23. Chapter 23

Chapter twenty-three

14th January 2023

S tanding at the base of the stairs, I find myself gazing up at the beige walls that have long been adorned with snapshots of my life—moments captured with my mum, and now, with Lloyd joining the tapestry of memories. These walls, once a silent witness to our past adventures, are about to embrace new chapters, unfolding with today’s joy and tomorrow’s promises.

The carpet on the stairs remains that same peculiar shade of burgundy, stubbornly holding onto the memories of my childhood. The stain on the bottom step is a stubborn relic of countless family escapades—despite my mum’s best efforts to erase it, the stain stands as a testament to our shared history, enduring and unchangeable. Yet, even though the carpet hasn’t been replaced, the warmth of our home has always been timeless.

As I take in the familiar hallway, nostalgia washes over me, taking me back to simpler times when every corner of this house was a stage for our youthful adventures. I recall a time when Ethan and I, in our eight-year-old mischief, raided my mum’s favourite bed sheets to fashion ghost costumes. We danced around the house, giggling uncontrollably, knowing well that we’d soon face Mum’s furious chase—her laughter mingling with her scolding. Then there was the sledging escapade when, at ten, our makeshift sledges turned the stairs into a thrilling raceway. The thrill ended abruptly when I collided with the hallway cabinet, shattering Mum’s cherished vase and breaking my arm—my introduction to the world of surgery.

My mum’s unwavering dedication to patching up my many injuries defined my childhood. From broken noses to trapped fingers, and even a swing-induced scar above my eyebrow, my mum’s love and care were constants in the chaos of my childhood. Yet, amidst all the chaos, one memory shines brightest: those carefree afternoons spent watching "Mamma Mia" and singing along to "Dancing Queen" at the top of our lungs. It was our ritual, one we never grew tired of, even after a thousand viewings.

Growing up with my mum was nothing short of paradise, despite the challenges we faced. I never knew my father beyond the stories of his departure, a man who claimed he never wanted children only to later father four more. Mum reached out to them, but their coldness kept us at a distance, a fact I’ve long accepted with a resigned shrug. Despite working two jobs to keep us afloat, my mum always carved out Sundays for us—simple yet profound moments that filled our lives with love and connection.

In a small but significant way, I try to return that love by sending her money, though she invariably spends it on me, always insisting it's a gift. Her stubbornness to accept help is matched only by her boundless generosity.

As I stand here, surrounded by the echoes of the past and the promise of the future, I realise just how much my mum means to me. She’s my rock, my guiding star, and now, with Laelia by my side, I feel I have the two most extraordinary women in my life.

Watching Ethan lean casually against the door frame, dressed in his sleek black suit and engrossed in texting, I can’t help but tease him.

“Who’s the lucky recipient of your messages now?” I ask with a grin.

He glances up, smirking at his phone before meeting my gaze. “Lauren,” he replies nonchalantly. I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Don’t judge,” he adds, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“How many is it this month?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.

He starts counting on his fingers, looking uncertain. “Six?” he guesses hesitantly.

I run my hand down my face in exasperation. “We’re only two weeks in, Ethan.”

“Seven, I think,” he corrects with a sheepish grin.

“You really should consider finding a meaningful relationship instead of... well, this,” I suggest, gesturing vaguely.

He dismisses my concerns with a wave of his hand. “You only live once,” he says, returning his attention to his phone.

Despite his womanising ways, Ethan is undeniably charming and kind-hearted. I know that one day he’ll find his soulmate and settle down. I hope that day comes soon.

Turning my attention back to myself, I scrutinise my reflection for what feels like the hundredth time. Today is Mum’s wedding day, and I’m tasked with giving her away. My tie is straightened, my suit immaculate, and I’ve spruced up my beard and moustache just so. My favourite Dior Fahrenheit aftershave, with its blend of mandarin, violet, cedar, patchouli, and leather, completes my look.

As I adjust my tie, the creak of the stairs draws my gaze upward, and there stands Laelia in all her radiant beauty. Her A- line, V-neck, floor-length dress in peacock green transforms her into a vision of elegance. Her hair is adorned with delicate green flowers, complementing the dress perfectly. As she descends, bathed in the warm sunlight filtering through the landing window, she takes my breath away.

