Chapter 2: Vivi

“Me.” Declan Yaeger steps out from behind a column in church like a memory from my past.

My breath catches in my throat and an overwhelming sense of déjà vu rocks through me, causing me to stumble back. For a moment, I see him the way I remember him. As a high school hockey player on the cusp of manhood. The guy who picked me up for my senior prom, moving between the columns in front of Granddaddy’s house, a corsage in his hand. My fingertips press against my lips and an unattractive sound splits the air, half laugh, half sob. 

Henry’s hold on me tightens, keeping me upright. Declan’s expression twists and then, he’s beside me. My world spins so hard, I wonder if it will break into a million pieces, like a kaleidoscope. Nothing makes sense right now. Nothing. 

Henry, my fiancé, my oldest and truest friend, can’t marry me without betraying himself. I never should have asked him to and standing here now, my guilt for putting him in this position crashes down on me. 

His honesty shames me. The summer Declan left and my life changed forever, Henry told me, “I’ll always be here for you, Viv. Whatever you need. I’ve got you.”

Surely he didn’t mean marriage. And I was just desperate enough to take him up on the offer to marry me when…I should have known better. 

I drop my hold on Henry. Instead, my hand rises to my throat and rests there, the beating of my heart faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I feel the blood drain from my face as shame I’ve never known hollows me from the inside out. I nearly ruined my best friend’s life for…my career. 

But it’s not just my career. It’s Granddaddy’s legacy, it’s my grandmother’s dream, it’s all the good they managed to leave behind when they departed this world. And they entrusted it, at least half of it, to me. 

Ooh, the words of Granddaddy’s will, the shock of it all, still clings to the edges of my mind. When Mr. Rhett read the marriage stipulation, Aunt Marge, Alfred, and I all gasped. Now, five days later, I’m standing in a church, trying to marry. If my current position wasn’t so desperate, I’d laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

On top of my predicament, I feel awful that I’d nearly trapped Henry into a loveless marriage when he can have a crack at the real thing. At the thing I once shared with Declan.

Declan. I turn my head and he shifts closer, until he’s standing before me. His cologne washes over me like a memory and oh, God, how I’ve missed him. His presence conjures up a thousand feelings I thought I laid to rest. I shiver and Declan’s hand settles on my hip, its weight both a thrill and a warning. 

I should be confused. Or hurt. Or anything except relieved. But…

“What are you doing here?” I whisper. 

“Vivi.” My name falling from his mouth causes tears to well in my eyes. 

“Why now? Today?” I ask. It’s been years and yet, here he is, offering marriage. On my wedding day.

Declan’s gray eyes, so familiar and yet foreign, pierce mine, and my confusion grows, threatening to pull me under like quicksand. How did he know I was getting married today? Why does he care?

“What are you doing here, man?” Henry repeats my question. 

“What the hell are you doing agreeing to marry her if you’re not all in?” Declan retorts, his tone hard. But his voice, it’s all man now, raspy and rough and…angry. 

I like that he’s angry on my behalf because that means a part of him must still care about me, right? Even though we broke up years ago, that summer is still fresh in my mind. The ease with which Declan galivanted off to Ireland, charmed women in pubs across Dublin, and never looked back ached as I dealt with the aftermath of our decisions on my own. 

Still, I can’t deny the strange comfort I feel that he’s here. Just when things were starting to spiral, just when I was about to embark on a new low by marrying my best friend, a man not in love with me, Declan showed up. He showed up for me and that realization is strangely comforting. It’s a balm to an old hurt, a concern for my well-being that didn’t materialize when I miscarried our baby all those years ago. Even though he still doesn’t know, even though my silence then was unfair to him, I couldn’t help but feel resentful that while I wallowed through the aftermath completely alone, he was tossing back pints of Guinness. 

But now, he’s here.

I swallow and shake my head to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on the matter at hand, my ridiculous wedding day. I move forward, tripping over my dress. Declan wraps his arm around my waist and steadies me as I collide with the hard muscle of his chest. His warmth seeps into my skin, a reminder that this time, right now, I’m not alone. That maybe, I can still pull this off. 

I clasp Declan’s shoulders to keep myself upright and roll my lips together, my head spinning, as the overwhelming sensation of being wrapped in his arms spreads through my limbs. 

Even in heels, I’m eye level with the base of his throat, tanned and smooth and working a concerned swallow. I feel his stare on the top of my head, worried and confused, and hate how much his presence still affects me. But everything about Declan Yaeger always made me feel something, made me feel too much, and this moment is no different. 

