in the morning, my body still humming with the aftermath of what I had done, and fallen asleep beside my husband as though nothing had happened. As though I hadn't spent my wedding night in another man's room."Iris." Marcus's voice was thick with sleep, his lips brushing the curve of my shoulder. "You're still here."I turned in his arms to face him. His eyes were half open, his hair a mess of dark waves against the pillow. He looked rumpled and warm and so genuinely happy