She reaches me, her eyes locking onto mine as a fragrant, fruity aroma envelops me. She looks like an angel, and I’m utterly captivated. In that moment, as we stand together, everything else fades away, leaving me lost in her gaze and the ethereal beauty that she is.

“Killian!” Ethan’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I turn to find him chuckling. “Are you okay?”

I look back at Laelia, my heart full. “Perfect,” I reply, my gaze making her blush. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Her eyes scan me with approval. “You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.” She leans in for a tender kiss, full of love and warmth.

“Get a room,” Ethan quips from the sidelines.

As Laelia pulls away, she gives Ethan a playful flip of the finger, a gesture that makes me smile with pride. “I’m sure you’d enjoy the show, Ethan. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about pleasing a woman,” Laelia teases.

I raise an eyebrow at her teasing. “Little rebel,” I murmur.

“Definitely a keeper, Killian,” Ethan says with a grin.

“Don’t I know it,” I reply without hesitation, causing Laelia to blush once more.

“Hate to break the moment, but I’m ready!” My mum’s voice rings out from down the hall.

We all turn to see her standing at the doorway, and my heart swells with pride. In her stunning tulle skirt, adorned with 3D floral lace and crystal embellishments, she looks like a vision of grace. Her dark blonde hair is elegantly pinned, with delicate strands and crystals adding the finishing touch. She holds a bouquet of pastel pink roses and baby’s breath, radiating elegance and joy.

My mum has always been a beauty, though her love life has been fraught with disappointments. I remember her coming home from dates, venting about men who weren’t ready for commitment or who lacked the decency to treat her with the respect she deserved. Despite the heartaches, she always assured me that I would be the only man she ever needed. But now, seeing her so happy and fulfilled, I’m overjoyed that she’s finally found someone who appreciates her.

This is my mum’s first wedding, and I hope it will be her last. She conceived me young and has been open and honest about our past. Today, I’m giving her away to a man who, like me with Laelia, adores her completely.

As I walk down the corridor to my mum, a tear escapes my eye. She reaches out, her hand trembling slightly, and I grasp it firmly.

“You look stunning, Mum,” I say softly, watching her eyes well up.

“Oh, Killian,” she replies, trying to hold back tears. “Don’t make me cry. I don’t want to ruin all the hard work the makeup artist has put in.” She dabs at her eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“He’s one lucky man, Miss T,” Ethan interjects with a smile as he approaches.

“What have I told you about calling me Miss T?” My mum chides.

“Sorry, Poppy,” Ethan replies sheepishly.

“Be a good boy and fetch me a tissue,” she requests. Ethan nods and returns with a tissue. “Thank you,” she says, dabbing her eyes gently. “Is my makeup still intact?”

“You still look exquisite,” I reassure her.

She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t make me tear up again.”

Outside the church, I admire the light oak doors adorned with pastel pink rose vines, perfectly echoing my mum’s wedding theme. The church’s grey cobbled stones, covered in verdant vines, create a picturesque setting for the day.

My mum’s closest friends, dressed in elegant pastel pink dresses, wait in the doorway, holding smaller bouquets that match my mum’s. As I extend my hand to Laelia, she takes it with a smile and steps out of the car, planting a kiss on my cheek.

“Thank you,” she says warmly.

“My pleasure, beautiful,” I reply, my heart swelling.

Laelia steps aside to help Mum with her dress, ensuring it doesn’t drag on the ground. As we reach the church doors, Laelia adjusts the dress, and my mum gives her a grateful kiss on the cheek before taking her seat. Laelia heads to her place, leaving me alone with my mum.

My mum looks at me, a mixture of emotions in her eyes. “What’s on your mind?” I ask.

“You need to marry that girl,” she says, her voice filled with hope.

“I plan to,” I admit with a smile.

Her mouth falls open in awe, then she beams with a smile that lights up her entire face. "Really?" she asks, her voice rising in excitement.

