right at me.
My heart stops. My mouth dries. I’m frozen in place (which is fine, because I’m not supposed to move right now). His eyes are creating some sort of magnetic force field and I’m unable to escape.
“Oh shit,” I mutter, because I’m in it, big-time. No matter what Nick says or does when I tell him I love him, this is it for me. There isn’t another person on earth who could make me feel the way he does.
Dungeon Master Rick gives me a dirty look, so I attempt to cover up my profanity with a prolonged sniffle, pulling another tissue out of my bra to wipe my nose.
By then, Annie and Don have completed their long walk down the aisle. Uncle Don gives Drew a hug, and Dungeon Master Rick doesn’t do the whole “who gives this woman away” speech, probably because Annie told him not to.
The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur. I think someone reads an E. E. Cummings poem, or some song lyrics, or that one Bible verse about love. I manage to mostly pay attention—I take Annie’s bouquet when it’s time for her to hold hands with Drew and say their vows—but I don’t know what anyone says. My heart’s back to beating one name, over and over. Nick Velez Nick Velez Nick Velez.
I jolt into the present when Dungeon Master Rick pronounces Drew and Annie married, and they kiss, and we clap, and I link arms with Drew’s brother, who doesn’t come up to my shoulders, even with the “growth spurt” Annie claims he had.
The second we make our way up the aisle, the D&D guys spring into action, moving chairs and putting out tables as people mill around and “This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)” starts playing (Annie showed me her playlist, and it is entirely songs from her favorite rom-coms). The photographer leads us outside to take some photos on the brick-lined streets and in Schiller Park, near the newly green buds on the trees and the finally blooming tulips. I can’t resist one more look over my shoulder, but Nick is lost somewhere in the small crowd, presumably already getting his bartender on.
I’ll have to talk to him later. Oh, God. I’m going to talk to him later.
Chapter Thirty-One
After stopping by The Book Loft courtyard, where Annie insists on taking a picture with Drew because apparently they once shared a romantic moment in the store (it’s extremely Annie to have a romantic moment in a bookstore), we end up in Schiller Park. The photographer shuffles us into every imaginable combination for pictures. Drew and Annie and his family, Drew and Annie and Uncle Don, Annie and me, Drew and Louis, Drew and Annie and me and Louis, looking like the most mismatched double date in the universe.
“Hey,” Annie whispers to me as Drew and his family take another photo together. “How are you feeling?”
“Nauseated. Full of doubt. Like I want to melt into the pavement.”
Annie frowns. “This is your public declaration of love. You should be feeling urgent! Determined! Passionate!”
I exhale. “Annie, we’re gonna have to settle for queasy, okay? What if Nick is like, ‘Ew, no’? What if he’s mad? What if he doesn’t even like me anymore?”
Annie waves me off, like this is all preposterous. “That’s not the way this works. Have you ever seen a romantic comedy where a person who is true of heart makes a declaration of love and the other person denies it?”
“My life isn’t a movie!” I shout, and Drew’s family turns to look at us. I wave and purse my lips, then turn back to Annie. “You didn’t script this, Annie. It might not work.”
“Come on. This is true love we’re talking about. Weren’t you listening during our wedding readings?”
“No.”
She rolls her eyes and smiles. “Love never fails, Chlo.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know if I believe that.”
She squeezes my arm. “That’s okay. I believe in it enough for the both of us.”
And even though I’m so nervous that I’m seriously considering puking on some daffodils in front of Drew’s entire family, I trust her.
* * *
* * *
We return to the wedding, where the D&D guys have done a great job setting everything up. The floral centerpieces are surrounded by tons of battery-operated candles (Annie’s seen enough rom-coms to know the mishaps that lit candles can cause), which flicker romantically in the almost-dark.
In a word, it’s beautiful.
I sit down next to Annie and Drew at the head table; Louis