Page 63 of Wedding or Not

Then I clear my throat and tell her, “Thank you for checking. I mean it. But I’m doing this freely and not out of guilt. And everything connected to this wedding is miraculous for Blossom Park. I want to ride the wave for as long as it lasts. I want to marry Wes. I like him. I really… like him.”

She studies me in that covertly sharp way she has. Seeing everything there is to see inside me. Then her expression relaxes and she smiles. “Okay. I see. I believe you, and I won’t ask again. I feel like things might have happened more naturally without the intrusion of this circus, but who’s to say this isn’t the right thing?”

I frown. “What things would happen naturally?”

“Don’t be coy. You know what I’m talking about.”

I do. She’s talking about me and Wes. “It’s not like⁠—”

I cut off my own words because maybe they’re wrong. Maybe it is exactly like that.

Maybe this wild, unnatural wedding scheme is what’s going to bring us together.

And, despite all the emotional games I’ve been playing with myself, maybe that’s exactly what I want.

Grace helps me on with my dress, and my image in the mirror might have been transported directly from my best daydreams.

I’ve always known I have a pretty face, and I’m used to seeing it smiling back at me in mirrors, but I never imagined I could look like this.

“Beautiful,” Grace says, smoothing down the flounces although they’re already hanging perfectly. “And you still look like you and not like you’re playing dress-up. You’re comfortable in the dress?”

“Yes. It’s a little more fitted in the bodice than I’m used to, but the skirt is easy and there’s no train, so I don’t even feel like I’m a huge production.”

She chuckles at my choice of words. “Good. I’ve always thought if I would’ve gotten married, I’d want to go in the same direction. So I could move without fearing catastrophe.”

“Why didn’t you ever get married?” I ask, genuinely curious. She’s been single my whole life. I’ve never even known her to have a boyfriend, although I assume she must have dated some while she lived in Europe.

She shrugged. “I think because I’ve been happy my whole life. Every day, I feel like I’m doing exactly what I want to do and making the choices I want to make. I’ve never met a man who was worth risking that for.”

I smile at her. Then I lean over to give her the same careful hug Natalie gave me. “Thank you for choosing to be here for us.”

“It’s been the best choice of my life. Honestly. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

I believe her, and I love her even more for it.

“Okay,” she says. “Any more emotion and our hair and dresses will pay the price. It’s time to go down.”

My sisters are waiting in the entry hall of the original colonial mansion, which is where the reception is being set up. They’re all dressed and smiling and beautiful in their pink dresses with gorgeously rounded bouquets of pink peonies tied off with simple ribbons.

My bouquet is white roses.

Since the ceremony is in the English garden and it’s not far from the cottages, we’re planning to walk over instead of driving.

Natalie floated getting a horse-drawn carriage, but I nixed that idea pretty quick.

No hoopla, as Jake would call it.

Nothing to make me more nervous than I already am.

The wedding is a small one with only a few dozen of our closest family and friends. A local string quartet is providing music, and the pastor from the church both our families have always attended is officiating. There will be a lot of professionals on the periphery. Influencers and photographers and representatives of the businesses we partnered with, but I’m hoping I can avoid focusing on them too much.

The primary feature of the wedding will be the beauty of the garden, and that’s where I want most of the attention.

I’m half excited and half terrified as Grace lines up my sisters and makes sure Tessa is holding her bouquet the right way. It’s not quite time to start walking, but I want to get going anyway.

Whether I want to get married or just want to get the whole thing over with, I’m not sure.

I’m standing near the staircase when I hear a familiar male voice.