Chapter 1 #3
When we're done, Miles pays the bill despite my protests, and we step back out into the cooling afternoon.
"I should probably get going," he says, checking his phone again.
"I told the guys I'd meet them later. Groomsmen stuff."
"Okay." I try not to feel disappointed that we're cutting our time together short.
"I'll see you this week?"
"Yeah, definitely. I'll text you." He leans in and kisses me. It's brief, almost perfunctory.
"I love you, Scarlett."
"Love you too."
I watch him walk away, hands in his pockets, shoulders still hunched. There's something wrong. I can feel it. Something he's not telling me.
I pull out my phone and text Jane:
Winter: Still coming over later?
Her response is immediate:
Jane: Wouldn't miss it! Sarah and I will be there by 6 with champagne and snacks.
At least I'll have my friends tonight. At least they're consistent.
I head back to my apartment, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that's settled in my chest.
Jane and Sarah show up at six PM exactly, arms full of supplies. Jane has the champagne—two bottles, one already chilled. Sarah carries a bag from our favorite bakery and another bag that clinks with what sounds like glasses.
"The party has arrived!" Jane announces, sweeping into my apartment like she owns the place.
Sarah follows, grinning.
"We come bearing gifts and moral support."
I hug them both, grateful for their presence.
Jane and Sarah have been my best friends since college.
We met freshman year at Northwestern—three girls thrown together in a cramped dorm room who somehow became inseparable.
Sarah went on to law school and became a paralegal.
Jane landed in publishing. I went into PR.
Despite our different career paths, we've stayed close.
"I already changed," I tell them, gesturing to my comfortable clothes.
"Hope you don't mind the casual vibe."
"Are you kidding? This is perfect." Sarah starts unpacking the bakery bag.
"We've got cupcakes, cookies, and those little cannoli you love."
Jane is already working on opening the champagne.
"We're here to celebrate. One more week until you're a married woman!"
The cork pops with a satisfying sound, and Jane pours three generous glasses. We gather on my couch, the coffee table covered with desserts and champagne.
"To Scarlett," Jane raises her glass.
"The most organized, capable, beautiful bride in Chicago."
"To not having a nervous breakdown before Saturday," Sarah adds with a laugh.
We clink glasses and drink. The champagne is crisp and perfect, bubbles dancing on my tongue.
"So," Sarah settles back into the cushions, "how are you really feeling? Be honest."
"I'm okay," I say automatically.
Jane gives me a look.
"Scarlett Anne Bradford. We've known you for almost ten years. Try again."
I sigh, taking another sip of champagne.
"I'm fine. Just a little stressed. Normal pre-wedding jitters."
"And how's Miles doing with the jitters?" Jane asks.
"He's... stressed too. Work is crazy for him right now. And I think he's nervous about the wedding."
Sarah frowns. "Nervous how?"
"Just the normal stuff. Big commitment, life changing, all of that."
"You two are solid though, right?" Jane's expression is concerned.
"I mean, you've been together three years. You're ready for this."
Am I? The question I've been avoiding all day resurfaces.
"We're solid," I say, hoping I sound convincing.
"We love each other. We're building a life together. It's going to be great."
"Damn right it is." Sarah grabs a cupcake.
"You two are perfect together."
Jane leans forward, eyes sparkling.
"Okay, so let's talk about later this week. You're finally going to meet the infamous Dax Blackwell."
I laugh. "Why do you say it like that?"
Jane’s eyes are now bulging out of her head.
"Because Miles barely talks about his brother, and from what I've heard, the guy is like a legend in the media industry."
Jane works in publishing, so she keeps tabs on major players in media and entertainment.
"Blackwell Media Corp is massive. They own networks, newspapers, digital platforms. Dax built most of that empire himself after taking over from his father."
"I didn't realize it was that big of a deal," I admit.
"Are you kidding?" Jane pulls out her phone, typing rapidly.
"Look."
She shows me a search result for Dax Blackwell.
There are photos—professional headshots, images from galas and industry events.
My breath catches slightly. He's striking.
Tall, commanding presence even in photos.
Salt and pepper hair, sharp jawline, piercing eyes that seem to look right through the camera.
"He's hot," Sarah observes over Jane's shoulder.
"Like, intimidatingly hot."
"He's Miles's brother," I say, pushing the phone away.
"So? You can acknowledge objectively attractive humans even when you're engaged." Jane grins.
"Besides, I want to meet him. It's fascinating that Miles comes from this huge media dynasty family and he's just... Miles. Working at a journalism outlet, living a normal life. You'd never know he had that kind of background."
"I know." I've thought the same thing many times.
"I completely forget sometimes. He's in his own bubble with his work. The Blackwell name doesn't really come up."
"Does Dax ever try to get Miles to join the family business?" Sarah asks.
"Not that I know of. Miles said they're cordial but not close. They lead pretty separate lives."
Jane takes a cupcake, peeling off the wrapper.
"Well, this week we get to meet him. I'm excited. It'll be fun to put a real person to the name."
"Just don't swoon too obviously," I tease.
"Miles might notice."
"Please. I'm a professional." Jane bites into her cupcake, frosting coating her upper lip.
"I can totally play it cool around media moguls."
We dissolve into laughter, and for the first time all day, I feel myself relax. This is what I needed. My best friends, champagne, desserts, and easy conversation.
"Okay, but seriously," Sarah says once we've calmed down, "let's go over the guest list. Who am I most excited to see? Who should I avoid?"
"Avoid my mother," I say immediately.
"She's already in full anxiety mode."
"Noted." Sarah pretends to make a note in the air.
We spend the next hour going through the guest list, gossiping about various relatives and family friends.
Jane does an impression of my Aunt Carol that has us in tears.
Sarah shares a story about a disastrous wedding she attended last year where the groom got so drunk he fell asleep during the reception.
The champagne flows, the desserts disappear, and slowly the knot of anxiety in my chest begins to loosen.
"I'm so glad you guys are here," I say, feeling emotional. Maybe it's the champagne.
"Where else would we be?" Jane squeezes my hand.
"You're getting married, Scarlett. This is huge. We've got your back."
"Through everything," Sarah adds.
"Even if your mom drives you crazy and Miles gets weird pre-wedding jitters."
"Even then," Jane agrees.
We stay up late, talking and laughing until Sarah's yawning so hard she can barely speak. Finally, around eleven, they gather their things.
"If you need anything this week, call us," Jane reminds me at the door.
"We're here for whatever you need."
"You're the best." I hug them both.
After they leave, I clean up the champagne bottles and dessert wrappers, then get ready for bed. My apartment is quiet, just the ambient noise of the city outside my windows.
I brush my teeth, wash my face, change into pajamas. In the bedroom, I glance once more at my wedding dress hanging on the closet door.
One more week.
I climb into bed and turn off the light. In the darkness, I can almost convince myself that everything is fine. That the unease I've been feeling is just normal nerves. That Miles's distraction is just work stress.
I close my eyes and try to believe it. Sleep doesn't come easily.