Please Me Daddy (Gracie) novel Chapter 12

**Across Distant Skies Lies Hope Waiting To Be Found by Kade Rowan Flint**

As I stood before the glass doors of the boutique, the gentle chime of the bell announced my arrival, a sound that felt both welcoming and mocking. The moment I stepped inside, I was enveloped by a heady mix of floral fragrances, particularly the sweet aroma of fresh roses that danced in the air, mingling with the comforting scent of warm linen. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to be swept away by the atmosphere, a bittersweet reminder of a future I had once envisioned.

Couples strolled through the showroom, their laughter ringing out like music, weaving through the air as they held hands with an ease that seemed almost foreign to me. I watched as brides twirled in front of mirrors, their veils billowing like clouds, while their partners gazed at them with a kind of adoration that made my heart ache.

This was supposed to be our day.

In my mind’s eye, I could see Charles and me entering this very boutique, fingers intertwined, our hearts beating in unison. I could picture him waiting for me, a warm smile illuminating his face as I emerged in the dress I had chosen with such care. He would have told me how beautiful I looked, laughter echoing around us as we shared that perfect moment.

But I shook my head, dispelling the fantasy that threatened to ensnare me. There was no room for nostalgia today. I was here for a specific purpose, a mission that felt both daunting and necessary.

A woman behind the counter caught my attention, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Dressed in a pastel pink ensemble that seemed to radiate joy, her perfectly styled hair bounced as she rushed toward me, exuding an energy that was almost overwhelming.

“Mrs. Gracia!” she exclaimed, her voice lilting with excitement. “You’re here already! How wonderful! Everyone is eagerly waiting for your dress fitting. They’re just in the back, ready for you!”

I felt a sudden tension grip my body. “Please, call me Miss,” I replied, trying to maintain a facade of composure, though my heart raced at the title she had mistakenly bestowed upon me.

She giggled, giving my hand a playful swat, as if I were a child resisting a fun game. “Oh, come on! You’ll be a Mrs. in just a few days. What’s the point in pretending otherwise?”

Before I could voice my protest again, she was already leading me down the hallway, her enthusiasm infectious yet overwhelming, like a wave crashing over me.

We turned a corner and entered a softly lit room adorned with plush seating, champagne glasses poised on a gleaming tray, and a standing mirror framed in gold that seemed to beckon me forward.

And there they were—two familiar faces that instantly eased the tightness in my chest.

Eleanor and Wyatt.

Eleanor lounged effortlessly, one leg crossed over the other, her wild red hair framing her face in an artful disarray. Freckles danced across her cheeks, and her black leather jacket hugged her frame like a second skin, exuding a confidence that was magnetic. She was the kind of woman who didn’t just enter a room—she commanded it.

Beside her sat Wyatt, the loyal companion, his soft eyes and tousled black curls contrasting sharply with Eleanor’s fiery presence. He was the calm to her storm, and somehow, their dynamic was perfectly harmonious.

They were whispering to each other, Eleanor’s laughter ringing out as she nudged Wyatt playfully. They embodied every version of love I had once dreamed of.

I had introduced them back in high school. Wyatt was shy, often overlooked by his peers, while Eleanor was a force of nature, fiercely pursuing him. I could still recall the day she stood up to two boys who were bullying him behind the gym, her fists flying while Wyatt looked on, mortified yet grateful. Eleanor had emerged victorious, and from that day forward, they were inseparable.

A year after graduation, they tied the knot, and now, they were proud parents to twins, Lucas and Liana.

“Gracia!” Wyatt’s voice broke through my thoughts, his warm, boyish smile lighting up his face like the sun breaking through clouds.

“There she is!” Eleanor chimed in, her eyes sparkling with delight.

They approached, and Eleanor enveloped me in a tight hug, her warmth wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Wyatt followed suit, his embrace more cautious, as if he sensed the weight I carried.

Despite everything, a smile crept onto my face. Eleanor pulled back, her gaze scrutinizing me from head to toe, her expression shifting to one of concern.

“Why do you look like that?” she teased, her voice playful but edged with curiosity. “You look like you’ve been up all night. What happened?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. God, Eleanor.

Of course, she would notice. She always did. It was as if she had a sixth sense for these things—too sharp for her own good.

“Eleanor,” Wyatt murmured, rubbing the back of his neck, “can we not say things like that? We’re in public.”

