“River, hon, stand right here. Before we begin, you need to walk the path of the Earth. Be one with the cycle of life.” Fuck, Petal really thinks I might be pregnant. Which isn’t much of a stretch when you examine my life the last few months. And what am I going to say at our Spring celebration when this entire farce will be over? Oops, false alarm?
Bare feet join me at the candles as I step inside their lighted circle and begin walking around slowly, pausing at three, six, nine, and twelve like I’m the big hand of a large clock. The more I walk around, the more aligned I feel with the universe and time itself. With the pattern of the seasons. My body releases the stress of the last few weeks and it’s empowering, this knowledge that I’m part of a greater force. That I’m not the puppet, I’m the master. I am time, I am nature itself.
I am River Fox and I know exactly where I stand in this universe.
“There she is,” Petal murmurs to the room. “I’ve missed that aura.” I can feel it, too. The blue waves of my existence surrounding me and welcoming me home.
After everyone has taken their turn, we head upstairs to the roof terrace. Stefano went ahead and lit the outdoor heaters for us so we could sit in the comfortable lounge chairs without freezing to death while we share a joint… or four.
“Okay, now that I’m high, I need some explanation, sister mine.” Fuck. I haven’t smoked in a while and I’m afraid I’ll become a blabber mouth at this point.
“Well, brother mine, we are in The City. The Upper East Side,” I say the words with a posh accent like I’m some British butler dismissing a mere mortal begging for change. “It’s Yule and we’re high as fuck.” That pretty much sums up the whole scenario.
“Funny. I’m talking about your… men.” Plural. Not Marco, but the entire menu of my private and professional lives.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s an escort.” I choke at Freya’s words, coughing like a newbie with her first toke.
“Easy, River. You okay?” Petal is my favorite human.
“Did you just call me a prostitute?”
“No, silly, I’m just saying… in the last few weeks, you’ve been… busy.” Fucking Freya and her lack of filter.
“Freya, enough. What the fuck is your problem?” I should feel relief that Kai is defending me, but all I feel is annoyed.
“My problem? Your ex is making her way through the upper crust of New York’s Forbes list and you’re questioning me?” I have to remind myself that it's Yule and punching a bitch goes against my principles of leaving the past behind and embracing the future.
With that thought, the bickering between what are supposed to be lovebirds about to get married fades away and all I can hear is the clarity of my future.
The complexity of my feelings for Kai and how they are tied to my childhood more than my adulthood.
The reality that Nathaniel scares me because he’s real and of all the men I’ve had in my life, he’s never disappointed me. Freud would have a field day with that one. The scared little girl who was just a few months shy of being a legal adult has abandonment issues after her father dies right in front of her eyes.
After both her parents bled out while she sat in the back seat in shock. It took me almost five minutes to snap out of it and grab the phone to call 911.
Five minutes. That’s how quickly my entire life went from normal to horrendous.
Suddenly, this job feels right. Marco as my client feels aligned with what the universe has in store for me, like I’m on the right path. I can see it all so effortlessly, like a movie reel right in front of my eyes.
“I should get married here, on this rooftop.”
“Yes! Oh, yes, that’s perfect. The energy here is invigorating and fresh. It’s new beginnings.” I smile at Petal because she gets it.
“One problem, though. Your wedding is in five days, isn’t everything already planned?” I look at Everest and grin like a madwoman.
“What’s the point of having all this money if you can’t put it to good use?”
* * *
So maybe Everest was right. Changing the venue of a wedding isn’t as easy as snapping fingers, but when Marco Mancini is your betrothed, shit gets done nonetheless. It’s impressive, really. Like people are actually afraid for their lives if they say no to him.
But here I am, at the entrance to the rooftop, just mere days after my epiphany, waiting for the doors to open and for the path to lead me to my very-soon-to-be husband.
And to five million dollars.
The thought makes my stomach churn a little, making me instantly regret the shot of whisky that I took to calm my nerves.
Everest was supposed to walk me down the aisle but he’s still on crutches. That’s not how I ever dreamed of my wedding day, being led by my hopping brother.