“If you would, please follow me. And do try not to dirty the carpets.” He turns to walk in the direction of the front door, and I check my boots, wondering if I stepped in some shit without knowing.
The house is huge. Like, enormous in ways I can’t even explain. If I thought it was large on the outside, it’s nothing compared to the inside. There’s a grand entrance, with a staircase that splits in two directions, probably leading to different wings of the house. Wings. Inside someone’shouse. It’s absolutely insane. Everything is elegant. Cleaned and sparkling and expensive.
Tuxedo guides me straight through while a handful of people hustle to get last-minute floral arrangements into place and fancy looking hors d’oeuvres on silver platters.
“Miss Julia is in the garden,” he tells me, taking me through the back doors and onto a large deck. “Please refrain from removing any more flowers.”
I salute, and he rolls his eyes.
Once he’s gone, it takes me about three seconds to spot Jules, and my anxiety melts away. She looks like sunshine in her pale yellow sundress. Her hair, longer than it was this past December, falls delicately down her shoulders in soft, golden waves. Even from this distance, she’s stunning.
She’s too engrossed in her phone to notice me, so I head down the stairs, straight for her, unable to stay away and wondering why I was so scared to in the first place. “So this house is something, huh?” I say when I get closer.
She looks up, and I can see her sigh of relief. “Alex. Thank God.” She wraps her arms around me before I can stop walking and pulls me in for a tight embrace.
I hang on until she pulls away, and when she does, I offer her the slightly crumpled rose.
She stares at it and slowly arches an eyebrow. “Is that one of Nancy’s roses?”
“Apparently so,” I admit. “Plucked it just for you.”
Her laughter causes my heart to expand. She carefully takes the flower and twirls the stem between her fingers. She brings it to her nose and gives me the softest look. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Me too,” I tell her. It surprises me that I actually mean it.
Noise from the deck grabs her attention. Her smile falters just a bit, and she takes my hand and tugs me forward. “Walk with me?” I glance at the woman who appears to be barking orders and allow myself to be led deeper within the perfectly manicured hedges. “How was your trip?” she asks once we’re out of sight, still holding my hand.
I slip my fingers through hers. “Long.”
Her smile is back as she takes me in. “You look good.”
“So do you. Glowing, even.” And that is, in fact, a complete understatement. She looks radiant. Stunning. Gorgeous.
But Jules must not agree if the groan that follows is any indication. “I think the word you’re looking for is stressed and exhausted.”
I’ve always heard that planning a wedding is stressful, and I remember how flustered my mom would get when it came down to making decisions. Surely, Jules isn’t at that stage yet, but I still don’t like hearing about the strain she’s clearly going through. “Can I help with anything?”
“No, it’s fine.” She squeezes my hand and stops walking. It’s then I notice the large fucking rock on her finger. It’s one thing to see it in pictures, another to get a glimpse up close.
It’s huge. A million carats in an oval setting, framed by much smaller diamonds around the perimeter and across the band. It’s nothing like the modest princess cut she used to plaster in her dream journals growing up. No, this looks out of place on her finger. Large and gaudy and exactly the opposite of what she wanted.
I frown. I want to say something, crack a joke about all the extra weight she’s carrying, but her expression shifts, and I don’t want to add to her stress, so for once, I keep my mouth shut.
“There’s a reason I asked you to come over a little early. I wanted to talk to you about something, but I didn’t want to do it over the phone. Or in front of anyone else.”
“Okay,” I say, stretching out the word.
She looks nervous. The way she fidgets makes me wonder if I’m about to hear some bombshell news. Like she’s pregnant and that’s why they’ve decided to get married so goddamn young. Instinct makes me look at her stomach. No. That can’t be it. Jules would’ve told me before now. Of course she would’ve. But she places her hand on her stomach, and I think about all the things wehaven’ttold each other lately, and I’m back to panicking.
After a deep breath, she reaches for her necklace. For the archer pendant she still wears and begins tracing it with her thumb. “First, thank you. For coming. For being here. I know it was expensive, and you had to take off work.”
“You asked me to come, so I came. Besides, getting engaged is kind of a big deal.” She nods, and I lick my lips. “Everything okay?”
“I wanted to ask you something.” I hold my breath and wait. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
My breath rushes out in a sigh of relief. Thank fucking God she’s not pregnant.
“Jules,” I say through a chuckle. But she still looks nervous, and I realize that even though this is nowhere near as dramatic as I made it to be in my head, she’s still waiting for a response. “I’d love to be your maid of honor.”