I’m about to be left at the altar and the man who broke my heart is my only glimpse of hope, but that tiny glimmer of possibility keeps me rooted in place. Right now, to safeguard Granddaddy’s legacy and my own purpose, I’ll marry the man who spoiled every relationship that came after him just by existing. Just by being the irritating unit of measurement no other guy stacked up against.  

I study him slowly, taking my time to look up from his strong shoulders. The hardness of his jaw, covered in a delicious scruff that I’ve never seen him sport before. At least, not in person. His mouth is clamped closed, a troubled slash I remember as a charming smile. Sculpted cheekbones, gray eyes that rival a thunderstorm, and sweet curls that used to be a source of ridicule but now soften Declan’s strong features. His hair is brown with a reddish tint that speaks to his Irish roots. God, he’s beautiful. Sexy. 

And so unworthy of my foolish thoughts. I’m not sixteen and in love anymore. I’m a grown woman trying to safeguard the legacy my grandparents left behind.

I close my eyes to collect myself. When I open them, Declan’s scowl has eased. Both of his hands are now resting on my hips, and my fingers are twisting the material of his shirt. 

“You in trouble, Vivi?” Declan’s eyebrows pull together, a line forming between them. 

It catches me off guard, the realization that seven years have passed since I’ve seen him and yet…his hold on me feels as natural as ever.  

“Viv, look at me,” Henry commands. 

I turn my head and stare at my best friend. 

“You’re not seriously considering this,” Henry scoffs when he correctly reads my expression. Because I am seriously considering this. Marrying Declan makes sense on a strange level. We have a shared history, a shared respect. Fine, things didn’t end on great terms but before we were lovers, we were the best of friends. I know I can trust him. I know he’d never hurt me or use my work, the foundation, against me. 

And, maybe the most important part, I know that there’s no future for us. Just like I knew there was no future for Henry and me. This marriage is an arrangement on paper only and allows me to pour all of my attention and dedication into the foundation. 

I’m not offering up my heart. With the hurt between us, the loss of a baby, there’s no chance I’ll do something dumb like fall back in love with him. But why is he offering to marry me? 

“Why would you offer to marry me?” I ask. “You don’t even know me anymore. That summer, when I—”

Henry interrupts, “Why the hell are you showing up now? Where the fuck have you been the past seven years?”

The energy in the church shifts, the walls seeming to close in on us. Suddenly, it feels like I’m teetering on a tightrope, with my arms pulled in two different directions. Forward, toward the future, and backward, stuck in the past. 

Declan moves and seems to grow three inches as his anger expands, something I can’t decipher blazing from the depths of his eyes. He widens his stance and folds his arms across his chest. At the loss of his touch, my body turns cold and a flare of awareness, of longing, flickers to life in the pit of my stomach. 

I’ve never seen this side of Declan before, and I’m captivated. He isn’t the teenage boy I gave all my firsts to. No, he’s all man and I feel sad that I missed out on witnessing that transition. 

“I don’t owe you anything,” Declan spits before his eyes find mine again. “And I owe you a hell of a lot more than what you got.” His eyes burn, nearly midnight, as he holds my gaze. 

It almost sounds like an apology and a wave of emotion breaks free at the severity of his expression. I open my mouth but before I can speak, he cuts me off. 

“What are you doing, Vivi?”

I frown. 

“I may not know your favorite cocktail or who you read in college—” 

“She didn’t go to college,” Henry interjects. 

Surprise registers in Declan’s eyes but his hand finds mine and tightens. “But I know you. There’s no chance in hell you’d marry for anything less than love if you weren’t in trouble. Tell me.”

Tell me. Another command. If a different guy said it, even Henry, I’d have my hackles up. But with Declan, my lips part and the truth tumbles out. 

“Granddaddy died. Last week.”

“I know, baby. And I’m so fucking sorry.” Declan’s expression softens, sympathy sweeping through his eyes. 

“I’ve been working for his foundation since I graduated high school. The past few years, I’ve taken on a leadership role. We’re doing a lot of good work. Important work that benefits people—women and children—all over the country.” 

Pride flares in Declan’s eyes and I like seeing it there. The foundation has been my sole priority, the thing that’s kept me moving forward and I like that he’s proud of it. Especially since I’m so unbelievably proud of him. Even though we parted on less than stellar terms, even though we both broke promises and let each other down, I’ve never stopped rooting for him. “At the reading of Granddaddy’s will, my cousin Alfred was named the majority shareholder and CEO of the lumber business. While I thought I’d be running the foundation…” I trail off, heat spreading over my cheeks. I don’t want to sound ungrateful for all that Granddaddy has left me, especially after he raised me when Mom passed and Dad was deployed, but… “there’s a marriage stipulation.”