"I bought the ring a while ago," I confess, my heart pounding with anticipation. "But every time I planned to propose, something went wrong. So, in March, when we go to Norway to see the Northern Lights, I'm going to propose to her under their enchanting glow."

She squeals with joy and rushes to me, wrapping me in a heartfelt embrace. "I'm so happy for you, Killian. I already adore her, and I can’t wait for her to become my daughter-in-law." She pulls away, fanning her face with a flutter of emotion. "No more crying," she says to herself, "I need to be ready."

With no one else in the foyer, I move through the first set of doors and see the bridesmaids and groomsmen waiting, Ethan included, trying his luck with one of the older women.

"Do you like a man with stamina?" he asks, his tone full of cheeky confidence.

She scoffs, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You're barking up the wrong tree. I’d eat you alive," she retorts. Ethan smirks, about to say something, but I cut in.

"Ethan, pack it in," I say firmly before he can make another comment. I turn to everyone else. "Are you all ready?" They nod in unison while Ethan huffs in exaggerated disappointment.

I give a nod to the man at the front of the church. He acknowledges me, and the music begins to play. Each bridesmaid takes the arm of a groomsman and walks gracefully down the aisle. Ethan, being the last groomsman, offers his arm to the woman he was flirting with, causing her to roll her eyes and sigh.

"I have no choice," she says, though she accepts his arm with a resigned smile, which makes Ethan grin triumphantly.

Turning to my mum, I see her hands trembling with nerves. I offer her my arm, and she takes it with a deep breath. We start our walk down the aisle together. As we approach, the guests turn to gaze at her in wonder, some with tears glistening in their eyes, others marvelling at her stunning dress. A few people, annoyingly, snap photos on their phones, blocking the view of our professional photographer. There’s nothing more infuriating than seeing amateurs intrude on moments meant for the expert.

Casting a glance of mild disgust at those obstructing the professional’s work, I catch my mum’s eye, and we share a smile of quiet understanding. I then focus on the guests and spot Laelia at the end of the aisle, her smile so radiant it seems to outshine the very lights above.

I look at the groom, Lloyd, and see him swaying slightly on his heels, his eyes welling up with tears as he watches my mum walk towards him. This is precisely how a bride wishes to be seen by her groom—through the lens of pure admiration and love.

The way Lloyd gazes at my mum reassures me that he is the man for her. However, a protective part of me reminds me that he better not hurt her or I'll make him regret it—an old conversation we’ve had that remains as true as ever. My mum doesn’t need to know about this, though.

Reaching the front, my mum kisses me on the cheek, and the officiant looks at me with a solemn expression.

"And who's giving this woman away today?" he asks.

"Me, her son, Killian," I reply. He nods in acknowledgement.

I turn back to Lloyd, who extends his arm to my mum. She accepts it with a smile, and I move to stand beside Laelia, who immediately wraps her arms around one of mine.

The wedding ceremony passes in a blur of joy and emotion. The couple exchanges their vows, sealing their promises with a kiss. We shower them with confetti as they exit, and then we head to the reception.

Entering the beautifully decorated ballroom, Laelia, Ethan, and I marvel at the transformation. The room is a floral wonderland—roses and baby’s breath adorn the ceiling and walls, creating an ethereal atmosphere. The tables are covered in delicate blossom leaves, with tall floral arrangements in the centre, and the chairs are tied with pink ribbons. Willa has truly outdone herself.

The three-tier cake is a masterpiece, with each layer a different flavour to cater to our varied tastes. We chose jam and sponge for the first layer, lemon cake for the second, and rich chocolate for the third—my mum’s favourite. It’s decorated with white icing, pink ribbon, and pink roses, embodying my mum’s favourite colour.

As everyone settles into their assigned seats, the event coordinator steps up to address the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I please have your attention? Let us stand and prepare to welcome our special guests!"

Everyone rises, glasses in hand, and the coordinator announces, "Let’s raise our glasses to welcome Mr. and Mrs. Webster!"

