“Sometimes the best things in life require us to be brave enough to take risks. Even when we’re terrified of the outcome.”
I pull away from her embrace and stand up, looking at myself in the mirror one more time. Tomorrow, this dress will be photographed dozens of times. The images will appear in magazines and social media posts, evidence of Ben Lawlor’s romantic wedding to his childhood sweetheart.
No one looking at those photos will know that the bride’s heart is breaking.
“Help me out of this dress,” I say to Bella. “I need to go home and get some sleep before tomorrow.”
“Freya—”
“Please. I’ve made my decision. I’m going through with this wedding, and then I’m going to figure out how to live with the consequences.”
As she helps me out of the dress, I catch one last glimpse of myself in the mirror. For just a moment, I allow myself to imagine what it would feel like if this were real. If Ben were marrying me because he loved me, not because I’m useful to his business. If the vows we exchange tomorrow were promises we both meant to keep.
But that’s a fantasy, and I’ve spent too much time already living in fantasies about him.
Tomorrow, I’ll marry my best friend in front of everyone we know, and it will be the most beautiful lie ever told.
CHAPTER 23
BEN
The pool catches the golden hour’s rays, sending the light dancing across the deck. Sitting in an Adirondack chair, I stare at the blank paper in front of me.
Vows… Vows…
Okay, I can do this. I can write my vows for tomorrow.
Or I could call Anthony up and ask him to hire a writer last minute to do it for me.
Shaking my head, I pinch the bridge of my nose. No. I can’t do that. Freya deserves better than that. She deserves the world.
Which is why this whole thing is so stupid. I should be writing from my heart, and yet I can’t bring myself to do it, because that would mean exposing myself completely—something I’ve never done.
The right vows would express love. Devotion. Adoration. Admiration.
All of it would be true, and yet getting up in front of everyone and saying these things to Freya, with her thinking I’m only playing a character, feels so wrong.
I take a deep breath and force myself to put pen to paper.
Freya,
Years ago, you walked into my elementary school classroom, shared your crustless peanut butter and jelly with me, and changed my day for the better. You’ve been changing my whole life ever since.
I pause, surprised by how easily the words came. Maybe this won’t be as difficult as I thought.
You taught me that there’s more to life than goals and achievements. You showed me what it means to be truly seen by another person. You’ve been my anchor, my compass, my best friend, and the person who makes me want to be better than I am.
The words flow faster now, like a dam has broken somewhere inside me.
I love the way you scrunch your nose when you’re concentrating on something difficult. I love how you still get paint under your fingernails even when you’re not working on anything. I love that you remember everyone’s birthdays and send handwritten cards. I love how you can make anyone feel like the most interesting person in the room just by really listening to them.
I love that you’re brave enough to pursue your dreams when most people could never bring themselves to. I love that you called me out when I was being an ass as a teenager, and youstill call me out when I’m being an ass now. I love that you’ve never been impressed by my money or my success. You love me for who I am, not what I’ve accomplished. Yet at the same time, you’re still proud of everything I’ve done.
Wait.
I stop writing and read a particular line again.
You love me for who I am.
