Author’s Note: This fic came to me in pieces. First, I’ve been thinking about writing a follow-up to my fic Waiting since @kamybelen-blog mentioned a fic about Drake and Emma’s wedding night. (Spoiler alert – stay tuned for that one!) I have also wanted to do a bachelorette party story after listening (on repeat) to the addictive song “I Love It” by Icona Pop. Plus I thought it would be fun to throw in some angsty scenes for Drake and Emma around wedding planning, and thus . . . this series was born. I hope you enjoy the second installment of the ‘Our Own Kind of Fairytale’ series. Stay tuned for more chapters soon!
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“Warner, I couldn’t honestly care less whether we have white roses or peonies in the bouquets. I don’t even know the difference!” Drake’s voice raised in obvious frustration. He exhaled and took a moment to calm himself, closing his eyes to avoid the disappointed look he knew Emma was giving him. He was trying, he really was . . . trying to help her make these miniscule wedding decisions and be supportive of the huge extravaganza they were planning. But, deep down in his heart, he was starting to feel more and more on the outside looking in on his own wedding.
As he steadied his breathing and finally looked back at Emma, he found a vapid expression on her face. Shit, he thought. Now I’ve really done it.
Emma didn’t speak for a few moments, searching for the right words. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes before responding. “Look . . . Drake, I know this is not your first choice doing the big wedding. It wouldn’t have been my first choice either. But I feel like we have an opportunity with our wedding to show the people of Cordonia that we are united and we are strong. I feel like it’s our responsibility to do this for them.” Her voice was flat and emotionless, but Drake could see the hurt in her eyes. “And I thought you felt the same way.”
Drake took a step back and paced the length of the room, raking his fingers through his thick dark hair. This conversation was not going well, and he had never been good at compromising or keeping his opinions to himself. He lifted his gaze back to her and found her waiting expectantly for him to respond. He swallowed hard before proceeding carefully. “I do feel the same way, or at least . . . I thought I did. But now as we’re getting closer to the big day . . . I’m just having a hard time getting excited about this circus that we’ve created.” He walked up to Emma, trailing a finger down her cheek and continued speaking in a whisper. “All I want in the world is to be married to you. None of this other stuff means anything to me.”
Emma understood what he meant, it was the same thing she had been feeling amidst all the trivial decisions. Steak or chicken? Fireworks or a dove release? String quartet or a pianist? This whole wedding had become too big . . . a circus, as Drake had labeled it. Yet, time and time again during this whole exhausting process, her sense of responsibility for Cordonia had overthrown her own desires and she had persevered. So while she understood Drake’s position, she also wished he could be more supportive of their decision. She needed a partner, and if Drake was unwilling to play along with planning this circus of a wedding for the country he loved . . . she worried he may not be a partner in other aspects of their life together. She closed her eyes, praying that this wasn’t true. She released the long breath that she hadn’t even realized she had been holding in. She looked up into his deep chocolate eyes, trying not to lose herself in them as she struggled to stand her ground. “I understand Drake. I do. But sometimes it‘s not just about us and what we want. And I need to know that you’re with me, even if it’s hard. We both have to make sacrifices.” She paused and looked down at her hands before continuing. “And I’m worried if we can’t make sacrifices for this wedding . . . what happens when things get rough during our marriage?” She could feel the tears beginning to form in her eyes, but fought them back. She had to stay strong.
Drake stood in front of her, speechless and stunned at her confession. How could she possibly think that he wasn’t making sacrifices in all of this? He would do anything for this woman! But as they stood in silence, he began to doubt . . . he began to worry. Maybe I’m not good enough for her. I can’t even keep my mouth shut about the wedding . . . I can’t even suck it up and play the part of the dutiful groom to give her the wedding she wants. He scowled, the self-doubt beginning to eat him up inside.
Emma cut off his train of thought. “Ahem . . . well, I need to leave to go get ready for the bachelorette party,” she stated plainly. She still avoided looking directly at him for fear of her resolve faltering. “And you need to get ready for the bachelor party. The guys will be by to get you in an hour.” When she finally raised her eyes to his face, she found him staring at the floor with his brow furrowed in contemplation. No, not just contemplation . . . he looked almost sad. Her heart ached at the sight. She quickly stepped on her tip-toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. As she stepped down, she muttered “We’ll talk more later, okay?” She waited a few more moments for him to respond, but Drake didn’t move.
Reluctantly, Emma turned around and walked slowly out of the room. She kept her composure as she navigated through the palace halls until she finally found her quarters. She walked silently through the door and closed it behind her, then leaned back against it and burst into tears.
