Chapter Eighteen
There was magic in the air when I woke the next morning, and every hard and heavy thing that had weighed on me seemed to lift as soon as my eyelids fluttered open.
I smiled, dressing quickly in the soft pink bridesmaid robe and slippers Morgan had set out for me, and running down the stairs to the kitchen.
I poured up two mimosas, and then ran into her bedroom on the first floor and leaped on top of her with her head still buried under the covers.
“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”
I shook her and squeezed her until her sleepy smile came to life, and she started squealing with me, and before I knew it, we were tearing up and laughing and clinking our glasses together, toasting to a great day and a beautiful future.
“I just want you to know that today is going to go by fast,” I told her when we were sipping the juice and champagne, the rising sun just barely peeking in her room.
“Try to soak up every moment. Take mental screenshots. I’ll take as many pictures and videos as I can on the side, too, but just really be here and in this moment, okay?
Steal Oliver away later for a little time alone, just the two of you.
I’ll make sure people leave you alone. And more than anything,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her wrist. “I hope this day is as perfect as you’ve always dreamed. I am so, so happy for you.”
Her eyes welled with tears, and she sat her drink aside before launching herself at me. I held my glass as steady as I could, chuckling when a sip splashed out of the side and onto her comforter, but neither of us cared.
“I love you so much,” she whispered. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
My heart swelled. “Me, too.” When we pulled back, I arched an eyebrow. “Ready?”
Morgan’s smile was radiant when it spread across her face on a certain nod. “Ready.”
Less than ten minutes later, her mom flew through her bedroom door, already crying, and Operation Wedding Day was in full effect.
I didn’t even have to try to keep my mind off anything, because it was so effortless to fully immerse myself into my best friend’s wedding day.
We laughed and drank mimosas as Aunt Laura did our hair and Oliver’s cousin did our makeup, the wedding planner making everything feel calm and not rushed.
It was easy hanging out with Oliver’s mom and sisters, and I could tell by the way Morgan and her mother lit up around them that they were all caught up in the bonding, in two families becoming one.
That was the magic of a wedding day.
We took pictures in our robes, and then enjoyed a light lunch before Morgan sat us all down and gave us personalized letters she’d written to us all. Luckily, Oliver’s cousin was there to patch up our makeup after we all bawled like babies.
The photographer and videographer were there to capture it all, and they especially took time and care as we all got dressed — me in the lilac bridesmaid dress Morgan had picked out for me, the mothers of the bride in similar shades, but their own styles, Oliver’s sisters in their gorgeous, beachy maxi dresses.
And finally, Morgan in her wedding dress, each of us helping her — slipping on her shoes, putting her earrings in, fastening her necklace, lacing up the back.
When she was completely dressed, we all stood around her with our hands over our mouths and tears in our eyes, taking in her breathtaking beauty.
The dress I’d watched her pick out in the shop just two weeks ago was somehow even more gorgeous now, the creamy lace stunning against her freshly bronzed skin, the sweetheart neckline and open back giving her a dreamy, almost Hollywood look.
She was a star, glowing from every inch, her short hair curled and topped with a tasteful, delicate flower crown.
And before we knew it, Morgan and I stood behind the closed shutter doors of the beach house with her father, listening to the guests as they were seated outside and knowing her future husband waited at the end of the aisle.
Time slowed as I watched Morgan with her father, her arm threaded through his and dewy eyes cast up toward him.
He smiled down at her with his own eyes misted, placing his hand over hers in his arm, assuring her with his strength and caring touch.
They didn’t have to say a word for me to hear everything.
I love you.
I’m proud of you.
I’ve got you.
My heart stung with a longing, the same one I’d always had watching them together.
I’d never know what that was like, to have a father like Robert, or to have a mother like Amanda — but this family was my family, too.
And when Robert looked back at me, reaching his other hand for mine and pulled me into his side for a hug, the only thing that stopped me from sobbing was remembering how Oliver’s cousin threatened to murder us if we ruined her makeup one more time.
“I love you girls so much,” Robert said softly, and we both leaned into him, sniffing back emotion. “Let’s get you both down that aisle, shall we?”
