Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,82
chattering away, not even paying attention if I’m listening to her or not, which is perfect. Her nonstop talking gives me time to think.
Stella’s right. I deserve everything Mitch was willing to give to me. He worshipped me. Made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. The way he touched me, looked at me, kissed me…
No one has ever made me feel like that before.
I can’t let him go. I have to talk to him. And I don’t want to do it over the phone either. Or even FaceTime. I want to stare into his eyes and listen to what he has to say. And then when he’s finished, he’s going to listen to me too.
Maybe we can make this work.
“Okay, I’m done,” Laci says, and I blink my vision back into focus, staring at myself in the mirror. Laci stands above me, a giant smile on her face. “What do you think?”
My hair is down, wavy at the ends, and she clipped up one side, where eventually a fresh white rose will be tucked behind my ear. “It looks great,” I say, smiling in return. “It’s so nice not to have to worry about my own hair for once.”
“You have beautiful hair,” Laci tells me, giving my shoulders a quick squeeze. “Wonderful texture. It can do just about anything.”
“Thank you.” I’m feeling good. Better than I did when I first arrived, that’s for sure. I need to hold on to this feeling and carry it with me throughout the rest of the day.
Positivity is the name of the game this afternoon, and I’m going to own it.
Even if it kills me.
Twenty-Five
Eleanor
“Work it, work it!” I am yelling at the top of my lungs, encouraging Stella to shake what her mama gave her, and Stella is giving it as good as she can, pretty much twerking in the middle of the dancefloor, her boyfriend Carter—and Caroline’s big brother—watching her with complete and utter amazement.
I bet he didn’t realize his girlfriend could throw her ass back like that.
The reception is in full swing, and I am having the time of my life. I let go all of my Mitch-induced sadness and throw myself fully into the moment.
The ceremony was gorgeous. There was a breeze, the sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot—it’s never too hot this time of year here, so that’s always a bonus.
Caroline and Alex’s vows were solemn and powerful. I teared up. A lot of people did. I could hear sniffing throughout the crowd, even among the women standing at her side. Once the endless photos were finished being taken—that went on forever—we finally made our way to the reception tent.
When we first entered, I couldn’t help but think it looked like something out of a dream. Caroline kept the vine theme throughout, with tendrils of greenery and fresh flowers wound around every available space. The lighting was subtle, casting everything in a gentle, golden glow. There are twinkling fairy lights draped in the middle of each table. Bright, fragrant flowers everywhere you look. You could even smell them, fragrant and sweet.
My bouquet is beautiful and I can’t wait to take it home and stare at it for the next few days. My dress fits like a dream, which I’m thankful for considering I haven’t ate much these last few days and was worried I lost weight.
My boobs still threaten to fall out of it, though. Like right now, while I’m dancing and pointing at the twerking Stella. Everyone’s laughing and clapping, encouraging her bad behavior. More women start twerking. I can’t manage it. I’ve tried before, but failed. This is not my time to shine. I’m giving it up to Stella and Co. for tonight.
Once the song is over, the DJ starts talking, announcing that it’s time to cut the cake. We all make our way over to the table where the giant cake sits. It’s a beautiful thing, three round tiers with white frosting and topped with real flowers. I can’t imagine the florist bill for the wedding.
Caroline and Alex are kind as they feed each other cake. No shoving cake in each other’s faces, which I’m sure was discussed beforehand. There are sounds of disappointment, but for the most part everyone claps.
And then it’s back to the dancefloor.
I beg off, going over to our table so I can sit down for a minute and rest. My feet ache. The sandals I’m wearing are beautiful, with thin silver straps, but painful after