It's About Time (Blossom Peak #4)(16)
I’m fairly certain hives are breaking out beneath my tux, but I resist the urge to scratch every inch of my skin as I stand behind Henley, Rhonan, and Fletcher, watching Fletcher try to hold it together while Laney says her vows to him.
It’s been eleven months since I was left at the altar, and I firmly believe the only reason I can stomach standing here today as I watch one of my best friends marry the love of his life is because of the progress I’ve made since that fateful day.
“Fletcher,” Laney starts as she dabs under her eyes with a tissue. “I have loved you since I was fifteen, and I can’t believe that I get to love you for the rest of our lives.”
You can hear sniffles ripple through the crowd of guests seated in the chairs that mocked me the second I saw them. The memory of looking out at them from the window in the groom’s suite almost a year ago sends my heart rate spiraling, but luckily, Dr. Harris has been helping me with breathing techniques to ward off panic attacks.
I’m not ready to admit it out loud, but seeing a therapist has helped me tremendously, and no one is more supportive of that than Fletcher. The fucker went and got all mature on me—tackled his demons, confronted his alcoholic father, and surrendered to the feelings he’s had for Laney for over a decade—and it made me realize that if I ever wanted to move past Tori’s betrayal, I should probably get some help too.
There’s another person who influenced that decision too, isn’t there, Elliot?
“You say that I’m your angel, but you are mine,” Laney continues. “You’ve watched over me and loved me for so long that there’s no possible way we don’t belong together in this life and the next. I can’t wait to grow old with you, have babies with you, and show you what true love really is—because that’s what you’ve shown me. I love you, Fletcher Jared Adams, and I can’t believe that I finally get to be your wife.”
My eyes find Rhonan holding back his own emotions as his little sister marries one-fourth of our friend group, and then I shift my gaze toward Dilynne standing behind Laney, fighting to keep her composure, wiping away tears under her eyes as well.
A year ago, I didn’t think the woman even had tear ducts. She has surprised me in more than a dozen ways over the past year, so I’m starting to realize there’s a lot of shit I don’t know about her—stuff I shouldn’t find myself wanting to know.
“ Laney,” Fletcher starts, clearing his throat and pulling me back to the moment. “Shit, I’m sorry. You’re making me cry, angel, and I told you not to,” Fletcher explains. Everyone lets out a laugh, but Laney sticks her tongue at her future husband. Once the laughter has died down, he finds his footing again. “You know better than anyone how you saved me when I didn’t think life would ever be kind. Your strength, your kindness, your love—it’s everything I need. As long as I have you by my side, I know that we’re golden. You have me—mind, body, and soul. I am yours, always have been, and always will be. I can’t wait to watch you sign your name as Laney Adams. It’s been a long time coming, and today is the start of our forever.”
There is not a dry eye in the audience, including myself.
Even though my attempt at marriage ended in shambles, I can appreciate the fact that these two people—part of my extended family, in every sense of the word—have found each other and will make it through everything that life throws at them.
Once the officiant announces them as husband and wife, Fletcher kisses Laney in a way that makes me think they’re not going to be able to wait until after the reception to strip each other naked, and then my eyes land on Dilynne across the aisle once more.
She hands Laney her bouquet, fans out the back of her dress, and watches her walk down the aisle before Rhonan reaches out for her arm.
“They’re officially married, Rhonan. Nothing you can do about Fletcher and Laney shacking up now.”
Rhonan huffs out a laugh as Dilynne threads her arm through his. “Yes, I’m aware, Dilynne. Thank you for the reminder.”
Their conversation fades as Henley grabs Ellis’s hand—Rhonan’s daughter and the flower girl—and leads her back down the aisle.
Which leaves me walking by myself.
But hell, that’s the way I prefer it and will gladly be the way I’ll keep it for probably the rest of my life—because not everyone gets a happily ever after.
***
I barely lift my glass of whiskey to my lips before Dilynne’s voice startles me from the left. “How are you holding up?”
I shift my eyes to her for a split second, then focus back on the crowd on the dance floor as my pulse climbs. “I’m fine.”
“Make it more believable next time.”
I huff out a laugh. “Fuck you, Dilynne.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, no thank you. I prefer to tango with men that know where the clitoris is.”
Normally, I’d say something equally demeaning to her, but I’m lacking inspiration at this moment. Watching Fletcher and Laney hold each other and laugh as they move across the dance floor is stirring up unpleasant feelings I thought I’d moved past.
“Leave me alone, Dilynne,” I mutter instead, avoiding her eyes so she can get the hint that I’m eager to enjoy my isolation. And not just because the last thing I want to do is talk to anyone right now, but because the last person I need to be talking to is Dilynne.