“You ready?” Chrissy asks, walking by my side.
I take a deep breath and nod. Not because I feel ready, but because there’s no other choice. I need to own up to my recent life choices.
Inside, we join the line to greet the newlyweds and drop an envelope into the ornate gold chest resting on the side table next to them. My heart tap-dances against my ribs with each step forward.
Mom hugs Lindsey and Andy first, her smile warm and genuine. She’s always been better at these social niceties than I have, knowing exactly what to say and how to say it.
Then it’s my turn.
I force a bright smile as Lindsey reluctantly pulls me into a hug.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, and I mean it. Her ivory gown fits like a dream, the lace sleeves delicate against her skin, and happiness in her eyes gives her a glow no cosmetics could ever duplicate.
“Thanks,” Lindsey says, smoothing her hand over the beaded bodice. “It was custom made.”
A moment of silence passes, and I know it’s now or never. My rehearsed congratulations evaporate like morning dew.
“Lindsey,” I say, both of us stepping to the side. “I owe you—”
She cuts me off, grasping my arm. “Are you okay? I saw what happened in L.A.”
For the first time in a long while, I find the courage to be honest. “I never had a boyfriend. The whole thing was a lie because I panicked seeing you at Granny Jo’s. I was still hurt and definitely not ready to face you.”
Lindsey takes my hands in hers, her wedding ring catching the light. “I don’t know if we can ever go back to the way we used to be,” she says, her voice breaking a little, “but I’m sorry, too. We liked each other and we were afraid to tell you.”
We hug, and it feels like stitching up an old wound that never quite healed right. When we pull back, we’re both laughing through tears like we should’ve done this long ago.
“No more crying,” Lindsey says, wiping under her eyes. “It’ll ruin our makeup.”
Laughing with her feels like breathing clean air after being underwater too long.
After the greetings, we settle into our seats. The hall is breathtaking: chandeliers dripping with crystal beads, tables adorned with ivory linens and towering arrangements of blush roses and hydrangeas, chairs wrapped in satin bows. The guests take their assigned seats, and it seems like everyone, and their grandmother was invited—probably because everyone’s grandmother actually was invited. Small towns operate like that.
The appetizer table stretches from wall to wall, Ashford Natural Foods’ signature three-tiered displays create edible art. Tiny cream puffs nestle beside prosciutto-wrapped melon, and chocolate-dipped strawberries form a perfect circle around a flowing chocolate fountain. Only the sponsors of Blitz Kitchen would manage to turn finger food into something made for cameras.
The newlyweds spared no expense, but why should they? It’s their once-in-a-lifetime day. The thought tugs at my heartstrings, but less than I expected.
When the guests settle in, and after I’ve sampled at least six tiny pastries in the name of emotional recovery, the DJ’s voice booms through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Andy Whitmore!”
We all rise, clapping and cheering as Andy and Lindsey make their entrance, smiling wide, hands clasped tightly together. Andy’s eyes never leave her face, and something inside me releases its grip. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. They look great together. I’m genuinely happy for them.
Dinner is a slow parade of deliciousness, with tiny cups of rich mushroom soup, fresh garden salads, and a main course that looks like a Southern feast of epic proportions—buttery mashed potatoes, crispy fried chicken, steaming dumplings, collard greens, and corn on the cob so sweet it could have been dessert. Reconciling with Lindsey brought back my appetite, and I eat more than I have in weeks.
The best man and maid of honor give their speeches, funny and heartfelt in turns, and then the dance floor is cleared for the newlyweds’ first dance. Chairs scrape back as everyone crowds around to watch.
The opening chords of “Amazed” by Lonestar float through the speakers, a perfect choice that makes all the aunties clutch their chests.
Andy and Lindsey sway together under the chandeliers, lost in each other. The way he looks at her, the way she smiles back—it’s everything I ever wanted.
And it’s everything I lost.
Like a dam bursting open, memories of Logan pour into my mind, and I look away from the dance floor as my eyes well with tears, wishing with all my heart that he was here with me. I don’t think I can stay here much longer, pretending I’m okay.
When the song ends and Andy and Lindsey take their seats at the main table, I rise from my chair, ready to slip away beforethe heartache becomes unbearable. One quick goodbye should do it, then I can cry in peace at home with a pint of ice cream and reality TV.
The DJ’s voice crackles to life once more. “Ladies and gentlemen, and now, we have a special surprise for the newlyweds.”
Mom tugs insistently on my dress to sit down. I guess I can wait a little while longer.
