“Itisso shitty.” Elizabeth smiles at me, and then promptly launches into wedding logistics, jumping from detail to detail like a butterfly on crack, and I do my best to follow her, letting the momentum of the day sweep me along.
“Can you fix this?” She turns to me, the veil setting crooked on her head. “It looks fucking atrocious right now.”
I let out a laugh and grab the step stool to make myself tall enough to have the right angle. “Here. Let me help.”
As I pin her veil, I try to work through what Wes said in the car. Maybe itisjust me who doesn’t see what I’m actually doing wrong. Maybe I am too sensitive, too much, too…something.
But maybe if I keep trying, eventually I’ll find a space where I fit. Or maybe things will just get worse.
I guess we’ll just have to see.
Chapter 2
Maddy
Ican’t stop staring at Elizabeth’s hands in Lance’s, with tears pouring down her face. The light from the stained-glass windows paint the inside of the church in crazy shades of blue, orange, and red. The colors streak across Elizabeth’s wedding dress and make her look like she’s burning alive.
Yikes. Burning to death on your wedding day would suck.
I frown at my thoughts for a moment, and then rip my eyes away, glancing over to my best friend beside me. Riley stands still, her hands clasped around her little bouquet, chin lifted, and eyes pointed toward the happy couple as if she’s entranced by this whole thing.
Itisa beautiful ceremony.
I mean, I guess it is. The words sound nice, and the music is fine. Elizabeth glows—literally—and Lance is beaming like he won the lottery.
I chew the inside of my cheek and force myself to focus. I’m supposed to be present and supportive.
My gaze drifts sideways anyway, toward Wes, who is standing at the very end of the groomsmen row, just visible past two other men. His hair is gelled back, and he’s not looking at the couple at the altar.
He’s looking at me.
Well… not at me, exactly. More at my legs, which are currently vibrating with nerves.Ugh.
He mouths “relax” and does this exaggerated breathing gesture, which sends heat crawling up my neck as his breath is audible from where I stand.
I glare at him, but he just smiles and turns his attention back to the couple.
The priest finally asks for the rings, which means it’s almost over.
And closer to the time I have to ask Wes if I can live with him because I’m about to be poor.
The music swells, breaking my thoughts and kickstarting a whole new one. In some parallel universe, I’m the one in a lace dress, gliding up the aisle. I’m not worried about rent or jobs or whether my boyfriend will think less of me if I ask him for a sliver of stability. In that universe, I have beautiful hair and strong opinions about seating arrangements.
Maybe someday I’ll have that luxury.
“Maddy?” There’s a tap on my arm. I turn, nearly dropping the bouquet onto the floor, and see Riley looking at me with concern written all over her face. She leans in, her whisper so precise that only I can hear it over the crescendo of the violinist Lance insisted they hire. “You doing okay? You look like you might pass out.”
I nod. “I’m good.”
She raises an eyebrow. “It’s going to be fine. You gonna talk to him at the reception? I mean, once you get it off your chest, you’ll feel so much better.”
“I’ll try,” I murmur, my throat feeling like I swallowed a bucket of sand.
Riley bumps my hip with hers, grinning at me. “It’s the perfect time. Everyone’s all mushy and in love. He’ll say yes,and then we can celebrate with more wine than is medically advisable. I think Wes might just need a push…”
My heart pounds as I contemplate Wes’s reaction—probably cool, calm, collected, and a big fatno.
“It’ll all be fine,” Riley says, getting the last whisper out as the officiant announces the married couple.