“Huh?” Declan looks as confused as I felt at the reading. 

“If I marry, by the time I’m twenty-five,” I start. 

“Which is in three days,” Declan points out.

I nod. “Then, I lead the Harrison Foundation. I’ll manage the programs and funds, the selection of board members, all the big decisions.” 

“Everything,” Henry reiterates, and Declan’s eyes widen. 

“If not, Alfred and I will become partners, working together as equals, to ensure the foundation’s future. And it’s not about the title or status,” I rush to explain. 

“Never was with you, Vivi,” Declan agrees.  

“It’s just that Alfred has a different vision than I do. He’s very profit driven, which I can respect in business. But the foundation isn’t like the lumber company. At its core is philanthropy. We don’t make decisions in the name of profit, but in the spirit of doing meaningful work, at creating change, at offering options and resources. With the leadership being split, Alfred and I will never agree. I’m worried that so much of the progress the foundation has created will stop. That all the work I did won’t have the impact I hoped.” 

Declan watches me for a long moment, his eyes searching. He turns to Henry suddenly, “And you were going to marry her to what, keep the legacy of the foundation intact?” 

Henry smirks. “Among other things.”

Declan frowns before shaking his head. “Vivi, your heart’s too damn big.” His voice is raspy, filled with affection I didn’t expect. “I don’t know about the intricacies of Mr. Harrison’s will or why he would make a marriage stipulation. I’m sure he had his reasons. But if you’re marrying anyone today, it’ll be me.”

“Why?” I whisper, desperate to understand the motivation behind his offer. A small seed of hope sprouts and I try to tamp it down before it grows a flower.

Regret flickers in his irises, coloring them charcoal. His nostrils flare and he runs a hand over his curly head the way he does when he’s agitated. Uncertain. “I promised Mr. Harrison I’d…” He trailed off. “Well, I owe it to him and—” 

I take a step back, not liking his words. My hope shrivels. Stupid, stupid girl. 

Declan’s hand darts out and wraps around my wrist, pulling me up short. “I owe it to you, too. I promised I’d look out for you, and I did a piss poor job of that. Let me do right by you, by your family, Vivi. Don’t marry Henry, or any other man, Genevieve. Marry me.”

Declan’s voice cracks on my full name and a pain I didn’t know I still had the capability to feel rips through my chest. Heartache. 

I thought he showed up because he cared. Because a part of him still…wants me, the way I always want him. But he’s here because of a promise he made to Granddaddy. 

I freeze, my body locking down under his touch. When did he make this promise to Granddaddy? When we were still in high school? Or, more recently? I know they never stopped talking. Is this what Granddaddy hoped to achieve with his marriage stipulation? 

Before I can ask, Declan’s eyes narrow, his expression fierce and unyielding. “I didn’t fight for you the way I should have years ago. We swore we’d always be in each other’s lives and…Vivi, I walked out of a game and drove right here because I wanted to see, for myself, if this was real.” He jabs a finger in Henry’s direction but doesn’t look away. “And it’s not. But what we once had…Jesus. Let me help, Vivi. Please.”

My eyes burn as I war with my body to hold back the tears that are accumulating behind my nose, at the back of my throat. I can’t blink. I can’t look away. And I can’t refute Declan’s words because what we once had…was everything. 

“Marry me, Vivi.”

Heat unfurls in my chest, his words hypnotizing. They’re layered in an apology I don’t fully understand but I want it anyway. That summer, I pushed Declan away because I was hurting. Because even though we broke up, I found out only days after he flew to Dublin that I was pregnant with his baby. And then, I watched with horror as photos of him, drinking and partying with his arms slung around girls who weren’t me popped up across social media. My heart broke and all the goodwill, all the feelings of friendship I convinced myself I could hang onto dissipated. Then, when I lost the baby…well, I lost a part of myself. 

I clung to my hurt, to the unfairness of it all. I let that bitterness fuel my actions, keep me from answering Declan’s phone calls, and refuse to see him when he came home to Nashville before leaving for college. 

Declan coming here and making this demand of me, offering this strange sense of closure, is dizzying. It’s fucked up and agonizing and…thrilling. 

My stomach somersaults but I keep my face impassive, not wanting to let on how much his words affect me. How much he affects me. 

“Genevieve, are you sure?” Henry asks. 

I keep my eyes trained on Declan. His thumb traces my cheekbone and I’m captivated by the intensity of his gaze. Gray thunderclouds in a harsh, summer storm. “Be sure, Vivi,” he murmurs. 

