The Art of Knowing [Completed]

38. • to celebrate •

"No, no. I can't eat right now. I'm too excited," the artist gushed with a wide grin. Any sort of excitement was enough to dissipate her appetite.

"Oh God, don't say that. It's Betsy! Are you trying to kill her?"

Cassandra returned a sheepish smile towards Jason's scowl. But it wasn't long before the young man chuckled along with her. She'd never grow tired of Betsy's impending concern over her eating habits throughout the entire evening. And, in truth, the artist was convinced that the minute it was all over, she'd have to devour all the food Betsy would offer in an effort to suppress her worries. Yet that was, after all, the motherly love and worry she would've gotten from her own mother if she were present— a love Cassandra was more than willing to welcome with open arms.

She scanned the premises and fixed her gaze upon the table adjacent to the one she was currently by. The following table held Emilia's sweet family— her husband, Daniel, along with her two gorgeous daughters who seemed to only get cuter by the second with the marvelous dresses their mother picked out for the occasion. Next to her sat Paola and Francisco, deep in conversation. Cassandra made a mental note to waltz over to them soon enough, but only after the official dance she would be a part of as Ryan's bride was finished.

The announcement commenced from the stage and all the artist could do was grin continuously as a choir of claps erupted for the awaited dance. She straightened her back to then find Ryan a few tables away, in a sea of relatives and friends before making his way over to the dance floor with his hand outstretched towards her. Jason's continuous whistles prompted her to shake her head as she walked towards the grand floor with continuous fits of laughter escaping her lips. Truth be told, the actual sensation of feeling like royalty was a foreign concept to her— that is, until that very moment. The flowers inhabiting the space where captivating, and the precious aquamarine cloths upon the tables warmed her heart. If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that she could never concoct such a perfect dream on her own. And as she placed her hand within Ryan's, the sight of her grinning husband fortified the idea that the night she was experiencing was nowhere near anything she could've ever imagined for herself. 

"I hope you know I can't dance," she uttered with a nervous chuckle.

"Well, this should be interesting. I can't either."

The couple exchanged soft smiles and laughter as they were brought together in an embrace. Ryan Eckhardt had always been convinced of Cassandra's beauty— the first encounter in the plane was just the beginning of that belief. And as they continued to get closer throughout the months, he'd finally given her some insight that perhaps the beauty of the artwork wasn't as stunning as the artist herself. It was a train of thought that made Cassandra blush no matter how many times he would repeat it and as he placed his hand on her waist, holding the other hand with infinite ease, he felt at a loss for words. He'd seen those same eyes sparkle due to the evident tears pooling within them, but this time, they glimmered in palpable happiness— a sight that was enough to flourish a weird warming sensation within his heart.

"Should I be happy or terrified that your parents are here," Cassandra muttered by Ryan's ear. She seemed to only intensify her grip on his shoulder as they danced whenever the abrupt sight of the Eckhardt's infiltrated her vision.

"Yes."

"Nope. Wrong. I should b— wait, yes as in both happy and terrified?" she asked incredulously with a quick look up at the young man. It wasn't long before she met with Ryan's subtle smirk. Cassandra sighed with a quick tilt of her head; nothing could ease up the ungodly mixture of nerves and excitement all in one night.