As Emma entered her room, Drake was still frozen in place where she left him, her words echoing in his mind.
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Emma heard a knock on her door along with a chipper “Are you ready to party?!?!?!” Hana. Emma thought to herself as she opened the door to allow Hana to shimmy in. She was already dancing as she walked into the room, humming a fast-paced pop song to herself. She turned around to face Emma, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of Emma’s red, puffy eyes and runny nose.
“Oh no, what happened?” Hana reached to embrace Emma, and Emma willingly melted into her arms and began sobbing again. Hana just held her and stroked her hair for what could have been a minute or ten . . . she had lost all track of time as she let all of her emotions pour out in her tears. Finally, as the crying slowed and her breathing steadied, Hana stepped back and gazed at her friend lovingly. “Now, there. Do you feel a little better? I know a good cry always makes me feel better.” Emma just nodded. “Do you want to talk about it, Em?”
Emma paused, not quite sure how to explain the occurrences of this afternoon and the feelings leading up to them over the past two months. “It’s Drake. We had a fight.” She glanced at her dear friend, who looked at her compassionately as she continued. “We were discussing the wedding and trying to make some last minute decisions . . . and he just blew up. Like he didn’t even care!” She sniffled and dabbed her eyes before continuing. “But you know what hurts the worst? As I was standing there listening to him explain that he never wanted a big wedding, that all of this was too much, part of me was agreeing with him. I just . . . I feel terrible that this wedding isn’t about us anymore. But I couldn’t say that, I didn’t admit the truth to him. That I wont give it up because I still think it’s our duty for Cordonia!” She huffed in frustration. “And now he thinks that he’s the one to blame, because I can’t give up on my sense of responsibility. Do I have my priorities completely mixed up?”
Hana put her arm around Emma’s shoulder and cradled her head against her. “No, no Sweetie. You’ve just got a lot of priorities to deal with in all this. Maybe there’s something you can do for the wedding to make it special for just you and Drake.”
Emma groaned. “Ugh, I’m trying! I’ve incorporporated his favorite color green into the color scheme, I let him pick out all the music for the ceremony, and we even added a whiskey tasting bar for the reception! The problem isn’t these little pieces of the wedding, it’s that the wedding is too damn big and impersonal. And I don’t know how to change that unless we cancel the press and uninvite 400 guests!”
Hana chuckled. “Okay, okay . . . so maybe this one’s a little tougher of a compromise.” She leaned back and looked into Emma’s eyes, placing a hand on each shoulder. “But . . . I know you. And I know how much you love this man. And I KNOW that you will find a way to make this right.” She smiled and patted a thumb under Emma’s eyes and along her cheekbone, then grimaced when she realized this tear-swollen visage was going to need a little more work. “Alright, now you need to have some fun. We’ve got a wild night of dancing and drinks planned for you. So let’s get some cucumbers on these swollen eyes and you just relax while I pick you out a dress and fix your hair.”
Emma grasped Hana’s hand as it dropped from her cheek, holding it tightly in her own. “Thank you Hana. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She started to get choked up again.
“Uh uh, no more crying! You’re going to make me cry!” Hana exclaimed, quickly standing up and facing the other direction. She sniffled a little, fighting back her own tears. When she turned back to face Emma, they both burst out in laughter at their emotional interaction. Hana shook her head, then walked towards the closet. “Let’s see now . . . we need to pick you out something hot for your last official night out as a single lady.” She winked at Emma as she started rummaging through the clothing.
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Drake stared at the smoke swirling around his hand and up into the air, mesmerized by the patterns as it dissolved. Although the robust Cuban cigar had burned down halfway, he couldn’t even remember if he’d actually enjoyed any of the delicacy. He took another long draw of his 25 year aged whiskey, a luxury that he would normally have wanted to savor . . . but tonight he was just trying to numb the pain. All he could think about was his fight earlier with Emma and the nagging regret of how he should have reacted. He leaned forward and rested his elbow on his knee, massaging his fingers against his temple as he pondered his current predicament.
“Well I don’t know about you guys, but this sure is the wildest bachelor party I’ve ever been to!” Maxwell’s sarcastic outburst startled Drake from his thoughts. He looked around at his friends, all of whom were staring at him with concern and confusion.
“Maxwell, why don’t you make sure the group is entertained for a while. I’d like to talk with Drake.” Liam moved over to the leather couch to sit beside Drake. Maxwell proceeded provide a very detailed demonstration of how to “dab” to Rashad, Tariq and Bertrand, who all feigned interest in order give the two friends some privacy. Liam turned to face Drake. “Okay man, spill it. What’s going on with you? I know you love to sulk in the corner, but never when there’s Cubans and good whiskey involved.”
