Chapter 14
In the morning, Emmy woke to a firm swat on her butt. She peeled open her eyes to see her sister hanging over her with a half-deranged
grin and pink jelly stickers beneath her shining eyes.
“Wake up! I’m getting married today!” Piper bellowed and shoved off the bed. She ran out of the room barefoot with her silky
white bridal robe fluttering in her wake.
Emmy sat up with a groan but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her heart.
“Breakfast is coming in twenty minutes, and the girls will be here at ten!” Piper shouted from the kitchen, where Emmy heard
the distinct pop of a champagne bottle.
She’d just swung her bare legs over the bed’s edge when Piper reappeared with two champagne flutes blushing pale orange. A dash for color was how Piper had always preferred the orange juice in her mimosas.
“Good morning,” Emmy greeted when Piper handed her a flute.
“Good morning. Cheers.” Piper clinked her glass and sipped.
Emmy sipped the fizzy bubbles and smiled. “Happy wedding day.”
“Thank you. I have something for you.” She set her flute on the nightstand and swept off to the walk-in closet.
A walk-in felt like overkill for vacation to Emmy, but the likes of people renting the villa probably traveled with a closet’s
worth of luggage anyway. At least it had plenty of space for Piper’s ballooning ball gown to hang.
Piper returned with a gift bag and presented it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s your MOH gift.” She sat on the bed next to her and excitedly watched her open it.
Emmy pulled out a short, silky robe the same champagne color as her bridesmaid’s dress.
“To wear while we get ready,” Piper said.
“Thanks.” Emmy slipped it on and felt the luxurious sleeves brush her arms like silk gloves. She reached deeper in the bag
and found a small jewelry box. Her eyes popped wide when she opened it to two dazzling diamond stud earrings.
“To wear with your dress,” Piper said with a smile.
Emmy gaped at them. “Are these real ?”
“Yes. Don’t go swimming in the ocean with them, please.”
Emmy turned to her sister and realized today was significant in more ways than one. Piper was getting married, yes, but she
was also transitioning from a single girl to a woman who gifted multicarat jewels. Her life was becoming one with Ben’s, fully,
and some things would never be the same.
“Thank you,” Emmy managed to squeak out.
“Of course. They’re bigger than all the other girls’, don’t worry,” Piper said, and pushed up off the bed.
Emmy snorted. “I wasn’t worried.” She shoved her hand back into the bag and felt a small card tucked into an envelope. Piper
had scrawled My Sister on the front of it, and with a sudden thick lump in her throat, Emmy decided she was going to read it later.
The villa was soon overtaken by an elaborate room service spread—eggs, fresh papaya, passion fruit, waffles, endless mimosas—a
gaggle of squealing bridesmaids, and photographers. Hair and makeup began promptly at 11a.m. to fit everyone in before pictures
and then the ceremony. Before she was committed to being glamorized for the rest of the day, Emmy still needed to escape to
her room to get her dress and shoes.
She narrowly slipped through the throngs of matching silky robes, excited giggles, and the bachelorette playlist pumping from the house’s speakers and snuck outside.
The sun splashed brilliantly from above, saturating all the colors into a dazzling, vibrant tapestry.
Sand, sky, sea. Thick, puffy clouds hung offshore, rimmed soft gray at their bottoms, and Emmy hoped any rain would hold off.
She dashed back to her building and rode the elevator, feeling light and bouncy thanks to two mimosas and the thought of seeing
Gabe on this happy day. At their door, she knocked, and when he didn’t answer, she swiped her wristband and poked her head
in the door.
“Gabe?” she called.
Only silence responded.
She slipped inside to find the room empty and a note on the dresser.
Gone fishing.
Emmy quietly laughed at the little drawing of a fish with bubbles coming from its mouth and smiled at the thought of him spending
time with her dad. She had no idea what they were going to do with any fish they caught, but that wasn’t really the point.
She opened the dresser to retrieve her bra and dreaded shapewear then turned for the closet to gather her dress. On her way,
she noticed the pillow wall had been deconstructed and one side of the bed slept in.
Her side.
The pillow she’d slept on the night before was indented and the one next to it crushed like it had been hugged all night.
She picked up the crushed one and pressed it to her nose. It smelled like him—and her, because the night they’d shared the
bed, she’d spent the whole time holding that pillow between her arms.
Her heart stuttered and she smiled. She wished she had more time to dwell on it, maybe lie down and hug the pillow herself,
but she needed to get back to hair and makeup.
