Chapter 33
After my speech, there’s only one dish left – steak in a red wine reduction – and then the couple’s toast, once again thanking the guests for their presence and letting everyone know that dessert will be served along with the enormous table of sweets and pastries, and that the bar will be open all night.
I’m pretty sure the goal was to hype up the guests and speed up everyone’s drunkenness, which clearly worked, since the line at the bar is getting longer by the minute.
Which, in turn, was meant to distract Mila from what was actually happening: the preparations for the couple’s first dance as husband and wife.
Before anyone really notices, the groom is already on stage, a spotlight shining on his face.
Robbie taps his lapel twice, and the microphone crackles with loud pops that make the guests look around trying to find the source of the noise.
And also alert the band, who at this point is going table to table with the filming crew on their heels, that it's time to stop playing. Only after the instruments finally fall silent and the whole space goes quiet, Robbie begins.
“Could the bride please make her way to the dance floor?”
The spotlight leaves him and lands directly on Mila’s face, lighting up her eyes in a bright blue shimmer, followed by the most radiant smile of all time.
Guests whistle and clap as Mila does exactly what Robbie asked and makes her way to the glass platform set on the grass, tiny lights glimmering beneath it like a dark sky full of stars, something that, judging by the rest of Robbie’s speech, I’m convinced was entirely intentional.
The spotlight settles in the center of the dance floor, marking the exact spot where she should stand.
Once again, Mila obeys, met with a chorus of cheers that only dies down when Robbie continues, “Camila Rose Carnegie, ten years ago, when I said I’d go up to the sky and bring you all the stars if you wanted to, I wasn’t just trying to get lucky. ”
The room fills with soft giggles, and I find myself smiling along with everyone else.
“I meant it back then, and today, when I say I’d do anything to make you happy, even dance the same song for six whole minutes just because, one day, ten years ago, I managed to win over the most beautiful girl in the world thanks to a Boyce Avenue cover… I still mean it.”
This time it’s Robbie who breaks into a goofy smile, as if he’s reliving the moment in his head. Even from here I can see the shimmering wetness in his eyes up on the stage.
“I could’ve never imagined that college kid with messy hair and teenage beard I was back then would be dancing to that same song on his wedding day, but hey, here we are, aren’t we?”
Robbie takes a deep breath, looking away from the bride just long enough to say, “We were supposed to have the bridesmaids’ and groomsmen’s dance afterward, but considering the events of today, we decided to skip it.
So you’re all feel free to join us on the dance floor when the next song begins.
That way, if a fight breaks out, there’ll be more people around to pull us apart. ”
Great. Even Robbie is trying to smooth things over with a bit of dark humor.
He exhales again, a mix of nerves and “well, that’s life,” and gets back on track.
“Mila, today I couldn’t bring you the stars for our first dance as husband and wife,” he says just as the door to the side room opens and the musicians start climbing the stairs to the stage.
The spotlight is on her, so the stage is still dark enough that no one can tell who they are. And by “no one,” I mean Mila—, because I seriously doubt Sara Guzman or even the Carnegies would recognize the guys from Boyce Avenue.
“But I swear to you,” Robbie says, as the first chords ring out and his voice trembles, like something is lodged in his throat, “I swear to you, my love, I went as far as I could.”
That’s when the stage lights come on, and a soft voice, accompanied only by an acoustic guitar, comes through the speakers.
Mila brings her hands to her mouth to hold back a scream. Robbie takes slow steps, coming down from the stage, walking across the starlit glass floor toward her. With the same contained smile, his eyes shining more and more, a blend of happiness and tears. So many tears.
The guests get up, forming a circle around the dance floor, smiling, cheering, recording.
Little by little, the bridesmaids’ and groomsmen’s table empties too.
Tony and Cordelia. Gemma and Elise. Brad and Victoria.
Suzi. Connor. Andrew shoots up the moment he realizes who’s still at the table and practically bolts.
Which leaves only me. Me, Jasper, and his whiskey glass that hasn’t been empty once. He glances at me, just for a split second, his face completely unreadable as he takes another sip.
It’s a quick, serious look that seems to say a million things and still says nothing at all. Then he sets the glass down and, instead of standing like everyone else, simply looks away and pulls out his phone, ignoring everything around.
Robbie hired the band that played their song, built a floor full of stars just for Mila to step on, and is now dancing the most romantic song in the world with her.
While I… while I spent the whole week falling in love with a guy who has intentionally been getting my name wrong for ten years and now can’t even look at me properly.
A guy who can only… I don’t know, scowl and drown himself in expensive alcohol.
That’s it. Locked jaws and single malt. The full Julie experience.
I get up, the same depressed expression plastered on my face, and head to the dance floor.
Thinking of Mila, smiling for Mila, crying for Mila.
I’m not crying over him. That part I refuse.
When their song ends, the guests do as Robbie said and join the newlyweds on the glass platform to the sound of Stand by Me. Tony is the first to walk my way. After all this time, he’s the first to say something.
Well… not exactly say something. He comes toward me, looking up while raising his hand, clearly showing me the invisible shit hitting the invisible fan over our heads. Exactly the way he said it would when I told him about Jasper at the bachelor party.
“You doing okay?” Tony asks as he puts one hand on my waist and the other on my shoulder, pulling me into the dance floor, doing all the work, since I can’t seem to move on my own.
I’m not even sure I can dance at this point.
I’m not sure of anything anymore.
I accept the dance to try to distract myself and not start crying.
“That depends,” I finally answer. “Was all the humiliation I went through just a dream, or did it actually happen?”
“It wasn’t humiliation, Jules. It was love. These things are perfectly justifiable when it’s love.”
I let out a laugh that, thank God, is swallowed by the loud music. Love? Is he serious?
“Sorry, but did you hear the part where he said he never wanted any of this?”
“He just didn’t express himself very well,” Tony defends the guy. Of course he does. He’s one of Jasper’s best friends.
I just roll my eyes.
“He’s a jerk who got rich by lying really well, Tony. He has always expressed himself just fine.”
“Or maybe not. Maybe something finally shook that whole wall of arrogance he hides behind,” he says, forcing a laugh out of me.
At least Tony agrees with me on something.
“Besides, you did kind of accuse him of hitting on someone else and then sat next to Connor just to make him jealous. Honestly, I think it was–”
“If you say ‘justifiable’ again, I’m going to commit a murder,” I cut in before he can say anything else.
Tony just laughs, giving me a little nod to show he got the message. Then he pulls me closer, swaying awkwardly in that adorable way of his, and we keep dancing in deep silence.
It doesn’t take long before I feel a hand rest on my shoulder.
I freeze.
And I don’t even know why. It’s too light, too small, too delicate to be his hand. My body has known the feel of his hand on me for a long time. This is something else. A touch I know just as well.
I look to the side with a sad smile. Mila.
And immediately I feel that fucking lump rise in my throat. She presses her lips together, returning my sad smile. Tony lets go of me at once, stepping back, and then Mila – on her wedding day, in the middle of Boyce Avenue singing Stand by Me – wraps her arms around my neck in a tight hug.
“Mil–” I try to speak and sniffle.
“Shhh,” she whispers in my ear.
“I’m sorry,” I say, already crying.
“I know.”
“I swear I d-didn’t…” I stammer.
“Shhh,” Mila says again, pulling me closer. “Tomorrow. Leave everything for tomorrow, Jules.”
And if I already felt like crap, this just makes me feel even worse.