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his gentle approach to things.

Hugo didn’t want to hurt me. He never had and he never would. Even if it were the obvious or easy thing. It just wasn’t his way.

Willing my arm to work once again, I reached up and stroked his cheek, tears of love and joy joining the moisture already on my face. Meeting no resistance, I pulled sweet Hugo, my impromptu Valentine and fiancé, to me, and I kissed him. As long, and as passionately as I could.

Epilogue -

Vega

One Year Later

It was time. The weeks had melted together into months, and finally, it was Valentine’s Day again. Well beyond the fortnight originally agreed on.

Much of it was spent having the dress made. A modern take on a Victorian classic done in ivory. Best to let my dad have his illusions, even though much of the effort of the design went into concealing my baby bump. On the upside, I’d only just entered my third trimester.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Maya said, stepping back for a better look.

How she appeared in California, when she was still in Barcelona when we’d spoken the day before, was a mystery for the ages. Just one of Hugo’s lovely, thoughtful wedding gifts.

Including flying out my dad. The only conspicuous gap in the guest list were his own parents. Hugo was still not ready to face them. He felt like he should try to forgive himself, before he asked their forgiveness. It didn’t seem right. As far as I could tell, all he was really doing was making it so both of their children were ghosts.

“Not wearing it?” Maya asked coyly, moving back in to readjust my veil.

“We figured it was best, “As I spoke, my hand unconsciously went to the vacancy left by the collar.

I would have worn it, but we agreed that, considering the venue, it would be better if I didn’t, but I definitely felt its absence. The stunning set of handmade rings he had ordered from a jeweler in Wales would just have to suffice for now.

“Ready?” Maya asked, as the organ started.

“Absolutely.”

“Atta girl.”

We hugged for my last time as an unmarried woman, and headed out of the tent into the chill of the vineyard.

I wasn’t sure how much of the service Daddy would have understood, despite his best efforts to learn English. Thankfully, he had Maya there to translate. It might not have been the norm for a Maid of Honor to step off to the side once the main event had started, but Maya was never particularly known for being predictable.

And it certainly wasn’t the first tradition Hugo and I had broken.

It reminded me a bit of the circus. A huge white tent set up for the reception in the middle of the field. Only in that case it was full of family and friends as opposed to lions and elephants. Same difference, in some cases, though.

“You invited your staff?” I asked, recognizing many of the faces at one table in particular.

“And the distributor. I’ve gotten to know them really well over the years. They’re more like friends.”

I smiled, but kept the little giggle that threatened to bubble up to myself. It wasn’t the notion itself that tickled me. We knew better than anyone how close professional relationships could get, after all. It was just so like him to make friends with his employees and contractors, to the point of inviting them all to his wedding.

“Speaking of surprising guests - ”

“Oh. My. God.”

They had come in before their cue. I’d planned for a big reveal thing, like in a film. The best laid plans and all.

Hugo was speechless. His mother ran to him and enveloped him in a bear hug, smothering his cheeks in kisses, both of them crying.

“I don’t think he can breathe, my darling,” Mr. Boucher observed, smiling and fighting back a few tears of his own.

“Why won’t you come home?” Mrs. Boucher wailed.

“I didn’t think you would want to see me.”

“Of course we do, son.”

When the tears were dried and some difficult things said, the Bouchers joined us at the head table. Despite the slight language barrier, much of the conversation relayed from French to English between Hugo and I, to Spanish by me to my dad and then back again, our folks got along beautifully. No one mentioned the pregnancy to my dad, and Hugo’s parents were mostly just glad he was doing okay.

Things slowly wound down, and the guests stated to dissipate, going to their rooms in the house or their respective hotels, Hugo got increasingly affectionate. His hand finding its way up my dress and onto my inner thigh. Left bare by my lack of stockings. I wasn’t wearing shoes or underwear either. A fact well concealed by the structure of the wedding dress. Along with the baby I was carrying.

It was like sleight of hand. Hugo getting me out into the hall without anyone noticing us leave.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome, honey.”

I was elevated. Lifted from the cool floor by the power of Hugo’s arms, my darling husband gracing me with a beautiful kiss.

Shifting my position into a more traditional bridal position, he carried me up the stairs to our bedroom to get our honeymoon started off right.

The veil went off first. Each of the clips slipped from their position, allowing my hair to cascade down to my shoulders. Hugo had me hold it out of the way as he slipped my collar back into place.

I sighed as it clicked. The relief making me feel weak as my sweet man properly reclaimed me. I had gotten more into the collaring than I ever thought I would.

One by one, the fasteners popped, the front of the dress slipping from my front, allowing some very welcome air on my sensitive tits, which had already gotten to nearly twice their usual cup size.

With gentle hands, Hugo peeled away the soft, ivory layers one by one, like patiently peeling an orange.

Finally, the last part came down, leaving me naked and

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