Drake smirked. Liam knew him too well, and he knew how to make him laugh when he needed it the most. “I’m starting to feel like I’m not cut out for this big wedding. I’m not you, I’m not used to all the grandeur and attention. And today I really lashed out at Emma . . . over some small wedding detail that I don’t even recall.” He shrugged his shoulders with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t want to disappoint her Liam, but I’m feeling very out of my league here. I’m worried that she’s going to regret marrying me.”
Liam let out a low whistle. “Hmm, sounds like someone is playing the “poor, pitiful me” card again.” Drake cut his eyes at Liam, who had a subtle grin spread across his lips. “But I don’t think you see what the rest of us see. When you and Emma are together, no one around could doubt that you two are meant to be together.” He looked down thoughtfully, clasping his hands together before continuing. “And as the man that tried to marry her myself, trust me when I say that she will never regret marrying you. Because she never looked at me the way she looks at you.”
Drake could not formulate a sufficient response. “Shit . . . Liam, I’m sor-“
“No Drake. Do not apologize.” Liam looked him in the eye now, using his stern “King” voice. “You promise me that you will love her and be the man she needs, the man she chose over becoming a queen . . . you make that promise, and you will never have reason to apologize. So you marry her in the royal abbey or a barn, it doesn’t matter. Because she wants to spend the rest of your lives together if you will let her.”
Drake felt Liam’s pain in his words, despite the authoritative tone. This was Liam’s permission and encouragement to marry Emma, if only he’d get out of his own damn way. After a lifetime of doubting his own worth, Drake had the woman of his dreams waiting to marry him. Who cares if they have to perform in a circus to get to the other side . . . wouldn’t all this be worth it at the moment the priest pronounced them ‘man and wife’? The thought of calling Emma his wife was enough to break his sullen exterior with a playful sneer.
“You know, I had always wanted to get married in a barn, but I guess the abbey will have to do.” Drake looked up at Liam with amusement, expressing the unspoken brotherly bond they had shared for 22 years. He extended a hand to Liam, who took it in his own in a firm handshake.
“Now that’s more like it.” Liam bellowed. “So, what would the groom like to do now? More whiskey, another cigar . . . perhaps a visit to the finest cabaret in town?” He nodded enthusiastically and wiggled his eyebrows at his final suggestion.
Drake chuckled, shaking his head. “No man, there’s only one girl in the world I want to see right now.”
“Good! That was a test. And you passed.” Liam patted him on the shoulder as he stood up. “Now let’s go get your girl!”
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Emma, Hana, Penelope, Olivia and Madeleine lounged in the private VIP section at the posh new club in town, le Pomme de Feu. Penelope and Hana were sipping champagne and giggling in the corner, Madeleine was sitting upright and frantically texting away on her phone and Olivia blatantly gawked at every good-looking male that walked by. Emma was trying to loosen up and laugh with Penelope and Hana, but her mind kept wandering back to Drake. She downed her second glass of champagne and poured herself another before returning to the conversation.
“So the trick to a perfect soufflé is simply timing. You have to be one with it, you just feel when it’s . . . Oh, excuse me.” Hana glanced at her buzzing phone and read the incoming text, a small smile spreading across her lips. She typed in a few lines as her friends observed.
“What is it?” Penelope inquired.
“Oh, nothing! Just a little note from Maxwell saying hello.” Hana’s eyes met Emma’s as she glanced up from her phone, then she quickly averted her line of sight and she shoved it back in her clutch. “So, where was I? Oh yes, the timing of a soufflé . . . .”
Just then, Emma heard a commotion behind her. She turned to find a partially-drunk Maxwell chatting up the bouncer to the VIP section. Apparently his methods of persuasion were not convincing, as the bouncer stood astutely blocking the entrance with his arms crossed. Maxwell continued to point in the direction of the bachelorette party and waved his arms to get their attention, but was politely hushed by Liam as he and Drake approached the bouncer. Liam shook the bouncer’s hand warmly and began a dialogue, then starting signaling for the other men to enter.
Drake remained at Liam’s side as he searched the crowd for Emma. Then he saw her and he could swear his heart skipped a beat. His eyes met hers across the crowd and a warm smile spread across her face. She was a sight to behold, wearing a tasteful but contemporary peachy-nude cocktail dress with sequined scalloped design over the fabric. Her long, dark hair was slightly wavy and pulled to the side over one shoulder, exposing her other sun-kissed shoulder accented by only a delicate strap. The hem hit at mid-thigh, revealing her lean, toned legs. God, she’s beautiful, he thought as they started to move towards one another.