We nodded, and Morgan reached out to squeeze my arm with a smile before I released them from my grasp and took my place in front of them. The wedding planner nodded once we were in place, speaking softly into her headpiece, and then she flashed me a smile and waved me forward, closer to the doors.
“Ready?” she asked.
And I was. I had been focused all day. I had felt good, right, warm and fuzzy and wrapped in love.
But the moment those doors opened and the entire congregation turned to stare at me, my eyes found Tyler, and everything I’d suppressed that morning and afternoon flooded me with a vengeance, nearly knocking me to my knees.
My feet were glued to the floor where I stood, and if time had slowed before, it was at a complete standstill now.
I couldn’t hear the soft harp playing, or feel the breeze rolling in from the ocean.
I couldn’t taste anything but bitter, unrelenting truth on my tongue, and all I could see was the man I knew I’d never be truly free of.
Somehow, I managed to take that first step, and then the next, and though I knew I should smile and look around at everyone gathered in the chairs around the aisle, I could only look at Tyler.
And he could only look at me.
The way the sun was slowly sinking cast a golden glow over his chestnut hair, which was styled and neat, parted on the side and swept over in an effortless way.
The breeze blew gently through the strands, but didn’t disturb them, and his eyes were ablaze as he watched me walk toward him.
I noted his freshly shaved jaw, the way it ticked and flexed the closer I came, the thick muscles of his neck straining against each swallow, and each shallow breath that found his chest.
I’d seen Tyler in pajamas, and in swim trunks, and in his business suit and in his casual shorts and crew shirts. I’d seen him dressed up for a night on the town and even in a tuxedo for his senior prom and my own, too.
But I’d never seen Tyler Wagner, scarred from pain and longing, standing in a tux next to his sister’s future husband with so much written in his sad eyes as they watched me walking toward him.
I’d never felt the heat of his gaze so fiercely, like a flame held just centimeters from my skin, hot enough to make me wriggle and squirm for fear of being burned, but far enough away to not actually mark me.
How was it so heartbreaking to look at him, and yet so intoxicating, too? How was there still hope and want and longing simmering deep in my belly as I watched him, when all the signs pointed to us being nothing but toxic for each other?
How could we ever be together?
How could we ever be apart?
I paused at the end of the aisle, watching him for a long moment with all those questions whirling in my mind before I finally turned to take my place on the opposite side.
I caught a brief, stiff breath of clean air, and then all eyes were on the doors I’d just walked through, on the bride and father who walked through those doors, arm in arm.
The congregation gasped in unison, standing as she and Robert walked slowly down the aisle.
Oliver choked on a quiet sob, pinching the bridge of his nose as emotion overcame him.
I smiled a little when Tyler squeezed his shoulder, and Oliver’s gaze found his bride again, the brightest smile washing over his face.
Their love poured out over the beach and across everyone on it. It was impossible, in that moment, not to feel it in the same all-encompassing way that they did.
When Robert told the officiant it was he and Amanda who gave Morgan to the groom, kissing her cheek and passing her hand to Oliver’s, everyone sat, and the ceremony began.
It was beautiful.
It was emotional.
It was perfect.
And after they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, they walked down the aisle together, and Tyler held out his arm for mine to walk us right behind them, as rehearsed.
But it was the first time we had touched since the night we’d had each other fully, and we both sipped a short, burning breath when my arm slipped through his.
I squeezed the muscles hidden by his tuxedo jacket, mostly so I didn’t fall, but also because I couldn’t help but revel in their strength, in his warmth, in his scent, like teakwood and turquoise waters.
He held his arm steady, but I didn’t miss the shakiness of his next breath.
We held our gazes forward, somehow managing to smile and nod to everyone as we passed, but for me, that moment stretched on into infinity. I wondered if Tyler wanted to hold onto me, too, or if he was just desperate to get this over with so he could never touch me again.
As soon as we were behind the shutter doors, he answered my question — releasing me without so much as a glance or a second thought. Moments later, Azra was in his arms, and he kissed her cheek as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist.
I felt that kiss like an ice pick to the heart.