She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Why not? You’re not my daddy.”

The word sent a jolt through me, catching my breath in my throat. Instinctively, my hand pressed against my chest, as if to quell the unexpected stir of familiarity it ignited.

Huh, why did that word resonate so deeply?

Eleanor blinked, concern knitting her brows. “Hey—are you okay?”

I nodded quickly, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

Wyatt frowned, his concern palpable. “You should’ve stayed home. Charles said you were too exhausted to come today.”

Just hearing his name twisted my stomach into knots, and my smile faded like a distant memory.

Eleanor noticed the shift immediately, her gaze sharpening. “What happened?” she asked, her voice laced with worry. “Gracia, you’re acting strange.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps and voices drew my attention. I turned, my heart dropping as I spotted my ex-fiancé, Charles, walking beside him was Mark, his new lover.

They were deep in conversation, laughter spilling between them until their eyes landed on me. Time seemed to freeze, and I watched as Charles’s face drained of color, his expression shifting to one of shock.

“G-Gracia…” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the very sound of my name was foreign to him.

I remained silent, my gaze dropping to Mark’s hand, where he held my wedding dress like a trophy, a symbol of a future that had slipped through my fingers.

Disbelief twisted into disgust as I shook my head slowly.

“Charles,” I said, my voice cold and steady, “you’re becoming more shameless every day. How dare you.”

“Don’t even try it,” Wyatt warned, his voice low and steady.

People always underestimated Wyatt. With his soft curls and gentle demeanor, they forgot he was built like someone who could defend himself. Right now, there was no softness in his expression.

Eleanor turned me toward her, her hands firm on my shoulders. “Gracia,” she said sharply, “what happened? What did this bastard do?”

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to speak. “He cheated on me.”

Eleanor’s entire body went rigid. Her gaze shifted slowly to Charles, her eyes darkening with fury. In an instant, she lunged forward.

“You son of a—!”

Charles let out a startled yelp, stumbling backward, but Wyatt caught Eleanor, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her slightly off the ground.

“Let me go!” she shouted, kicking in frustration. “I have to kill this asshole! Just one punch!”

“Breathe,” Wyatt urged, struggling to hold her. “Calm down, baby.”

Eleanor growled but finally ceased her thrashing, her chest rising and falling as she glared at Charles. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll just take them both down together. Just tell me who the other woman is. I swear I’ll—”

I glanced at Charles, and saw the panic in his eyes, the pleading look that begged me to stay silent. My heart twisted, not out of pity, but out of a desire to protect myself from the fallout of exposing him in front of all these strangers.

I opened my mouth to change the subject, to let it go. But before I could, he blurted out, “She’s lying! I didn’t cheat with Mark! I’m not gay!”

Silence engulfed the room.

It was the kind of silence that made your skin crawl, the kind where you could hear a pin drop, echoing in the stillness of the boutique.

Someone from the back muttered, “Shit. He’s gay?”

Another voice chimed in, “This is not what I expected.”

Eleanor and Wyatt stared at him, too stunned to respond. Charles realized a second too late what he had just admitted, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide with horror.

I scoffed, turning to my friends. “Well, there you have it. Charles is gay.”

In the wake of that explosive revelation, the air in the boutique crackled with tension, but beneath it all, a sense of liberation began to unfurl within me. The burden I had carried for so long—of love unreciprocated, of dreams shattered—started to lift, replaced by an unexpected clarity. I had entered this space filled with memories of a future that would never come to pass, yet here I stood, surrounded by friends who reminded me of the strength I possessed. Eleanor’s fierce loyalty and Wyatt’s quiet support anchored me, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I found a flicker of hope. The truth had emerged, not just about Charles, but about myself—my worth, my resilience, and the possibility of love that awaited me beyond the pain.

As I left the boutique, the sunlight spilled over me like a warm embrace, illuminating the path ahead. The laughter of couples faded into the background, replaced by the gentle thrum of my own heartbeat—a reminder that I was still here, still whole. The journey ahead would not be easy, but I was ready to embrace it, to discover the love that was truly meant for me. Across distant skies, I could see hope waiting to be found, and with every step I took, I felt lighter, freer, and more alive than I had in a long time. I was no longer defined by my past; I was stepping into a future that shimmered with possibility, and I was determined to chase after it with an open heart.