The Cece & Juan Vignettes: Chapter 18 - Wedding Bells




Hey, loves! We’re back for the final chapter of the blog series. I know some people will want to see more from Cece and Juan - ie kids, more of Nazio, yadda yadda, haha - and you will get a couple of outtakes from them. But I felt they were better suited as outtakes and less as a part of their blog series. But I felt this particular piece below was the best ending place for their blog series as a whole.

Thanks so much for coming along the ride with me. And once again, shout out to Sasha who did the cover for this blog series - it still makes me grin to see it, I loved it. 

Next blog series will start posting in a month-ish ... it's not who you think! It will be a shorter blog series than the past two with maybe only a few chapters ... but we'll get there. 

Hugs, loves. 

XO

BK


Do you need to catch up?
The entire series is now finished.
The Cece & Juan Vignettes




* 

The Cece & Juan Vignettes
Chapter Eighteen – Wedding Bells
Cece POV

Cece toyed with the delicate lace of her wedding dress. Splayed out over the high curved back of a couch, the gown covered most of the surface and a good portion of the floor. She hadn’t known what she wanted for a wedding dress until this one was staring her right in the face. It screamed everything that she was.
Class. 
Queenly.
The first time she put it on, she had only fallen more in love with the gown, if that were somehow possible. That was months ago. Now here it was, her wedding day, and Juan would finally be able to see the dress, too.
“Busy?”
The familiar voice had Cece smiling and turning away from her dress. Her mother and grandmother slipped into the private room where she would prepare for the day and her wedding. The makeup artist and hairstylist had yet to arrive, most of the wedding party was already there, and the event planner she’d hired to work with the women of her family that wanted to help were getting everything ready for later.
All she had to do was dress, get pretty, and relax.
It was her day.
Or so everyone kept telling her.
“I wanted a moment with you before everybody gets here,” Catrina said, crossing the room first to wrap Cece in a tight hug. “Because I don’t think I’ll see you again until much later—someone is already blowing up my phone because I’m not helping to decorate like I promised.”
That somebody was likely one of her cousins.
Or aunts.
Maybe her other grandmother.
Hell.
Their family wash huge.
It could be anybody.
Roses and honey.
That’s what her grandmother smelled like.
A different version of home.
Catrina’s hand came up to rest against Cece’s smiling cheek. She patted the spot affectionately, her gaze softer than usual. “I’m proud of you, hmm?”
“I know, Grandmama.”
She never forgot to tell her.
Once, she asked her grandmother why she did that—Catrina’s answer hadn’t been at all what she expected. Apparently, her nan wished she had told her own daughter more often … or rather, wished she had recognized earlier what Catherine held the most pride in so that she could do the same.
“And,” Catrina said, pulling a black velvet case from her bag to set on the table beside the couch, “because I promised … that is the jewelry I wore on my wedding day. Taken from the vault just for you—your grandfather had a man follow me there and back and he’s still standing outside right now because according to your grandfather, it’s the point of the matter … as if I couldn’t make it here without somehow losing or damaging it. But, a promise is a promise, right?”
Cece nodded with a laugh. “Right.”
“Keep it safe. They’re yours now.”
“Thank you.”
Catrina winked.
Just as fast, her grandmother brought her in for another tight hug. Catrina’s lips found her forehead with a soft kiss. “I will be back later – just to see you before we all have to get in our chairs later.”
“You better.”
She took one more quick hug from her grandmother before Catrina said her goodbyes. Once the door clicked close, Catherine finally pushed up from the chair near the door where she had found a place to sit while her mother had been in the room.
Her smile matched her mother’s.
Catherine sighed as her gaze found the wedding dress spread out across the large couch. “He’s going to love it—and your father, too.”
“I hope so.”
“They will.”
Once her mother had crossed the room and stood in front of her, Cece sniffed to try and hide the emotions that suddenly came to lodge in her throat. Unlike her grandmother, Catherine made sure that she was going to be with her daughter the entire day because that’s what Cece asked for. Something about that just felt right. Spending the day with her mother before she officially became a married woman was … appropriate.
“Do you remember when you thought he didn’t even notice you?” Catherine asked. “When you were too young … and you thought he couldn’t even see you when he looked your way? Things were a lot more innocent then, I imagine.”
“Something like that.”
“Did you figure it out?”
“Figure out what, Ma?”
“The only person he ever saw was you, Cece.”
Later, when the wedding bells would ring and she found herself standing at the end of the aisle with Juan across from her … she’d remember what her mother said. Amongst many other things about her wedding day that stayed forefront in her memories, that one stood out the most.
Because Catherine had been right.
She usually was.


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