My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 225: Just For Today (2)

Play this as loud as you can while reading this Chapter. Grab some tissue and water, too.

[~Song Recommendation: Give You Love - Alex Warren~]

The sun had started its descent, casting a golden hue across the sea, turning the sky into a canvas of warm pastels—peach, lavender, and soft amber.

The beach had been transformed.

A buri carpet ran across the sand like a sacred path, laid out with precision and love. Along the sides were white ceramic vases filled with fresh flowers—roses, peonies, baby’s breath—all in soft whites, pale yellows, and whispering pinks. The vases stood like silent witnesses to a moment that wasn’t supposed to happen... and yet had to.

At the end of the aisle, under a wedding arbour wrapped in lush green leaves and blooming florals, stood Greg.

His tan-colored suit—boho in cut, relaxed but tailored—fit him like second skin. He didn’t look like the man who had cried in someone’s arms hours ago. No, now he looked like a groom.

But his eyes... his eyes betrayed him.

They shimmered, wide and full of wonder and pain and disbelief.

Then, from behind the driftwood-paneled door of the villa, she stepped out.

Cammy.

She moved like poetry—slow, graceful, her dress catching the breeze like a second soul. The spaghetti straps kissed her shoulders, and the lace of her bodice shimmered faintly in the sun’s embrace. The skirt of her gown swayed around her like seafoam meeting shore, soft and untamed.

Her hair had been braided loosely to the side with tiny pearls tucked between the strands, her makeup dewy and natural, enhancing the emotions already radiating from her.

Every step she took on the buri carpet was a fight against the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes.

But she smiled.

Smiled through the ache, through the chaos in her heart, through the storm that had brought her here.

And Greg—

Greg couldn’t hold it in.

Tears spilled freely down his face, not out of sadness but out of awe, out of pure, raw, uncontainable love. His smile was crooked, trembling with everything he couldn’t say out loud.

The guests stood—quiet, reverent, breathless.

As Cammy finally reached the end of the aisle, she looked up at him, her own eyes glassy.

She didn’t hesitate.

She lifted her hand and gently brushed the tears off Greg’s cheeks, her fingers delicate, reverent, trembling.

"You’re ruining your boho prince look," she teased, her voice barely above a whisper, trying to mask the emotion pooling in her throat.

Greg laughed softly, catching her wrist and pressing it to his lips.

"Then let me ruin it all the way," he whispered back.

And they stood there—just the two of them—underneath a sky that seemed to mourn and rejoice all at once, with the ocean as their witness and the wind whispering secrets only they would ever understand.

The waves lapped gently at the shore, a rhythmic hymn that harmonized with the hush of the guests and the fragile beating of two hearts standing at the altar.

Judge Thompson stepped forward beneath the flower-draped arbour, his presence calm and dignified, yet there was a softness in his eyes—one that spoke of understanding, and perhaps, a history with love that didn’t follow rules.

He looked between Cammy and Greg, then opened a small leather-bound book, though his words came not from the pages, but from something deeper.

"This union we witness today may not carry the weight of law... but it carries something heavier—choice. Intention. Hope. Two people standing before each other despite the odds, despite the pain, despite the unknown."

Cammy swallowed, her eyes locked on Greg’s. His hands held hers as if letting go would make her disappear.

"And so, even if this marriage isn’t yet bound by ink and paper," Judge Thompson continued, "it is bound by something far more powerful. A promise. If you are both ready, you may share your vows."

Greg nodded, unable to hide the emotion quivering through him. He turned fully to Cammy, still holding her hands, and took a shaky breath.

"Cammy..." His voice cracked already, and he gave a small laugh at himself. "I don’t know how to be poetic, or perfect, or even smart about this. I only know that from the moment you entered my life, everything made more sense—even when it didn’t. Even when it hurt."

Tears shimmered in her eyes.

"I may not deserve this moment. I may not deserve you. But today, if you’ll let me, I vow to stand beside you even if I’m not allowed to hold you. I vow to protect your peace, even if I can’t be a part of it. And if—" he choked, took a beat, then whispered, "—if it turns out that loving you is something I must do from afar... I will still love you. Every single day. Quietly, completely, and without regret."

A tear slipped down Cammy’s cheek. She didn’t wipe it away.

She didn’t need to.

She stepped closer, their foreheads almost touching.

"Greg..." Her voice was soft but certain. "When you showed up in my life, I didn’t expect anything. I didn’t ask for a story like this. And yet, here we are—pages written in chaos, in longing, in love that shouldn’t exist... but somehow does."

She paused to steady her breath.

"I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I don’t know what the truth of our story will look like when everything comes out. But today, I choose to be here with you. I choose to give you this moment. And if this is the only day we ever get to be this—bride and groom, man and woman, lovers without fear—then I will carry it with me for the rest of my life."

Gasps and sniffles echoed from behind them. Ellie wiped her eyes. Eve hugged Grace, both girls trembling with emotion.

Judge Thompson nodded with great solemnity.

"Then with these words, this bond, and these two hearts brave enough to love even in the midst of pain... I declare you, by spirit and soul, husband and wife—for today, and however long this moment chooses to last."

Cammy and Greg stood still, forehead to forehead, neither of them moving.

Then, in a whisper meant only for her, Greg murmured, "May I kiss my bride?"

Cammy, eyes full of tears and surrender, whispered back, "Yes. Please."

Their lips met—slow, tender, aching.

A kiss not of forever, but of now.

And in that kiss was everything: desperation, devotion, hope... and the silent fear of goodbye.

The sea cheered. The sky held its breath.

And the world, for just a moment, let them be.