“It’s okay, Bekka. This isn’t a real wedding, remember?” I said, giving her an easy smile.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Lauren squealed for the fifth time since we’d been ushered into this waiting room.
“Me neither,” Katy said, pouring her glass of sparkling grape juice into the trash. “How long is this going to take, anyway?”
Bekka turned to her sister. “This was your idea, remember? You were the one who pushed the dare on Tori. And you’re now complaining about how long it’ll take?”
“I’m not complaining,” Katy said, sour-faced. “It was just a question.” She rolled her shoulders. “I’m just ready for this to be over.”
“It’s a wedding,” Lauren said like Katy was stupid. “They’re not exactly five-minute dealios. Your sister’s won’t be either.”
“He could’ve chosen one of those drive-thru places,” Katy said, still complaining. “We’d be in and out in a flash.”
“Well maybe he likes to take his time,” I finally said, leveling her with a gaze. “Some guys don’t like to rush through things.”
“But he’s rushing to get married to you. If you don’t know him, then you must have paid him.”
I didn’t have the energy for Katy then and was grateful when the wedding planner opened the door and ushered them out to take their seats.
I checked the clock next to the door—it was eleven pm. Interestingly, I wasn’t the least bit tired. Despite the afternoon of imbibing and excessive suntanning, I felt like I had the energy to run a marathon.
Not that I wanted to. Fuck that.
But I was halfway nervous that this restless energy would manifest itself into me taking a jog down the aisle to where Liam awaited me. It seemed to take forever, waiting for the planner to come back in and let me know it was my turn. What could they possibly be waiting for? What took so long?
When the planner finally opened the door and nodded at me, my feet moved so quickly that she gently murmured for me to slow down. “There’s no rush,” she said as she escorted me down a small, dimly lit hallway to where I could only glimpse the conservatory.
But my heartbeat thrummed quickly, in anticipation for what lay before me. So, it was one thing to tell me there was no rush, but it was another thing entirely to convince my traitorous heart to slow down.
My first sight of the conservatory took my breath away. It was a dark metal structure, filled up with clean, clear glass windows. Beyond the windows lay a grove of trees that were wrapped intricately with small white lights, the same lights that framed the dark metal beams and window supports in this pocket of heaven. With the dark sky beyond the windows above, it was like walking into an illuminated forest, interspersed with black chairs that sat on either side of an aisle covered in white fabric, leading all the way to where a minister and Liam waited for me, under a black iron archway, wrapped in white roses.
The venue for our wedding had no right to be this romantic, not at all. If anything, it made me feel like I was walking down the aisle to a man that was mine for more than just this moment. It intensified every emotion that battled its way forward, leaving me breathless and anxious and a little bit impatient.
My gaze found Liam’s as I walked alone up the aisle to an instrumental version of Here Comes the Sun. It was far from the traditional Canon in D arrangement I was familiar with, but it was perfect. Lighthearted, but it fit the mood of the room and its occupants.
Goosebumps erupted along my arms, but I wasn’t cold. Liam’s gaze was steady, his smile sure and his stance convincing to anyone who might wonder if this was the real thing. I could do a lot worse than a groom like him, however fake this was.
10
The song had been perfect for her. As soon as the first few chords played, the smile that bloomed on her face equaled that of a sun—or at least that’s how it seemed. It was entirely possible that I was romanticizing this moment between us, but it was virtually impossible to pretend that a wedding ceremony in this place was anything but romantic.
She fucking glowed. I was positive that if the thousands of little white lights illuminating the room had suddenly turned off, the glow she possessed—that she radiated—would be enough. But I was grateful