“None of that matters,” Libby says, reaching out and taking my hand into hers and giving it a squeeze. “Not when you're with the right man. This is honestly the happiest day of my life.”
I feel myself tearing up and blink quickly, trying not to ruin Winnie's handiwork. “I'm glad you're happy,” I say, giving her hand a squeeze back. “Truly.”
“Thank you, Emma. And I know you're going to be this happy one day in the not-too-distant future,” she says with a confident smile.
If only that were true…
* * *
“Will you, Harrison Theodore Banks, take Liberty Dawn Dewitt to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love her, honour her, remain faithful to her, and support her in her dreams for as long as you both shall live?” Fidel asks.
“I will,” Harrison says, holding both of Libby's hands in his and staring into her eyes.
Okay, now I'm just pathetic because tears are uncontrollably running down my cheeks as I watch the two of them together exchanging their vows and wish more than anything that our parents could be here in this moment for him.
Rosy, who's standing next to me, sniffs loudly and says, “Oh, this is just so beautiful.”
I take a moment to look around the restaurant and smile at everything that Harrison and the rest of the crew have managed to do. They've covered all the boarded windows with billowy white cloth and there are candles lit everywhere, giving the room a warm, romantic feel. A makeshift altar has been set up using a wooden archway from one of the gardens. It’s been covered with golden trumpet vines for the two of them to stand under. Eight-foot-tall potted palms have been moved into position with three on each side of the archway to create a focal point for the ceremony. Light linens cover all of the chairs that have been set up for the guests on this side of the room. The other side of the restaurant holds a horseshoe-shaped table for the twenty-four of us to share in our feast as soon as the ceremony is over, provided I don’t cock it all up.
Fidel grins at Libby and says, “You may now kiss the groom!”
I stand back while the rest of the party congratulates the happy newlyweds, and for some reason, I can't seem to stop crying.
“You all right?” Will says, bumping me on the arm.
I look up at him, surprised that he’s standing beside me and embarrassed for him to see me all emotional and girly. I give him a quick nod and clear my throat.
“I know. I'm missing Mum and Dad too, today,” he says, his face screwing up a little bit with sadness.
I sniffle, dabbing my wet cheeks with the backs of my hands. “It sucks so hard that they’re gone.”
“Agreed,” he says, shifting his gaze to the happy couple. “I think they would have loved Libby.”
“Me too.”
I loop my arm through Will’s and rest my head on his shoulder for a moment while we watch Harrison pop open a bottle of champagne. It hurts so much to wish for something you can never have. Every cell in my body aches to see my parents again, to hug them tightly and talk to them—Mum especially, because she would know what to do about all these feelings that I can't seem to ignore. She would know just what to say to help me forget about a certain famous author.
Every day I think about ringing him up under some lame pretense, or just hanging up once he answers just so I can hear his voice. But I don’t let myself. I can’t. I spent so much time pretending I was ‘Miss I Love Casual Sex’ that trying to reach out now would be an utter humiliation. It would mean he knows I’m actually ‘Miss I Want Forever,’ which was never part of the deal.
Taking a deep breath, I decide I have to just get on with it. Time to cook.
And that's when it happens—the room becomes suddenly quiet. The air conditioning shuts off at that same moment the emergency lighting turns on.
Oh perfect. Now I need to prepare a wedding feast in the dark.
* * *
Forty minutes later, I stand surveying the results of my work, wiping the sweat off my brow with a dish towel. I no longer look like a wedding guest, but a chef in Hell’s Kitchen. I’m in my uniform with a headlamp on that has totally ruined my hair. I’m so sweaty that I’m sure my makeup is down around my neck by now, but I couldn’t care less. I’m on the verge of pulling off an unforgettable meal—in the good sense of the word.
Junior and I bring out the appetizers, and before I go back to make the mains, I stand and watch as the guests take their first bites. I fight not to think about the expression on Pierce's face when he ate this exact meal on our last day together, but there’s no use. The smells, the textures, even the satisfied faces remind me of him.Forget him and enjoy this moment, Emma.
I glance over at Will, who has somehow ended up next to Penny (and I think we all know how). He gives me a desperate look while she tries to feed him some of the chicken satay off her fork. Poor Jorge is sitting on the other side of her, tapping on her arm to get her attention. When she ignores him, he starts kissing her bare shoulder loudly. Penny brushes him off with one hand and turns back to her new prospective conquest.
Darnell, who is digging into his fourth jerk pork spring roll, says, “Harrison, the girlcan cook. Why have you been hidin’ her out on some deserted island all this time?”
I grin to myself as I hurry back into the dimly-lit kitchen to plate up the main course. Junior is already getting started. He smiles at me when I return, blinding me for a second when his headlamp points directly into my eyes. “Emma, I tried the sauce for the lobster tails—complete perfection,” he says, putting his fingers to his lips and making a kissing motion.
“Thank you, Junior. That means a lot coming from you.” And it does.
