Chapter 15
Astrid
Wedding day…
“......you may now kiss the bride.”
Cheers erupted as the groom leaned in and kissed his bride. Cameras flashed. Laughter bubbled. Groomsmen whistled. Guests jumped to their feet, some clapping, some dabbing at their eyes, and I slipped away to a secluded corner. The celebration was theirs now.
I sat on the vineyard wall, wiping my forehead with the edge of my sleeve, the shade doing a bad job of keeping me cool when Kelly appeared, two cocktails in hand, looking way too annoyed for someone holding drinks.
“Answer your damn phone.” She sat down beside me. “I was searching the entire venue like a headless chicken.”
I threw my hands up, laughing. “Sorry, my dearest Kel, but I had to keep it on silent for the I do part.” I took the glass she handed me and quickly turned my phone’s ringer back on, just in case. Better to not miss anything important.
She clinked her glass against mine. “Next time, maybe install a headlight.” She winked. “To another wedding.”
“To another wedding.” I smiled. “Thank you, Kel.”
She took a long sip. “For?”
“Pulling me back in. I didn’t think I’d ever do another wedding after…” My throat tightened, fingers clenching around the glass. I still couldn’t say it.
People usually talked when they lost someone.
They shared their grief, finding comfort in speaking it out loud.
I wanted to—I tried. But the words never came.
My mind wouldn't allow it. I'd cry, breaking down when no one could see, but I never admitted how I truly felt, not even to Kelly.
Maybe because if I let myself go there, I'd have to live through it all again.
Kelly squeezed my hand, probably sensing my struggle. “I know. You don’t have to.”
We sat in silence.
“Oh, by the way,” Kelly perked up, breaking the silence.
“Mrs. Parker from the grocery store is officially your biggest fan. She wouldn’t stop raving about the gold butterflies you added to the aisle and insisted on getting your number.
So congrats. You’re booking new clients before the current wedding even wraps up. ”
“I guess I’ll need my own studio.” Yesterday, someone from LA had reached out, mentioning Amy’s mom had recommended me. That caught me completely off guard. I'd been juggling a hundred tasks at once, so I told her I’d get back to her after the wedding.
I was worried about whether moving here had been the right choice, if I could really pull this off in a town I barely knew. But two inquiries before I even wrapped up the first wedding? That was definitely a promising start.
“I’ll help you with that,” Kelly offered. She eyed me up and down. “And can we please talk about your dress? You’re wearing a dress. No oversized shirts, no baggy pants, and no bun. If weddings do this to you, we're booking one every weekend.”
I burst out laughing, “Don’t get used to it.”
Kelly always says I'm too lazy to dress up and use my job as an excuse.
She wasn't exactly wrong.
My usual look was comfort-first. Shirts tucked into pants, sleeves rolled to my elbows, oversized tees and shorts when it got too hot, hoodies when it got too cold.
Always sneakers, always glasses, and the ever-present bun because hair in my face was a no-go.
Wedding planners had to be ready to run, climb ladders, and crawl under tables, none of which went well with high heels or floaty dresses.
Except for actual wedding days, when I grudgingly compromised for a dress, swapping glasses for contacts, strictly for photographic evidence.
I glanced over to follow Kelly's gaze, landing on a small wooden cabin tucked inside the vineyard. She was staring at it a little too intensely. “Is that vineyard guy's?”
“His name is Ayden.” Her voice had that familiar note of annoyance, as if I'd deliberately gotten his name wrong again.
Every time I messed up a detail about him, she pounced like a human autocorrect. Part of me was tempted to call him Lord of the Grapes just to see how quickly she'd jump in to correct me.
“You’re awfully invested in accuracy when it comes to Ayden.” I teased. “Secret crush? Or a secret marriage I don’t know about?”
“God, I don’t even think about him. You’re reading into things.” She waved it off. “Drink your cocktail, Azzie.” But the way she avoided my eyes suggested otherwise.
Kelly didn't keep secrets from me. I knew about every date she'd ever been on—though, admittedly, they were few and mostly mild disasters. Still, she always told me.
Whatever was going on with Ayden, she wasn't sharing. If I pressed her, she'd change the topic or conveniently pretend not to hear. I'd just have to get creative, set a little trap and catch her red-handed.
I rolled my shoulders, wincing at the ache as I stepped away from the DJ booth, the final notes of the last song fading out behind me. Amy spotted me and threw herself into my arms, squeezing tight. “Thank you, Astrid. Seriously, I don’t even have words. You were incredible.”
Isaac leaned in next, offering a hug. “You really made today perfect, Astrid.”
“Oh, come on,” I teased. “You two did the hard part—falling in love.”
Amy sniffled, laughing. “I know planning all this in a week was a nightmare. We weren’t exactly easy clients.” She gave my hands an appreciative squeeze. “Honestly, thank you. Now go home, please. Rest.”
Rest.
Even the word sounded dreamy. If someone handed me a pillow right now, I'd curl up on the dance floor and fall asleep without a shred of dignity. That's how exhausted I was.