She gathered her dress and threw all her necessities in a tote. Before she left, she scribbled a note below the Gone fishing one.
Gone to get made up. See you at the ceremony. Xo.
And then, the wedding was upon them.
Emmy had been so wrapped up in getting ready, posing for ten thousand preceremony photos, and fulfilling all her last-minute
MOH duties, that she really didn’t see Gabe again until the ceremony.
She walked down the aisle, a stone pathway scattered with white rose petals, arm in arm with Ben’s brother, the best man.
It wasn’t until she stopped at the archway exploding with palm leaves and tropical flowers and turned around to face the guests
that she saw Gabe sitting among them. He’d donned a soft gray linen suit with a white shirt and styled his hair into its customary
wave. Like most of the guests, he wore sunglasses to combat the late-afternoon sun, but even behind the shades, Emmy could
feel his eyes on her.
She gave him a tiny wave and mouthed Hi.
He waved back and moved his mouth in shapes Emmy interpreted to say You look incredible .
She quietly laughed and gathered her satin skirt to step into position as maid of honor. Gabe’s words felt like a suit of
armor when she caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. Jacob sat five rows back on the groom’s side. Emmy didn’t
make eye contact with him, but she felt his eyes on her. His gaze landed differently than Gabe’s; something cooler and probing,
perhaps laced with curiosity. Luckily, she had too much else to focus on to pay any mind to it. Namely, holding her bouquet
as instructed (belly button high, tilted forward), trying not to sweat in the sun (impossible), and remembering to take Piper’s
bouquet when she handed it to her and then hand it back to her before she returned down the aisle (no pressure; don’t ruin
the photos).
The other bridesmaids fanned out behind her in matching dresses, all of them lined up inches from where the pool deck ended and the beach began.
Only Emmy’s dress was of a different cut, hugging her chest and leaving her shoulders bare save for two thin straps.
The long skirt was slit to her thighs on either side and let the gentle and merciful breeze move around her legs.
When her sister walked down the aisle, Emmy didn’t stop the joyous tears from blurring her eyes. She held Piper’s bouquet
and listened to her and Ben exchange vows. Then there was an enthusiastic kiss, ecstatic cheering, and ten thousand more photos.
It wasn’t until cocktail hour, after she’d gotten lost in the billows of Piper’s skirt as she bustled it for her, that Emmy
finally had a moment to catch her breath. And in that moment, Gabe slid up to her and handed her a fizzy pink drink, which
she eagerly sipped.
“Thank you,” she told him and clinked it against the matching one in his hand.
“You’re welcome. You look amazing.”
The pink fizz tingled her tongue in a dangerously delicious tequila-laced bite. “Thank you. So do you.”
He kept staring at her like he was seeing her anew and couldn’t stop looking. It put a hot flare in her already warm cheeks.
“So, are you relieved of all maid of honor duties now that they’ve said I Do?” he asked.
Emmy scrunched her face. “Not quite. Still have to make a speech. And probably a hundred other things Piper will think of
to ask me to do before the night is over.”
“Hmm. Is dancing on the list?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“What if it’s with me?”
She stilled with her glass pressed to her lips, poised to sip again. “Are you asking me to dance, Gabe Olson?”
“Indeed I am.”
“There’s no music.”
“Well, I assume there will be later.”
“I might be drunk later.”
“A prerequisite for dancing, naturally.”
She playfully smiled at him over her glass and took a much needed sip. The thought of twirling around in his arms or bumping
and grinding or even doing the robot—whatever they were going to get up to based on the mischievous grin on his lips—had her
dizzy already.
“Fine. I’ll save a slot on my dance card for you.”
“Much obliged,” he said with a little bow.
Emmy laughed, and when it came time to dance later, she was a little drunk, and he was, to absolutely zero surprise, an excellent
dancer. Much better than her, and honestly hard to keep up with.
“Why are you so good at this?” she asked as he spun her around and reeled her back in as Van Morrison crooned a classic love
song.
He pressed his hand warmly into her lower back and held the other up to lead her around the dance floor. “Would you believe
my parents enrolled me in ballroom lessons as a kid because it was supposed to help with athletic performance?” He dipped
her over backward and used the move as an excuse to pull her against his chest.
She laughed, dizzy with joy. “You know, I absolutely believe that.”
“I’m a proud graduate of Senora Sanchez’s Junior Dance Academy.”
“The one in East Village?”
“The very one.” He dipped her over again as she giggled. With her vision turned upside down she caught a glimpse of Jacob
swaying with his date nearby.