Page 3 of Wedding or Not

Wes is still back in the office, probably making excuses for the way I abruptly walked out and bringing the meeting to a professional close.

But I had to leave. It was either that or burst into tears right there.

My back is to the chairs in the waiting area as I breathe slowly and try to repress my swell of despair.

I wore a little white cardigan that was knit by hand by my Aunt Grace over my dress because it’s always cool in office buildings. It has slid partway off my shoulders, but I’m too upset to even pull it up again.

When someone else gently draws it back up to my shoulders, I gasp in surprise and whirl around.

Wes.

Of course.

“We knew it was a long shot.”

“Maybe, but I was still hoping he would agree.”

“I was too.”

Peering at his ever-composed face, I catch a slight glimpse of something in his eyes.

Maybe he means it.

Maybe he’s disappointed too.

It’s enough to soften the clench in my chest so I can take a full breath. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“That’s not a helpful statement.”

“It’s all I’ve got right now, but we’ll make a plan and we’ll get through it, just like we’ve been doing the past six years.”

Six years ago.

That’s when I ruined everything.

Eight years ago, I was beginning my last year in college—muddling through since I’ve never cared for school—when my parents both died in a boating accident.

Back then, Blossom Park was thriving. We had two or three weddings scheduled every weekend, other events throughout the weeks, and a steady stream of visitors to the gardens. But the loss of our parents was such a blow that I quit college and came home to help. The twins were only five then, and little Tessa was three. Aunt Grace moved in as their legal guardian, but between the business and the family, it was too much for one person.

She needed help.

Audrey was also in college, but she’s the smartest of us all, and education was much more important to her. Natalie was only sixteen.

The only sister left to help was me.

I’m the oldest. I’m responsible, and everyone was relying on me.

So I came home, helped all I could with my younger sisters, and took care of the day-to-day running of the business. I have no skill with money, but even when he was living in DC, Wes was willing to do the accounting. Aunt Grace filled in the gaps, and Wes’s dad, Jake, managed the grounds as he’s been doing for decades.

We kept things going. Even thrived. So much so that I had the idea to open a real coffee shop on the grounds to encourage more local visitors.

I still believe it was a good idea. A reasonable one and a natural next step in growing Blossom Park. Yes, we had to take out a large loan to cover the up-front expenses since the staff we’d have to hire to run the coffee shop would eat into our regular monthly earnings.

But it should have paid off quickly. Every night, I make a case for my decision, playing it out over and over again in my mind.

I couldn’t help that the pandemic hit two months later, canceling all the scheduled events, killing all plans for the coffee shop, gutting our business for almost a year.