Page 28 of Wedding Wrecker

I give her a sour expression and whisper, “very funny. Now you.”

She puts away her phone, and throws her heels to the grass first, but then she’s climbing to the outside of the balcony like a cat stepping on an unfamiliar texture. Now I wish I was filming her, because it’s pretty hilarious.

She eventually jumps straight onto me.

I clasp my hands on her waist, but my body has to absorb most of the force of her fall. She inhales when we stumble, but I manage to take a quick step back and keep us from descending into the grass.

We both relax at the same time before going rigid when someone claps.

“Love is in the air,” calls out an older lady with white hair, whom I’ve never seen in my life, so we both just give her an awkward wave.

Kayla picks up her heels. “You took the photos, right? What now?”

I nod grimly. “Leave it to me. I know what to do.”

Chapter 11

Kyle

Hot water drizzles down my body as I lean against the wall of the shower, wondering what would happen if I just stayed like this until the moment of the wedding. Madison couldn’t possibly handle the humiliation of being jilted at the altar, and she’d drop me like a hot potato. Everyone would be embarrassed, and the whole county would talk about this for months to come, but at least I’d have no way back.

I’d be free again.

I flinch when someone knocks at my door, and it doesn’t help when my mother speaks from the other side. “You’re wasting water.”

I rub my forehead against the tile. “We’re not the ones paying for extra water.”

“Waste is waste. Come out.”

She leaves me be for now, but I know the peace and quiet can’t last long. It’s time to face reality. Since leaving this moment of peaceful solitude might be close to impossible without a nudge, I turn the temperature handle. The warm droplets turn to ice, and moments later, my body is shaking as I struggle to catch my breath.

I better be ready for anything today.

I shudder while wiping my numb body with a white towel, before tying it around my waist and entering my bedroom. There’s a mirror on the wall, but I’m afraid to face myself right now.

My mother gets up from the bed, putting down her book. She’s wearing a simple purple dress, and her graying hair has been refreshed with a coat of brown similar to its former natural shade. She’s even wearing a bit of makeup, though her pronounced wrinkles and a complexion darkened from working outside reveal the real woman hidden under finery she rarely allows herself.

Mom has had a hard life, raising three children on her own and keeping the family business prosperous. For a woman with baggage this heavy, the uncertainty I feel about my own sexuality and getting married are just wrinkles in need of smoothing out. So I stay still as she watches me in silence.

“You need to dry your hair before you put on the suit,” she says in the end, folding her arms.

I exhale, itching to tell her off for always reminding me of the obvious, as if I’m a child in need of constant guidance. But instead, I nod, because she always means well, regardless of how much her behavior irritates me.

She sighs before approaching the tobacco brown suit hanging from a hook on the wall. “You really should have taken me shopping. What if someone sees it on you and thinks of dirt, or worse, diarrhea?”

I’m speechless, but this isn’t the time to argue. And it’s not like responding to her criticism with my honest thoughts has ever worked in my favor. “I like it.”

“Cream would have been a much better choice,” she continues as if she hasn’t heard me, “Your dad wore cream on our wedding day. He looked so dashing,” she finishes with a soft exhale.

Unlike me in my wedding suit, apparently.

“Madison wanted this color. She said it softened the look.” Whatever that meant, because I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

Mom sighs. “I suppose it’s her day, her choice. If the suit fits well, no one should be complaining.”

She doesn’t even notice she’s suggested it’s not my day, but that has been obvious to me since the wedding preparations started. Early on, Madison even agreed to making Jekyll a part of the ceremony, but two months ago, when I tried to work out a plan for that, in order to train my dog, Madison told me it was tacky to have a dog as the ringbearer, and that was that.

It didn’t seem important at the time, but now that Jekyll was at my friend’s to “not interfere with the celebration”, I was regretting my choice to give in.