“Oh? I hope there are no clouds in lover’s paradise?”
“Well, you could say that…”
Her smile flickers. Just for a second. Then it’s gone.
Her posture straightens, her hands fold neatly on the desk, and the warmth drains from her expression like someone flicked a switch. The Celeste I know—charming, composed, always five steps ahead—pulls a mask of professionalism over her face so fast it’s almost impressive.It’s the kind of shift you only notice if you’re looking for it. And right now, I’m looking.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says, voice crisp. “Then we’ll have to make do without her. I just wanted to confirm a few last-minute details with you.”
I drop into the chair across from her and drag a hand through my hair. “I understand. But our situation has changed since we last spoke. I—” I clear my throat. “I need to call off the wedding.”
She goes completely still.
The silence is instant and sharp, like the air just changed temperature.
She studies me for a long moment. Then she leans back in her chair and folds her arms.
“I see.”
“Celeste—”
“Let me guess,” she says coolly. “You had a change of heart. Got cold feet.”
“She left,” I say, my voice quieter now. “Packed her stuff and disappeared. She’s not answering my calls. She won’t talk to me.”
“So go find her.”
“I don’t even know where sheis,” I admit. “And even if I did—I broke her heart. I pushed her away.”
Celeste is silent for a moment, fingers steepled now. Then she sighs and opens her planner again, flipping past pages of color-coded timelines, vendor contracts, menu plans, and seating charts.
“It’s a shame,” she murmurs.
“I know.”
“No,” she says, looking up. “Not about the wedding. Aboutyou.”
I blink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Celeste leans forward slightly, her voice calm but unflinching. “I’ve planned over two hundred weddings. I’ve seen couples in love and couples in it for all the wrong reasons. But you and Olive?” She tilts her head. “You were the real deal.”
“You don’t know what we were.”
One brow arches, sharp and knowing. “Oh, please. You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention? The way you brushed hands just to feel her skin?”
I swallow hard.
“You didn’t have tosayit,” she continues. “It was written all over both of you.”
I sit there, stunned, as her words settle like dust in my chest.
She softens just a little. “I’m not going to convince you to go through with it. But I’ll say this—real love doesn’t show up that often. And most people are too scared to hold onto it when it does.”
I drop my head into my hands, elbows on my knees. “I blew it.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Maybe not.”
She closes the planner and taps the cover with her nails.