Mum and Lloyd enter, and the room erupts in cheers. Champagne flutes are raised, and clapping and whistling fill the air as they make their way to the head table. Once seated, my mum turns to me, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Please tell me you didn’t spend a fortune? It’s incredible! You’re going to make me cry!" she says, her voice trembling as she clutches my hand.

I squeeze her hand gently. "You’re worth every penny, Mum. It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me."

Tears spill freely, and she waves her free hand to dry her face. "I’m so happy I raised a son like you. You’re my pride and joy, Killian. I love you."

"I love you too, Mum."

After three rounds of delectable food, it’s time for the speeches. Lloyd stands and speaks about the new love they’ve found in each other, the family they’re creating, and his gratitude for finally having a step-son. He talks about the adventures they’ll embark on together, vowing to support and cherish my mum through everything.

When he finishes, my mum’s gaze shifts to me. Laelia nudges me with a supportive smile. "Your turn."

I push my seat back, stand, and clear my throat as all eyes turn to me. I offer a small, nervous smile. Public speaking has never been my forte, and the heat of the room makes me even more anxious.

I remove my suit jacket, and Laelia takes it, draping it over the back of my chair. She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, understanding my nerves.

I smile at her and take a deep breath. "Hello everyone. For those who don’t know me, I’m Poppy’s son, Killian. I just want to let you all know, before I mess up, that I’m terrible at speeches."

"Don’t we know it," Ethan interjects, prompting a wave of laughter.

"Thanks, Ethan," I reply with a smile.

"You're very welcome."

I shake my head, chuckling softly. "Growing up, we didn’t have it easy, but my mum did everything she could to provide for us. For that, she is, and always will be, my hero." My mum’s eyes glisten with tears as I speak.

"When I was younger, Ethan and I," I point to Ethan, who waves at everyone, "always managed to drive my mum crazy. There was the time we got into her secret wine and chocolate cupboard and consumed everything. When she came home and found out, she just laughed. We had to do chores for ages to earn back her trust and give her all our spending money to replace her wine. We were quite a handful, and she had to drink a lot to cope." The room bursts into laughter, and Mum shakes her head, smiling.

"Being here today, celebrating my mum and Lloyd, I’m surrounded by those who know how much she does for everyone. No matter who you are, she’s there for you, offering a shoulder to cry on. I’m incredibly grateful for that. What I’m most grateful for is that I get to call her my mum and that she belongs to me."

My emotions well up, making my eyes sting. I push through, trying to keep my composure. "Lloyd," I say, my voice trembling, "thank you for coming into our lives and making my mum so incredibly happy. It means the world to me to have you as my step-dad. I know you two will have a lifetime of adventures and joy, and I can’t wait to make memories with both of you. So, let’s raise our glasses to Poppy and Lloyd—Mr. and Mrs. Webster."

Everyone raises their glasses in a toast, and I quickly down mine. Mum and Lloyd come over and envelop me in a warm hug.

When the speeches end, they welcome the bride and groom onto the dance floor and they dance to their song, getting lost in each other. My mum then encourages everyone to then join them on the dance floor and I grab Laelia's hand, pulling her along.

As we dance together, I draw her close, feeling the delicate rhythm of our hearts beating in sync. Her arms slide around my neck, fingers lightly tracing the back of my neck as if memorising every contour. My hands find their place on her waist, drawing her nearer until there’s no space left between us. We sway together to the gentle caress of the music, our movements perfectly in tune with the melody and with each other.

Being this close to her, feeling the warmth of her touch and being met with eyes full of love, I'm lost in her completely. There's nothing more in this world than her. She is all I'm going to ever want and need. She has my heart, and she can do whatever she wants with it.

In her arms, I find a sense of home and belonging that I’ve never known before. Every breath, every heartbeat, every shared glance reaffirms what I’ve always known deep in my soul—she is my everything. And as we dance together, enveloped in this moment of perfect closeness, I realise more than ever how profoundly I love her.

She leans her head against me and I wrap my arms around her fully, holding her closer, being hit with her fruity scent. This is the scent of all my happiness. She's the sunshine to my rain, my heaven to my hell, my fucking everything and I can't wait for us to say our I do's too. I'm going to marry this girl and she's going to be mine, forever.