“Hi.” She offered, gazing up at him.
“Hi.” He returned, suddenly realizing he should have planned out what he was going to say on the trip over.
“I’m sorry!” They both blurted out at the same time, then laughed at the awkwardness of their outbursts.
Drake reached for her hands and cupped them in his own, holding them tightly against his chest. “No, I’m sorry, Warner. I lost my patience today and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”
“I get it Drake, I know that you’re struggling with the wedding. And to be honest, so am I.” Emma paused as Drake raised his eyebrows in question. “I kind of wish we could sneak away and elope, just us and our closest friends and family. That’s what I really want in my heart. But that’s not the card we were dealt, not with my new role in Valtoria and the current state of Cordonia. So my head is telling me that we need to do this.” She peered into his eyes, looking for a sign of understanding.
Drake leaned down and kissed her, a soft kiss of remorse and forgiveness. He pulled away with a gentle smile on his lips. “You know Warner, that’s why I love you. Because deep down we want the same things, but you also remind me that it’s not just about what we want. You make me a better man.”
“Well I think you were pretty damn great to begin with.” Emma hooked her arms around his neck and kissed him again, this time deeply. She felt an overwhelming feeling of relief and contentment wrapped in his arms, pressing her lips into his. It felt as if they were the only two people in the world . . .
“Hey guys, hey guys!” Drake and Emma were startled back to reality by a boisterous Maxwell, practically bouncing next to them. Drake rolled his eyes. “Ooooh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt . . . that. But we got shots coming. You gotta get back over to our section!” Maxwell jabbed Drake in the shoulder as he grabbed Emma by the arm and dragged her back towards their lounge area. Emma threw a glance back to Drake over her shoulder and offered a quick nod for him to follow.
As the group gathered around the table, the waiter set out two rounds of tequila shots for everyone in the party. Drake settled in next to Emma, lacing his fingers through hers at his side. She beamed up at him, and a wave of certainty washed over him. This is it, she’s it for me. Forever. The feeling overwhelmed him and he felt the sudden urge to shout it from the rooftops. So he picked up a shot glass and did the next best thing.
“I’d like to propose a toast to this marvelous woman here, who for some unknown reason has agreed to be my wife.” Drake grinned at Emma beside him, tears beginning to accumulate in her eyes. He leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek before continuing. “And to our wonderful friends. Thank you all for putting up with us and giving us that little extra push when we need it most.” He nodded to Liam then Hana in acknowledgment. He cleared his throat as he began to realize that everyone was waiting for his next move. “So now . . . we drink! Cheers!” He raised his shot glass before bringing it to his lips.
“Cheers!” “Slainte!” “Bottoms up!” The group exclaimed as everyone turned up their glasses and downed the fiery liquid.
The party continued on for some time, with more rounds of shots and drinks, a lot of laughing and plenty of dancing from most of the group. Of course, Drake much preferred watching Emma shaking on the dancefloor while sipping his whiskey than actually partaking in the dancing himself. But as an upbeat tune came on over the sound system, Emma grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her to the center of the floor. “I love this song. And you’re mine Walker.” She giggled as she lead him through the crowd, partially from the multiple rounds of drinks and partially from her own giddiness.
They found a spot with their friends, who were already hopping around to the uplifting music. Emma held Drake’s hands with hers in the air as she moved to the rhythm and started belting out the chorus. “I don’t care, I love it. I don’t care, I love it I love it!” Her energy was infectious and soon Drake found himself moving with her. They merged with the rest of the group and danced to the beat, laughing and singing the lyrics together. By the end of the song, Drake was breathless but exhilarated. He bent down to kiss Emma on the cheek, then whispered slyly in her ear “You dancing like that isn’t making it any easier to wait until our wedding night, Warner.” He smirked as her jaw dropped at his cheeky confession, gave her ass a playful pat before mouthing “I love you” and walking back towards their table.
“Wow, I can’t believe you convinced him to dance.” Liam said as he and Hana approached. “I don’t think I’ve seen him dance like that since . . . well, since ever!” The three of them laughed out loud, Emma shaking her head in astonishment.
“I’m glad I’ve got you two for a minute alone.” Emma peaked around, ensuring no one else was listening. “Hana, I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier about compromising on the wedding. And I’ve got an idea, but I’m going to need your help.”
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To be continued . . .