Chapter 6 The Altar by the Lake
1204 Words
(Oliver’s POV)
Morning at Havenmere arrived quietly.
A thin veil of mist lingered above the surface of Lake Windermere, slowly lifting as the first light of dawn spilled over the rolling hills. The water reflected a soft wash of pale gold, while the silhouettes of trees swayed gently in the early breeze.
Oliver usually liked mornings like this.
Still. Ordered. Predictable.
The kind of calm that allowed his mind to function with precision.
But today felt different.
Today, he was getting married.
He stood by the wide window of his study, a cup of coffee resting in his hand, his gaze fixed on the grounds below. From where he stood, the altar came into view—set right at the edge of the lake.
A graceful arch of birch wood stood upon the grass, adorned with white hydrangeas and soft lavender blooms that swayed gently in the wind. A long ivory aisle stretched from the terrace to the altar, flanked by rows of wooden chairs that were slowly being filled by arriving guests.
Everything looked peA long, ivory aisle stretched from the terrace to the altar, flanked by rows of wooden chairs that were slowly filling up with arriving guests.sness.
He was a man accustomed to control.
Multi-million-pound construction projects.
Negotiations with impossible clients.
Endless presentations in rooms filled with investors who expected nothing less than certainty.
None of those things had ever made him uneasy.
Yet standing at the altar to marry Olivia Sinclair—
was something else entirely.
The sound of the door opening broke his thoughts.
Liam walked in, wearing that same easy grin Oliver had known since they were boys.
“Well,” Liam said, clapping a hand against Oliver’s shoulder, “I never thought this day would actually happen.”
Oliver let out a quiet scoff.
“Neither did I.”
Liam stepped beside him, following his gaze out the window.
“This place looks incredible,” he said, genuinely impressed. “Our mothers may be slightly insane… but they definitely know how to throw an expensive wedding.”
Oliver didn’t respond.
His eyes remained on the altar.
That place would witness something—
something he wasn’t entirely sure he understood yet.
Liam nudged his arm.
“You’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Liam gestured toward the cup in his hand.
“You’re gripping that like it personally offended you.”
Oliver set the cup down on the table.
“Thank you for your psychological analysis.”
Liam grinned.
“Relax. If you pass out at the altar, I’ll catch you.”
Oliver shook his head slightly.
But beneath his calm exterior—
Liam wasn’t wrong.
He was nervous.
Not because of the wedding.
But because of one person.
Olivia.
---
An hour later, Oliver stood at the altar.
The midnight blue tuxedo fit him perfectly, yet he found himself overly aware of every small movement he made. The breeze from the lake stirred the flowers behind him, while soft morning light settled gently across the grass and the now fully occupied rows of chairs.
Their families sat in the front.
Close friends behind them.
Soft murmurs blended with the instrumental music drifting through hidden speakers.
Oliver tried to steady his breathing.
But his thoughts kept circling back to one thing.
What would Olivia look like when she walked toward him?
He hadn’t seen her dress.
And strangely—
that made his heart beat faster.
Liam stood beside him as his groomsman.
“Still time to run,” Liam whispered.
Oliver stared straight ahead.
“Don’t.”
Then the music changed.
Softer.
More sacred.
The guests rose to their feet.
And then—
he saw her.
Olivia appeared at the far end of the terrace, her arm linked with her father’s.
For a moment—
Oliver forgot how to breathe.
Her dress was not extravagant.
No heavy embellishments. No dramatic lace.
And yet—
That simplicity made her breathtaking.
Ivory mikado silk draped over her figure with effortless elegance. The long, fitted sleeves gave her a quiet, classic grace, while the soft V-shaped back revealed just enough of her skin to feel intimate without being bold.
Her hair was gathered into a low bun, a few loose strands brushing softly against her neck.
Nothing excessive.
Nothing theatrical.
Just…
perfect.
And for the first time since he had known her—
Oliver did not see Olivia Sinclair as his rival.
Not the woman who challenged him at every turn.
Not the one who matched him word for word.
But a woman.
A woman walking toward him.
Each step she took along the aisle felt slower than it should have been—as if time itself had chosen to linger, forcing him to feel every second of it.
Liam nudged him again.
“My sister is stunning, isn’t she?”
Oliver didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
The world around him dimmed.
The murmurs.
The music.
The wind brushes across the lake.
All of it faded into the distance.
There was only Olivia.
And the narrowing distance between them.
When she finally reached him, her father pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before placing her hand into Oliver’s.
Oliver took it.
Her skin was cool.
Soft.
But the moment their fingers touched—
something unexpected settled within him.
Calm.
As if the chaos in his mind had been silenced in an instant.
Olivia looked up at him.
And for the first time—
He saw something rare in her eyes.
Nervousness.
The officiant began to speak.
Words about love, commitment, and the future drifted into the morning air.
But Oliver barely heard any of it.
His attention remained fixed on her.
On the way, her fingers tightened slightly around his.
On the subtle rise and fall of her breath.
Then came the vows.
“I, Oliver, take you, Olivia…”
His voice came out lower than he expected—rough around the edges, but steady.
He didn’t look away from her.
“I, Olivia, take you, Oliver…”
Her voice was clear.
But he felt the small pressure of her grip tighten as she spoke.
And then—
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Oliver didn’t think.
His hand lifted instinctively, brushing lightly beneath her chin, tilting her face toward his.
Her eyes widened.
But she didn’t pull away.
And then—
He kissed her.
At first, it was soft.
Gentle.
But the moment their lips met—
something shifted.
He felt her respond.
His other hand moved to her waist, pulling her just slightly closer without realizing it.
The world disappeared.
There was only warmth.
And something that suddenly felt…
right.
The cheers and applause brought them back.
When they parted, Olivia’s breath was unsteady.
Her cheeks flushed.
And for the first time—
Oliver saw her at a loss for words.
Liam pulled them both into a quick embrace.
“Well,” he said with satisfaction, “you’re officially married.”
Oliver looked at Olivia.
Still holding her hand.
Still not letting go.
And for the first time since all of this began—
He realized something that surprised even himself.
He didn’t regret it.
Not even a little.
---
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