“If it were up to me, there would be no fancy dinner or long ceremony,” she said, looking straight ahead. “There would be no over-the-top table settings, no talking to women I haven’t spoken with in years and asking them to be a bridesmaid just to match the number of friends he has for groomsmen. No guest list of people I’ve never met before. There would only be him and me, in the mountains during a sunset like this one. Maybe a small party the next day or week after we’d had time to enjoy our new life, just to celebrate with family and friends. Nothing fancy. Nothing stressful. Just simply us.”
Something about what she said prompted that nagging in the back of my mind again. It was that same feeling like when there’s a word on the tip of your tongue, but you just can’t think of it.
“What’s stopping you?” I asked.
“Expectations,” she answered. “Tyler has so many people looking at him because of who he is and his father. He’s expected to have this extravagant party. And then there’s my family who is so caught up in those expectations that they are being more and more vocal about adding things and creating something excessive and completely unreasonable.”
She stopped walking and shook her head, an embarrassed smile on her pink lips. “I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m unloading all of this on you. I don’t even know why.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know as well,” I said.
“Maybe,” she agreed, beginning to walk again. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Keep talking, baby,” I said. “We have another mile before we reach the bar I wanted to take you to.”
“The brewery you’ve been talking about?”
I nodded. “It’s just around that corner. You have until then to spill all the details.”
“And when we get there?”
“When we get there, I’m buying you a few drinks, and you’re going to kick my ass at ski ball.”
The smile I’d come to love so much spread across her face and lit up her eyes. “I’d like that.”
“I thought you might,” I said, my mouth dry at the sight of her looking at me like that. “Tell me where you’re getting married so I can crash it,” I managed.
She snickered under her breath and nudged me in the side. “It’s the Fairmont Del Mar, I think? I probably have the name wrong. It is gorgeous. I went with him to tour it, at least, though his parents had already booked the date and put down the deposit.”
“You didn’t choose your own wedding date?” I asked, getting more confused by the second.
“It ended up being just what the venue had available,” she answered. “His parents were tired of waiting on us to pick a date, so they surprised us with the venue and date.”
“Sorry, what?”
She looked like she might laugh. “I know. It’s insane.”
“So, none of this. Not the venue, the dress, the decor, even the date… none of this is your choice?”
She looked out at the ocean and then back to me. “Nope.“
Fuck, I wanted to sweep her up into my arms and run away so she could have something she truly cared about.
“Where do youactuallywant to get married?”
“If it were my choice, Greece,” she said without hesitation. “But when I was asked where I wanted, for some reason saying Greece didn’t feel right. I couldn’t envision him standing at my side with the mountains around us.”
I was on the verge of wringing her neck and telling her to wake up, that she couldn’t pick a date because he wasn’t who she should be with.
Greece…
She wanted to get married in fucking Greece.
“For as long as I can remember,” she continued, “I’ve had dreams of standing atop a mountain in Greece, beautiful black lace dress, sunflower and poppy bouquet… I don’t know how I know it’s Greece, but I know that it is. And I know that the shadow standing before me is the person I feel in my dreams, too—“
Blood stopped circulating in my body. “What dreams?”
A quiet scoff left her as she threaded her hand through her hair and pushed it back. “It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud. But lately, I’ve had dreams where I wake up, flushed, my heart is pounding, and I feel almost giddy. For the past couple of weeks, there’s been a new segment to it. I’m in a completely dark room, all except for the light of a single candle. Every time I see that candle, something tells me not to pick it up. Not to turn it on the shadow behind me. But I do it. Again and again and again. And each time, I wake up before I can see whatever is there.”
