“You better. Doctor’s orders,” she teases. She flashes me a smile and turns to my sister. “Gen, the caterer had some questions about the canapes. I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, so—”

Geneva is already on her feet and grimacing as she bustles out of the door. “Oh, for the love of God! How hard can it be to remember that the fucking canapes go with the…”

Her voice fades as she disappears down the hall. She acts grumpy, but she’s in her element, and everyone here knows it. The smile on her face when I asked her to plan my wedding was something I’ll never forget.

“Those poor caterers,” Sara says after Geneva is gone. She turns to me. “You okay? Feeling good?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Well, mostly. I just… Milana should be here. She should’ve been in a dress just like yours, standing next to us.”

Sara smiles fondly and comes over to touch the back of my hand. “You might’ve had to fight Kolya for her,” she laughs. “He’d want her on his side.”

“I’d let him win that one. I just want her here.” I bite my lip. “I thought about—”

“No, June,” Sara interrupts, grabbing my arm and forcing me to remember the promise we’d made to each other a year ago. “We can’t.”

I drop my head. “I know. Yeah, of course. You’re right.”

“Milana’s free now,” she continues. “She’s at peace. It’s time for you to be happy.”

“I already am,” I assure her. “This past year has been everything I wanted and more. Kolya has been amazing, and I’m pretty sure I make him fairly happy, too.”

Sara snorts. “‘Fairly happy’? I’ve had to tell the man on a biweekly basis to stop smiling so much. It freaks me out.” We chuckle together. “Now, come on, hon. Let’s get you in that dress.”

* * *

The hotel has been restored to perfection in the last six months. We waited to be married just so that we could have the wedding here in the Hudson Valley, in the hotel where Kolya’s mother had last been truly free.

Geneva meets as at the French doors that lead out towards the gazebo. “He’s waiting for you,” she informs me. Her eyes graze over my dress with satisfaction. “You look perfect. Are you sure you don’t want a veil, though?”

“Genny,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We’ve been over this.”

She sighs. “Oh, alright, it’s your wedding. If you’re ready, I can give the signal to start the wedding march.”

I peer out the French doors, trying to get a glimpse of my future husband and my daughter. But there’s too many people blocking my view.

“Is Lili with him?”

Geneva smiles. “You’ll be walking down the aisle to both of them.”

I feel the swell of excitement. This wedding is finally going to happen. By the end of the day, I will officially and legally be Mrs. Kolya Uvarov.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m ready.”