My makeup is perfection, my hair pulled into a sleek, low ponytail. Giant diamonds from the Lancaster vault glitter in my ears, and my engagement ring is heavy on my finger, reminding me of what’s about to take place.
“Thank you,” I repeat as I glance around the room. There are tables and chairs already set up for tomorrow’s reception, and quite a few hotel employees are buzzing around, still working. “Looks like things are coming together.”
“Yes, they’ve been hard at work all afternoon, and will continue to work through tomorrow,” Miranda says, turning to watch them. “I know you’re going to be so pleased with how everything turns out. I’m so excited.”
“Me too,” I say faintly, not sounding excited at all. There’s so much being done, and a tremendous amount of money being spent on this wedding.
“Let’s go outside to the gardens where the ceremony is being held.” Miranda frowns, though her face doesn’t move at all. She must use Botox. “Where’s your fiancé?”
“He’s meeting us here. He should arrive soon,” I answer.
“Text him. Find out where he’s at.”
Miranda watches me expectantly, and I have no choice but to pull my phone out and send my beloved a quick text.
Me: Are you almost here?
He answers immediately, thank God.
Perry: Who is this?
We’ve never really texted before, even though we shared our numbers with each other. I should’ve expected this response. I bet he didn’t put my name with my number.
Turning so my back is to Miranda and she can’t see our messages, I hurriedly type out a reply.
Me: It’s your fiancée. I’m at the hotel. Miranda the wedding planner is eager to get things started.
Perry: Oh.
That’s all he says. Oh.
I could throttle him.
Perry: I’m on my way. Traffic is shit.
Irritated, I tap out my reply.
Me: How long until you arrive?
Perry: IDK. 30 min?
Taking a deep breath, I exhale loudly before I turn to face Miranda once more. “My fiancé is going to be late. Traffic is unexpectedly busy.”
“Oh dear. I wish he would’ve left sooner.” Miranda taps her index finger against her pursed lips. “Let’s go ahead and go to the gardens. I’ll make sure everyone in the ceremony will be routed out there. Where’s your maid of honor?”
“She’ll be here soon.” We realized at my dress fitting that I needed at least one person to stand up for me during the ceremony. Since I have no sisters and I’m not particularly close to anyone, Tinsley said she’d be my maid of honor.
Winston is Perry’s best man, and his brother Keaton is a groomsman. The ceremony itself is on the smaller side. We have a small party and only invited a select few to keep it intimate, is how my mother described it.
More exclusive, is what Caroline said.
It was just easier, keeping it small. The less people in attendance, the less questions are asked. And those who are going to the ceremony aren’t asking many questions at all. From what I understand, they all had to sign an NDA in order to attend.
The reception is an entirely different thing. Both families have invited so many people, I’m surprised it’s not being held in two ballrooms. Last I heard, approximately five hundred have RSVP’d. And more will most likely randomly show up.
Unbelievable.
Miranda walks with me to the gardens, and when we enter the space where I’m to be married tomorrow, I suck in a quick breath.
It’s beautiful. Green, lush grass surrounded by thick green bushes dotted with tiny white blooms. A sturdy wooden arbor wrapped with gauzy white fabric. The delicate white chairs are already set up, the aisle down the center of them leading to the spot where we’ll be married.
“Flowers will cover the entire arbor,” Miranda explains, gesturing with her hands where the flowers will go. “And each seat by the aisle will have a swag of flowers next to it as well. Ah, and the colors. Such rich, fall hues!”
Sometimes I think Miranda talks like she’s reading a caption online.
“It’s going to be absolutely stunning,” she continues, caught up in her own vision. “And the flowers at the reception as well—oh that’s my favorite part.”
“What is?”
“The flowers. So many of them. Your mother threw out the budget and said cost didn’t matter. So I went for it.” Miranda clutches her hands together. “I hope you’ll be pleased.”
“I’m sure I will.”
Family members begin to show up, but no Perry yet. Caroline arrives with Tinsley, and my maid of honor wraps me up in a big hug.
“You look gorgeous,” she says.
“So do you,” I tell her as I withdraw from her embrace. “I love your dress.”
It’s emerald-green silk and dips low in the front. Elegant yet sexy.
“Mother said it was a good choice. The color of money.” She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s all she thinks about.”
All my father thinks about, too.
My parents appear right after a herd of Constantines, and soon the garden is overflowing with people standing in small clusters, talking amongst themselves. Tinsley introduces me to her husband, Magnus, who appears a bit older than her.
Hmm. Reminds me of my past.
But he’s madly in love with her, I can tell, and witnessing the way he watches her while she speaks to me makes my heart twist with an unfamiliar emotion.
I’m fairly certain it’s envy.
“Text him again, please,” Miranda requests when we’re thirty minutes past start time and Perry still hasn’t shown. “If we don’t get started soon, we’ll have to use one of your brothers as a standin.”
Please, no. They’ll gloat and give me endless grief, calling my fiancé a no-show and he most likely ditched me.
That particular fear is like a knot in my stomach, tightening with every minute that passes and Perry still isn’t here.
Winston arrives with his wife by his side and I go to them, forgetting all about my earlier resentment toward this man.
“Have you spoken to Perry?” Oh, I hate how small my voice is, and how scared I sound.
Winston frowns. “He’s not here?”
I shake my head, my throat too dry to speak.
“He left the office a few minutes before I did.” His brows draw together as he studies me. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” I feel helpless. At a loss.
Where could he be?
Winston whips his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call him.”
I can hear the phone ring. I swear the nearby conversations immediately grow quieter, as if they can hear the ringing too. Do they sense the tension radiating from me? My heart threatens to pop right out of my chest at having an audience to this.
The automated voice starts talking and Winston ends the call, his expression grim. “He didn’t answer.”
My heart sinks at the familiar, horrible feeling. Why does this always happen to me? What do I keep doing wrong?
Rejected by yet another man. The list keeps growing. My father. My brothers.
Seamus never telling me about his girlfriend. Once she popped up, it was over between us. He never really spoke to me again. And I ran away before he could get the chance. Sometimes I look back at that time of my life and wonder if it actually happened. Did he actually exist?