Chapter Eighteen
Quinn
S aturday is here all too soon. I stand in one of the guest rooms in GiGi and David’s house still not believing this is real.
I’m marrying Abraham Baxter today.
Mom shuffles around me, making a big fuss over my hair. Then, she examines my dress for the fifteenth time. I’m not sure what she’s looking for or if it’s her nerves making her brush her hands over the dress so many times.
She, Lois, and Julie helped me pick it out on our one and only shopping trip this past week. I’m thankful I was able to find it at the small bridal shop in town so I didn’t have to hunt all over the place for one.
Glancing at the dress, my lips turn up in a giddy smile. The white dress is simple with its short, fluttery sheer sleeves, but it’s perfect for our small beach ceremony.
Julie curled my hair, leaving it to flow down my back. I tried to do my makeup, but she swatted my hand away and did that as well. When she finished, she flipped the mirror for me to see, and I almost ruined the work she’d just done from the tears that built up. Every girl dreams of all the little details of their wedding. Makeup included. And Julie did it to perfection. She’d given my face a fresh, dewy, natural look, and whatever color combination she used on my eyes made the blue hues pop.
I glance up to see her wiping a tear from her eyes. “Thank you, Julie. It’s perfect.”
She hugs me, her chin on my shoulder as we stare in the mirror together. “It’s not every day your best friend gets married.”
I’ll have to get her a thoughtful gift after this. She’s the only one who knows the marriage isn’t real.
Scratch that. It is real.
We have our marriage license. All my things have been moved to Bram’s house—thanks to the help of David, the twins, and my brothers. We have a preacher—though it had taken a little bit of convincing for Pastor Woodhouse to agree to the wedding in such a short time frame. The only reason he had was because he’s known us all for years. He also made us agree to monthly marital counseling sessions for the first year of our marriage.
Neither Bram nor I are too thrilled with that. But Pastor Woodhouse informed us that he usually has couples meet with him at least six times during their engagement, and since we are skipping that, he thought he’d double the sessions.
The point is—everything about the marriage is real, except for the fact we aren’t in love.
I take a fortifying breath. Bram and I haven’t had any more time alone this week. We were too busy moving my things, getting our marriage license, and meeting with Pastor Woodhouse. And now I’m getting ready to walk down the aisle and marry the man.
I choke on a laugh. Or is it a sob?
Julie raises a brow in my direction, and I simply shake my head. Too many emotions are running through my heart and mind right now. I’m grateful when she doesn’t lecture me or dig for more details. That’s what I love about Julie. She knows when to give someone their space.
I also find it oddly comforting that she knows the truth about Bram and me. It helps to have someone I can be one hundred percent honest with without fear of judgment. If Lois found out? Goodness, I’d never hear the end of it. And I’d hate to see what she’d do to Bram.
Julie isn’t thrilled about it all. She tried to talk me out of it at first. But once I’d laid my case before her—and my very limited options—she realized that maybe this was the smarter thing to do. She may not agree with me, but at least she supports me.
GiGi knocks on the door before sticking her head in. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”
My stomach drops to my toes and the only thing keeping me standing is sheer determination.
This is it.
Time to become Mrs. Abraham Baxter.