Chapter 1
501 Words
Chapter One
Diana pushed aside the creamy, lace curtain and gazed out on a yard adorned in pinks and frothy whites, with ribbons and bows and enough flowers to decorate the entire county. The midday sun had turned the sky a deep blue, and mixed with the flowers and miles of open land, it would seem to anyone as if they had stepped into paradise. Several long tables were draped with lacy white cloth, glasses stacked in pyramids. Waiters in black vests and white shirts, all starched and impeccably groomed, weaved through the hundreds of wedding guests all dressed in their Sunday best. Rows of white chairs faced a beautiful arbor covered with pink and white roses, and baby’s breath woven through the chain of flowers, a spectacular sight. Everyone was here: her groom, his family, and what appeared to be every resident of North Lakewood. But there would be no family for Diana, and no father to give her away.
She let the antique, lace curtain fall, and stepped away from the window, when her soon-to-be husband glanced up at her from the yard, his dark eyes mirroring her piercing love and never failing to take her breath away, always letting her know she was his. Looking back and picturing where she’d come from, she wanted to pinch herself to make sure this wasn’t all just a dream that she had never imagined would come true. After all, coming back to North Lakewood had been risky, but she’d followed her heart and was now going to marry her fairytale prince, having survived her trials and faced her demons while holding her head high. He loved her for it, accepting her for who she truly was.
Their love was so precious, and just thinking of being his wife had her heart pounding furiously, and her hands trembling. But it wasn’t fear or dread that had her shaking. It was the thought of being Mrs. Friessen—loved so completely for who she was, respected by the community and accepted for being just Diana.
He’d buy her the world. She knew that now, and he’d fight all of her battles for her if she let him. He was a proud man and could be ruthless in a fight, and she needed all her wits about her to face him without backing down.
Diana glanced in the antique mirror one last time. Tracing her finger under her eye, she wiped away a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed. Her makeup was perfect—not too heavy, just enough to enhance her healthy glow. Her fiery, red hair was combed and pinned up with cascading curls, a shimmering white veil with roses fastened to the back. She smoothed the chiffon of her wedding dress down, feeling like a princess about to wed her handsome prince, when a soft knock on the bedroom door interrupted her thoughts.
“Diana, are you ready?”
She nodded to herself in the mirror and pulled the door open, accepting the lovely bouquet of pink and white roses.
“Yes,” she answered.
- Writer
