Chapter 138: Chapter 138 But you deserved a real wedding
Aria’s POV
He looked at me like I’d just suggested something absurd, but he did it anyway. His eyes closed, his expression softening for just a moment.
The candlelight flickered across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones. God, he was beautiful.
When he opened his eyes and blew out the candles, I had to shake myself out of my daze.
I served Elena and Andrew first, then turned to cut Damian a slice—except he’d already cut himself a massive piece.
I knew he didn’t like sweets. I’d been prepared for him to politely decline.
But he ate every bite. Slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving mine.
"It’s good," he said simply.
My heart did something complicated in my chest.
Elena and Andrew ate enthusiastically too, both of them beaming like proud parents.
After we finished, Grace called on video chat. Then Damian’s grandfather joined the call. Everyone wanted to congratulate us, to welcome me officially.
While Damian talked with his grandfather, Elena gently took my arm and led me upstairs.
"I want to show you the room we prepared," she said, guiding me down a quiet hallway in the south wing.
The bedroom was stunning. Champagne silk bedding. Plush ivory rugs. Soft amber lighting from crystal lamps. Everything felt warm, intimate, and... intentional.
Elena walked me through the adjoining closet, which was filled with clothes—all in my size. Designer labels, casual wear, sleepwear, even lingerie.
"I had everything delivered after we went dress shopping last week," she explained. "I wanted you to feel at home here. If there’s anything else you need, just say the word. Or tell Damian—he’ll get it for you."
"This is already too much," I said, overwhelmed. "Everything is perfect."
"Nonsense." She squeezed my hand. "You’re family now."
I glanced back at the bedroom—at the huge, soft bed dominating the space.
My face burned.
Elena noticed immediately. Her expression shifted from excited to understanding.
"Oh, sweetheart," she said gently, leaning closer. "If you’re not ready, you can make him sleep on the couch."
"I can’t do that," I said quickly. "He won’t rest properly."
Elena’s smile turned knowing. "Already worrying about your husband’s comfort? Marriage changes things fast, doesn’t it?"
"I didn’t mean—"
"Relax, dear," she laughed. "What happens between you two is your business. I just want you to be comfortable." She patted my arm. "Damian values you. He’ll take his time. Trust that."
After Elena left, I stood alone in the quiet room, my fingers trailing over the silk sheets.
My mind kept circling back to Damian. To the way he’d looked at me tonight. The way he’d held my hand in the car. The way he’d said *our place* instead of *my place*.
Everything felt different now. Bigger. More real.
I heard the door open behind me two hours later.
"Aria?"
Damian’s voice was soft, like he thought I might be asleep.
"I’m here," I called back.
I wasn’t on the bed. I’d curled up on the oversized couch near the window, wrapped in a throw blanket, scrolling mindlessly through my phone.
When I sat up, the blanket slipped off my shoulders. I’d already showered and changed into the white lace nightgown Elena had left for me. My damp hair fell loose around my face.
Damian’s gaze swept over me, and something heated flickered in his eyes before he looked away.
"Why are you on the couch?" he asked, crossing the room to sit beside me.
I could smell him—clean soap, cedar, something distinctly *him*.
"Waiting for you," I admitted. "How was the call with your grandfather?"
"Fine." He sighed, leaning back and pulling me against him without hesitation. His arms came around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Talking to him is exhausting."
I didn’t ask why. I just lifted my hand and ran my fingers gently through his hair.
"You should rest," I murmured. "Go take a shower. Then sleep."
He huffed a quiet laugh against my neck. "Together?"
My heart stuttered. "What?"
"Sleep together," he clarified, his voice dropping lower. "We’re married now, Aria. Or were you planning to make me sleep alone?"
"I wasn’t—"
Before I could finish, he stood and scooped me up effortlessly.
I gasped, my arms flying around his neck.
"Damian!"
He carried me to the bed and set me down carefully, his hands lingering on my waist. In the dim light, his eyes were dark, intense.
"I’ll shower first," he said, his thumb brushing my cheek. "Don’t go anywhere."
Then he was gone, disappearing into the bathroom.
I sat frozen on the bed, my pulse racing.
*Together. Tonight.*
I knew what that could mean. We’d been intimate before—but this felt different. We were married now. Officially bonded in the eyes of the law.
When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later, wearing only a towel slung low on his hips, I nearly stopped breathing.
Water still clung to his shoulders. His dark hair was damp, falling across his forehead. Every muscle in his chest and abdomen was sharply defined.
I yanked the blanket over my head like a child.
I heard him laugh—a low, warm sound that made my stomach flip.
The bed dipped as he climbed in beside me. Then the blanket was gently tugged away, and I was staring up at him.
"I was only gone a few minutes," he teased. "Miss me already?"
"You’re not wearing clothes," I managed, my voice strangled.
"You’re holding onto me pretty tightly for someone who’s complaining."
I looked down. My hands were pressed flat against his bare chest. I jerked them back like I’d been burned.
Damian smirked and stood, pulling on a soft T-shirt and sleep pants before returning to bed.
The lights clicked off.
Darkness settled around us, broken only by a sliver of moonlight through the curtains.
I felt him shift closer, his arm sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him.
"Relax," he murmured against my hair. "I’m just holding you tonight. That’s all."
His breath was warm on my neck. His heartbeat steady against my back.
Slowly, carefully, I let myself relax into him.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Good girl."
His voice was already drowsy, his grip tightening just slightly.
And despite every nerve in my body being on high alert, I felt... safe. Wanted. *Home*.
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.
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