Harrison, lounging on Maria’s other side, tips his sunglasses down his nose to glance at me. “Remington is one lucky bastard.”
I roll my eyes, but Rhett’s hand finds mine, squeezing lightly. My pulse jumps at the gesture.
Then Vanessa arrives.
My breath catches as I take her in. She’s wearing a sleek navy gown, and her hair is pinned up with a few soft waves around her face. Her make-up is flawless. But she’s not alone. A tall, handsome man in a dove-grey suit escorts her, his hand steady at the small of her back. She’s radiant, laughing at something he whispers, leaning into him like she’s known him forever.
My heart gives a little leap. The ruse worked. Vanessa has moved on. She’s here with someone new, her gaze sliding over Rhett and me without even a flicker of longing. Relief should flood me. This is exactly what we wanted, isn’t it? But a sudden, unexpected, and uninvited sadness tugs at me. If Vanessa has moved on, and George wants me back, then we have successfully reached our end goal. The game is over. I don’t want to go back to George, but what does that mean for Rhett and me once this wedding charade is over?
I force a smile as she and her date settle a few rows ahead of us. Maria leans over, whispering.
“Wow, Vanessa sure picked well?”
“Yeah,” I manage, clutching my gold purse tighter. “He looks like a good one.”
I am saved from any more debate about Vanessa’s date when the music swells over us. Elliot and his groomsmen have gotten into formation at the front near the arch, and the officiant is also standing there now.
The guests go quiet, turning as a hush sweeps the crowd. I glance towards the back of the room just as Camile Chambers steps into view. She is breathtaking in a gown of ivory lace, the skirt flowing like water behind her. A long veil drifts over her shoulders, and her bouquet is a cloud of white roses. She looks radiant, serene, as if she actually belongs and lives inthis dreamscape. Beside her, a man who I assume is her father, beams with pride, his arm linked through hers.
My throat tightens unexpectedly. Weddings always do this to me, even before Rhett, before I fell head over heels for him. There’s just something about the promise in the air, the way two people look at each other like nothing else matters. I glance at Rhett, wondering if he feels it too, but like everyone else, his gaze is turned to the bride, his expression neutral.
Camile walks down the aisle slowly, each step measured, as the quartet swells into Pachelbel’s Canon. Elliot Hawthorn waits at the altar, handsome in his black tuxedo, his face breaking into a smile so wide it seems to split him open when he sees her. The love in it is unmistakable, raw, and real.
My chest aches.
Camile reaches the front and goes to stand beside Elliot, her bridesmaids behind her. Her father takes a seat in the front row, and the ceremony begins.
The officiant, solemn in his robe, speaks of love and unity, of family and legacy. Around me, guests dab at their eyes discreetly with silk handkerchiefs. The sun dips lower, gilding the ocean in the background, the whole scene bathed in molten gold, made brighter.
Camile and Elliot exchange their vows, her voice trembling with emotion. He promises to protect and cherish her, and to stand by her always. She promises laughter, patience, and unwavering devotion. Their hands clasp tight, their knuckles white, like letting go isn’t an option. When Elliot slips the ring onto Camile’s finger, a band of diamonds that seems to ignite in the sunlight, the crowd sighs collectively, a sound like a light summer wind in the trees.
I feel Rhett’s thumb brushing circles against my palm. I glance down. At some point, without realizing it, I’d linked my fingers through his. Heat blooms in my chest, dangerous andsweet. This isn’t supposed to be real. But in this moment, with vows hanging in the air and his hand holding mine, I can’t convince myself it’s just pretend.
The priest declares them husband and wife. Camile and Elliot kiss, and the crowd erupts into applause. Flower petals rain down from somewhere unseen, and drift like snow as they turn to walk back down the aisle. Camile is crying joyful tears.
I clap with everyone else, forcing brightness into my smile. But inside, something is shifting. Watching them, I realize I want something like this too. Not the diamonds or the grandeur, but the way Elliot looks at Camile like she is the only woman in the world for him. His expression is full of certainty and devotion. And suddenly, the ache in my chest sharpens, because for the first time, I let myself admit it: I don’t want this thing with Rhett to end.
As the newlyweds disappear into the sea of congratulations, the ushers begin guiding all the guests back out of the house and towards the reception tent. All around me, voices rise, and laughter bubbles. The air is electric with celebration. Rhett stands up, tugging me gently to my feet. Our eyes meet, and for a fleeting second, it feels like the vows weren’t just for Elliot and Camile, but for us too, serving as a reminder, a warning, a wish.
We walk together out of the ceremony space, hand in hand, into the twilight glow, toward the reception that promises to be as dazzling as everything else tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Pippa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hphwfq1wLJs
-da ya think I’m sexy-
The reception tent glows like a jewel against the twilight sky. From the outside, it looks like an enormous lantern, the cream fabric walls lit from within by a thousand golden lights. Inside, it’s even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hang low, scattering rainbows across the tables that are dressed in white linen and adorned with ivory roses. Every surface gleams. The silverware is polished to a mirror shine, and the glassware catches the flickers of candlelight. There are bottles of champagne chilling in gleaming silver buckets beside every table. The murmur of voices blends with the strains of a different string quartet, building an atmosphere so opulent it feels unreal.
Rhett leads me to our table, where Max, Maria, and Harrison are already waiting for us. They’re halfway through their first glasses of champagne, laughing at some inside joke. Maria spots me first and waves me over with a grin.
“Pippa, darling, come, sit with us. You’re missing all the fun.”
Max lifts his glass in greeting. “About time. I was worried Remington had whisked you off somewhere scandalous.”
Rhett smirks as he pulls out my chair. “Give it time.”
