Chapter 3 #3
“You were right,” I say breathlessly, a single tear coursing down my cheek, but not for the reason Abi and Arch probably think it is. “These are fantastic.”
Archie nods, holding up the invitation to the light, agreeing, “It’s definitely a work of art! Pretty in blushing virgin pink! Not that you’ve been one of those in eons.”
He laughs at his own joke as I trace a finger over one of the floral designs, feeling like my heart is going to drop through my chest.
I have to tell Abi and Archie. They’re my best friends, but saying it aloud makes it more real, more final, more ridiculous.
Abi, who is always perceptive about my moods, suddenly peers at me closely.
“Is something wrong, Vi?” She takes my hands, turning me toward her and holding my arms out wide as she scans me from head to toe.
I feel her hands squeeze mine, and then her eyes widen as she grips my left hand and pulls it in front of her face.
“Wait a minute. Where’s your engagement ring? ”
Even though I knew the question was coming, I freeze as Archie and Abi look at me expectantly.
Taking a deep breath, I open my mouth to let it all out.
“I—” Suddenly, a tidal wave of emotion washes over me and I burst into tears. “Colin called off the engagement!” I blurt, sobbing uncontrollably. “We’re not getting married!”
“Oh, my God, honey,” Abi gasps in horror. “I’m so sorry!”
Immediately, I’m enveloped in the arms of Archie and Abi as they hold my body totally supported while I try to hold back the sobs that won’t stop coming. For the next several moments, they both coo and soothe me as the tears I’ve held back for the entire day flow out of me like a great river.
Girl, stop crying over that asshole! You’re gonna scare off Abi’s customers with all this caterwauling!
The thought is sobering, and after a few more hiccups, I pull myself together enough to tell Archie and Abi that I’m fine. They let me go hesitantly, eyes ping-ponging from each other then back to me in a silent conversation.
“Did he give a reason?” Abi asks softly, her eyes filled with compassion and fury at seeing me hurt.
She’s a good friend, and I know that between her and Archie, Colin would be buried in a shallow grave in the woods outside town and we’d all have airtight alibis at the snap of my fingers.
Okay, maybe not that drastic for real, but damn close.
I dab at the corner of my eyes with the napkin she produces from her purse that’s sitting on a nearby stool, feeling angry with myself for breaking down like this.
All day while I worked, I told myself that I’d be strong and I wouldn’t do it.
But I guess I’m more hurt about it than I’m willing to admit.
“He said we both were so busy and that we’re at different crossroads in our lives .
. . and he just wasn’t ready to commit.”
“That’s code for he wants more pussy,” Archie says confidently, and when Abi scowls at him and throws a backhand to his bicep, he protests, “What? It’s the truth!”
Abi hisses out of the corner of her mouth like I can’t hear her, “I know that, and you know that, but does Vi look like she wants to hear that right now? Shut-ay your mouth-ay.”
Archie huffs, his neck swirling. “That’s not remotely how pig Latin works, dear. But message received.” They face me again like they didn’t just have a whole discussion about me right there.
“But seriously, Vi, that’s a shitty excuse. You deserve a better explanation than some bullshit that doesn’t make any sense.”
“But you know what?” I say, blowing my nose.
“It actually does. When I really think about it, Colin was right. I don’t think we were ever really in love.
I don’t know why he proposed, but I just got swept up with the idea of love and marriage and having this big fairy tale wedding. Especially because my Papa . . .”
My words trail off as a lump forms in my throat.
Both Arch and Abi give me empathetic looks, knowing how much Papa Stefano means to me.
Just the thought of telling Papa my engagement is over is almost enough to send me over the brink. He was so looking forward to my wedding and walking me down the aisle.
Now he probably never will.
And I know in the deepest, ugliest part of my heart that he was my real reason for rushing with Colin and why I’m not that hurt about losing him, but more about what this all means for Papa.
Honestly, it’s probably a good thing Colin stopped the whole thing, but that doesn’t make it any easier to reconcile that I won’t be able to give Papa the one thing he’s holding on for.
I feel like a bitch for using Colin that way, but I’d been truly blinded by my own dreams and thought we would be happy.
The romanticism of the whole thing was so powerful .
. . meeting again, falling in love, the need for a fast development of our relationship.
It had felt magical and like my own whirlwind of a Hallmark movie.
Big mistake. Huge.
“I understand,” Abi says sadly, understanding my pain.
Archie reaches over and gives my hand a comforting pat. “Don’t worry honey. Your granddaddy is gonna be just fine. We’re going to find another man who’s going to appreciate you for who you are, and you’ll get married and have the wedding you always dreamed of with your Papa at your side.”
I quiet at Archie’s words. He means well, but we all know the odds of that happening are damn near zero. There’s no way I’ll be able to find another guy I actually like, build a relationship from the ground up, get engaged with him, and then marry before something horrible happens to Papa.
This is the real world, not a Reese Witherspoon rom-com. You don’t meet the love of your life and get married over a single weekend, as the shards of my very own fantasy still surrounding me prove quite well.
“But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” I sigh. “My mom and Nana went around telling everyone that I was getting married, and cousins I didn’t even know I had are going to fly in from all over the world . . . unless I tell them all to cancel their tickets . . . which I have yet to do.”
“Holy crap,” Archie mutters.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m in deep shit unless I can come up with a magical solution.”
At that exact moment, the entry doors to Sweet Pea’s open with a tinkling bell, and even from the back, I can see the tall man dressed impeccably in custom-tailored slacks and shirt enter.
The soft lighting of the floral boutique makes his dark hair shine and throws his chiseled jawline into shadows and highlights, and a Greek god would be jealous of that physique, broad shoulders and a tapered waist atop long legs.
I recognize him immediately.
Ross Andrews.
Abigail’s big brother.
Abigail’s asshole big brother.
“I know!” Abigail suddenly exclaims with a gasp and a snap of her fingers, her eyes going wide in her dramatic fashion that lets me know Abi’s just come up with a crazy idea.
“Oh, no,” I say, seeing Abi’s face light up as her eyes fall on her brother’s face. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer’s . . . no way.”
But Abi ignores me, waving at Ross and smiling like she’s so overjoyed to see him before tossing me a mischievous wink.
“Congratulations, Vi. Looks like we just found your magical solution! You can call me your Fairy Godmother.”
Horror strikes me at what Abigail is hinting at. Me and Ross? But we basically hate each other. Our entire relationship is built on us torturing each other. Definitely no love lost between us. We barely put up with each other because we both care for Abi.
Dimly, I hear Archie argue, “If anyone in this room is going to be the Fairy Godmother, it’s damn sure not you. It’s me.”