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“Of course.” Sydney sets her cup down, and her face straightens. “There’s a reason why Drew got in touch with you for me.” She smiles, bites her bottom lip, then says, “We’re getting married.”

4

Alice

“You’re getting married?” There’s no hiding the shrill in my voice or the widening of my eyes. These are genuine, but not for the reason Sydney might think. I’m panicking because I’ve just invented an imaginary boyfriend who is most likely going to be added to her seating plan.

“Drew has been asking me to marry him for years, and I’ve always said no,” Sydney says, her shoulders dropping.

“No?” I don’t realise how loud I say this until the woman at the table in front of us looks around. I mouth, “Sorry,” to her and then focus on Sydney. I just can’t imagine why anyone would refuse a proposal to someone they’re in love with.

“I had to explain to him that it wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry him. It was the idea of a wedding and my parents being in the same room together, because they absolutely cannot be in the same room together,” Sydney tells me. “A few years ago, I had to have my gall bladder taken out, and my mum and dad came to visit me. But because I hadn’t arranged a strict schedule that involved them not being in the same building together at the same time, they bumped into each other and had to be escorted from the hospital by a security guard after my mum threw a cup of coffee over my dad.” Her face pales, and I feel so bad for her.

“She didn’t,” I gasp, but from what I remember of Sydney’s mum, Lois, she was a feisty thing who I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of. Though to be fair, if I’d come face to face with the man who’d cheated on me and destroyed my family and my happiness, then I might have done more than throw a cup of coffee in his face.

“She did, and I knew from then on there was no way Drew and I could ever get married. But then, a few weeks ago, the topic of getting married came up again, and he said we should just do it without our parents or any family members. I laughed because I couldn’t imagine a wedding without family. But Drew isn’t very close with his parents and doesn’t have any siblings, so, when I thought about it, the idea of having a friends-only wedding suddenly had great appeal. And I really want to marry him.”

Sydney looks at me, her eyes glowing just like they used to when we were kids and we’d plan our imaginary weddings.

“So, I took the plunge, and I proposed to him while we were in a small café near where we live, eating poached eggs on toast. Not the greatest of romance stories, but Drew said he didn’t care where we were or who was with us, that he just wanted to marry me.”

My smile stretches as my stomach does that gooey thing when I hear something that makes me happy, making me think of soft toffee and melted chocolate.

“So, we started to plan the wedding and who we were going to invite, and I realised that other than my work colleagues, I don’t actually have that many friends. I told him that out of all my friends, you’re the best one I had and I really wanted you to be there, but we hadn’t spoken in so long, and I didn’t know whether you’d still want to talk to me, let alone come to my wedding.” Sydney’s eyes tear up.

I reach over the table, and she latches onto my hand as the melted chocolate in my stomach mixes with fluffy marshmallows and makes me feel so warm and cosy that I never want to leave this moment—until the reality of what she’s saying crashes down around me. I hope my smile isn’t making me look delirious.

She wants me to come to her wedding.

And she’ll want me to bring my imaginary boyfriend, who I made up not even twenty minutes ago and am now going to have to produce in… a year, maybe?

I inwardly relax a little. People usually plan a wedding a year in advance, if not longer. A year is plenty of time to bribe someone to go with me, by which time Sydney will have forgotten he’s supposed to be a kitchen designer, as he’ll probably end up being a waiter or a barman or any guy I can convince to come on a few dates before slapping the wedding invite in front of him.

“It’s not going to be a big affair,” she continues. “We both agreed we just want something small and personal. I’m not having bridesmaids, as we don’t want any fuss. But I’d be honoured if you could make it. It wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

Squeezing Sydney’s hand, I squash down the fat tears threatening to break free.

“Of course I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She returns my squeeze as a smile lights up her face.

“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me, and I understand it might be difficult at such short notice.”

Short notice?

The panic is back. What’s considered short notice in the social calendar? There might be no time to bribe someone. Am I just going to have to find someone, anyone, who’ll come to Sydney’s wedding and pose as the love of my life?

“When’s the wedding?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds naturally inquisitive and not downright petrified.

She beams. “Four weeks today.”

I pray she doesn’t see the blood run from my face.

Four weeks.

Twenty-eight days.

I’ve been looking for love since the day I was fourteen, when I first watched the film Dirty Dancing and Patrick Swayze became the checklist for all potential love interests. That was twenty-two years ago.