My (Mostly) Fake Wedding - Penelope Bloom Page 0,60

should’ve thought so, considering I’d wound up making every decision from the colors of the flowers to the type of chairs guests would sit in. I could thank Mindy for that.

I’d wound up choosing a completely different dress than any of the ones I tried on for Chris. Considering it was supposed to just be pretend, I knew I was being silly, but I didn’t feel right wearing a dress he’d seen me in. Traditions still meant something to me, no matter how twisted the circumstances.

It also hadn’t felt quite right to drape myself in a designer dress worth thousands and thousands of dollars. I’d instead gone to a normal, run of the mill bridal boutique and picked out a sensible but gorgeous dress. It was traditional, poufy, and made me feel like a damn princess, just like I’d always dreamed of.

The guests—all one thousand and forty of them—were arranged on the green grass field just beyond the gardens. Behind the altar we’d had custom built by a team of carpenters, the view was an endless expanse of rolling green hills, puffy white clouds, and clear blue skies.

I was standing in the gardens where I would wait until the music started. A tall hedge blocked me from the view of the guests, and I was still flanked by my bridesmaids. After the drama in Texas, most of my friendships had been put on hold or burned up all together. It meant the only bridesmaid I’d personally chosen was Val, who was giddily bouncing on her toes beside me in a pale blue dress. Chelsea and her friend Milly rounded out the group of bridesmaids, which was mostly to keep the numbers balanced.

Chris had chosen his brother and two of his teammates as groomsmen. The three men stood a few feet away from us talking quietly about something. All three of them towered comically over us, like everything from Chris’ life, including himself, had to be super-sized.

Val squeezed my hand. “You ready?”

“That depends. Does ready feel like you’re about to throw up a little bit?”

She let out a little squee, then gripped my hands harder. “Sounds ready to me!”

I lowered my voice, leaning closer to her. “Let’s not forget this is just for show.”

“Is it?” Val asked.

I felt her question jab into me like a pinprick. Why would she ask that? She knew everything I knew about the deal and the arrangement. She was the one who had convinced me it was a good idea specifically because of the expiration date. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you both like each other. A lot. It’s obvious to anyone with functioning eyes. So why does it have to be pretend? Maybe it’s a little fast, but you guys could figure it out. I mean, what happens if two people who would otherwise be in a relationship get pushed into marriage a little fast? Do they break up because of it? No. That would be dumb. They just… ride it out.”

I shook my head. “That’s—”

The music signaling the bridesmaids and groomsmen to walk out started, and I was left with my father, who had been hanging back. He dutifully stepped up beside me and waited. “Do you think Chris would speak for me at political rallies?” he mused, almost to himself.

I slid my eyes toward him. “Dad. Seriously?”

With the hint of a smile, my dad chuckled. “That was a joke.”

Wow. Jokes from my father. He must have really been in a good mood.

And then the wedding march played.

Here I come, bitches. I smiled to myself. God, I couldn’t believe this was happening. I shook the nerves out my hands, then stepped out from the hedge with my arm hooked in my father’s.

The rest felt like it played on fast-forward. I felt thousands of faces watching me, practically glided down the aisle toward Chris, who was standing tall and proud with one of the biggest smiles I’d ever seen on his face—and that was saying something.

I took my place across from him, and it felt like everything else shrank away, like the world had suddenly condensed into a tight ball of existence where it was just me and Chris. I tried to write the sensation off by telling myself weddings were powerful things. It was built into us to put significance in this moment, to feel like our bodies were electrically charged.

Except I wasn’t sure anymore.

I wasn’t sure I didn’t want this to be more, but the idea was so embarrassingly crazy I