Why is my heart rate increasing at his words? I know, firsthand, how easy Declan Yaeger’s pretty words can fall flat. 

It will always be me and you, Vivi. I will always come home to you.

Except he didn’t. And now, it’s for the wrong damn reason. 

I shake the memory from my mind as Henry clears his throat. 

“Father Ward,” Declan bellows.  

Father Ward shuffles back into the church, since I know he was just outside eavesdropping. 

“I’ve come home to marry my Vivi. Today,” Declan says clearly, pulling a gasp from my lips and a begrudgingly impressed chuckle from Henry. But Declan stares straight at me, right down to my soul, the only man who ever saw that deep, when he asks, “Will you marry me, Genevieve Rae?”

His thumb drops, swiping along my jaw, before stopping underneath my chin and tipping my face up to his. 

I can’t read anything in his gaze except that it’s too much. Too full. Swirling, simmering emotions I don’t fully understand. 

“Vivi?” he asks, hurt wrapping around his tone. 

Declan is my best option right now. If I want to keep Granddaddy’s legacy going, if I want to continue doing good, meaningful work, then I need to marry him today. 

I glance at Henry. I take in his amused, slightly concerned expression. 

I let out a shaky exhale and make my decision. 

At least with Declan, there’s a history I can count on. I know he’ll support my work. I know he won’t expect me to dote on him. And I know, given all the baggage and hurt between us, that our relationship will never be more than this. More than a promise he made to Granddaddy and a legacy I vowed to protect. So, I grasp the St. Genevieve pendant hanging around my neck, open my mouth, and say the word I thought I’d always say to Declan, but never out of obligation. “Yes.”

* * *

Declan and I are married an hour  later to the surprised tears and cheers of our entire town. The scent of magnolias perfumes the church. A violin plays softly in the background. The pews are filled, the doors wide open, sunlight streaming in. 

It’s a perfect day for a wedding and mine is beautiful. A beautiful farce. Because I’m marrying a stranger, a man I don’t know anymore even though he once held my heart in his hands. Right now, marrying Declan is the best way to safeguard Granddaddy’s legacy, the mission of the foundation, and my life’s purpose. So, I accept Alfred’s begrudging best wishes, put on a brave smile, and walk down the aisle. 

My wedding dress, an intricate number heavy with beading and layers upon layers of tulle, wraps around me like a protective cloak. My something old, a tiny locket that belonged to Mama, nestles against my heart, right next to Saint Genevieve, like a talisman. I wore it today for luck but now, in this moment, it seems much more than that. 

It feels like Mama is watching over me, watching me marry the man who once ruled my heart, and whispering that it’s all going to turn out okay. For a second in time, a heartbeat, a blink, I lose myself in Declan’s eyes, my future melds with his, and the world stops.

If Mama had to witness any moment of my life, I’m happy it’s this one. 

“You may kiss the bride,” Father Ward announces after Declan and I exchange the rings that Mrs. Cleary delivered to the church upon hearing the news. 

Declan’s hands find my waist and I suck in a breath, already dizzy from the rows of people staring at us, straining to catch a glimpse of our union, one built on past hurts and future hopes. 

The corner of Declan’s mouth quirks up. His eyes blaze, not with the confusion of earlier, but with a yearning I feel bone-deep. His lips part, my chin tips upward, and so slowly I can hear the pounding of my heart, we move. We lean toward each other, pulled by an invisible tug that always existed between us. 

“Vivi,” he breathes out, his words feathering over my lips. Then, his mouth is on mine, and I’m transported to the past. 

Declan’s lips are soft, at odds with the searching looks he’s been shooting my way since I first saw him in the church. But I don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, I want to savor this moment, since it won’t happen again.  

I kiss Declan to secure our marriage in front of our town. But his lips won’t caress mine after this. His kiss is too dangerous, too potent. It has the power to make me believe in things I know aren’t true. Like love and futures, like white houses on hills and baby giggles. Like all the plans we once dreamed up, when we were young and in love and so sweetly naïve. 

But for right now, this one moment…

I close my eyes, I part my mouth, and I kiss Declan Yaeger the same way I did when I was twelve. With hope and heart and heat.

I also pull away first, noting the confusion swirling in his gaze, the frown moving over his face. Clasping his hand in mine, I turn toward our guests and raise our hands in the air, reveling in the joy that rings out, infusing the church with a happy glow I wish was real. Real enough to live in. 

Henry places his hand over his heart and tips his head in my direction. 

Alfred rolls his eyes, but I ignore him. 

Instead, I lift my face toward the heavens and thank Granddaddy for leaving me a legacy worth pursuing. No matter the cost.