Chapter 17
Chapter seventeen
The Next Day
Early afternoon light pours into Marisol’s suite in long ribbons of gold.
Her room occupies the corner of the castle’s east wing, a sprawling space meant for royalty and, apparently, now repurposed for bridal chaos. Two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the gardens below, where hedges form careful geometric patterns and a gravel path winds to the chapel.
The glam squad arrived an hour ago and have transformed the sitting room into a command center. Curling irons warm on marble trays. Makeup palettes lie open like tiny artist studios. Racks of dresses stand along one wall, silk and chiffon catching the light whenever someone passes.
Marisol sits in the center of it all.
Her robe is ivory silk embroidered with small flowers along the collar. A hairstylist works a curling wand through her dark hair while another kneels beside her with a tray of pearl hairpins arranged in careful rows.
Over by the wardrobe, her wedding gown hangs alone on its rack.
The dress is pure fantasy. Ivory silk fitted through the bodice before exploding into layers of floating tulle.
Hand-stitched blush and pale-blue flowers trail along the train, catching the light each time the fabric moves.
A seamstress stands nearby, steaming the skirt with the care usually reserved for museum pieces.
Or, a Disney princess wedding.
Marisol always said if she waited long enough to marry Julian Monroe, she was going to do it properly. Seventeen years apparently qualifies as long enough.
The rest of us orbit around her. The supporting cast in a particularly glamorous production.
Miranda inclines against the window, sipping coffee while scrolling through her phone. Lupe sits in a makeup chair nearby while a stylist blends soft color along her cheekbones. Véronique studies her blue gown in the full-length mirror.
Sera and Soleil claimed the velvet sofa near the balcony doors. It’s a throne built for two. The girls watch themselves in the mirror propped on the wall as a stylist stands behind them weaving their dark curls into intricate braided crowns.
“This is the best day of my life.” Soleil is practically vibrating with excitement.
Sera rolls her eyes. “It’s Mom and Dad’s wedding.”
“It’s our wedding too,” Soleil declares with absolute certainty.
Marisol laughs, barely turning in her chair. “You’re not wrong, my sweet girl. I’ve been planning this since before you were born. Now we’ll all finally get to experience it.”
The stylist lifts a small dish of glittering pins. “More sparkles?”
“Yes,” the twins answer in perfect unison.
I glance over from the window with mock surrender. “Elegant sparkles.”
The girls beam like royalty as the first glinting pin disappears into Soleil’s braid.
I sit beside them while someone finishes spritzing the soft waves in my hair. My freshly-steamed dress hangs beside the twins’, a blush-colored gown with a flowing skirt and matching ballet flats.
Pausing for a moment, I simply take it in. Everything carries a quiet kind of joy. Laughter rises and falls around me, familiar voices weaving together.
Gratitude settles quietly in my chest.
Life doesn’t often slow down enough for all of us to be in the same place at the same time. Work, cities, flights and responsibilities scatter everyone in different directions. Gatherings with all five of us are rare.
Yet here we are. My oldest friends. Their families. The twins who have grown up so fast they’re suddenly old enough to stand beside their mother on her wedding day.
Marisol and Julian have taken an unconventional path to get here. Seventeen years of love, arguments, children, and life before finally deciding to throw the wedding they always joked about. We’re joyfully witnessing a love story we all helped write.
I’m proud to be here for this moment and the chance to stand beside my best friend while she finally gets her princess day.
Not to mention the unexpected gift the past few days have given me.
Zach lingers in the back of my mind. A warm secret I’m dying to reveal.
God, the way he looked at me last night. Like I matter to him more than anything else. For the first time in a long while, the future isn’t rushing toward me faster than I can comprehend.
Now I’m in control. Opening an entire new chapter.
Choice.
The memory of last night lingers under my skin. Zach’s hands all over me. His voice and the certainty in his eyes when he told me he wasn’t letting me walk away again.
A smile slips onto my face before I can stop it.
I’m standing near the tall mirror while the stylist secures the last pin in my hair, soft curls falling over my shoulders. In the reflection, Marisol catches my eyes.
She doesn’t say anything.
She just gives me a look.
The look.
The one she perfected at twenty-two sitting in the back row of Contracts pretending to understand cold calls.
I glance away and smooth the skirt of my dress.
Around us the suite buzzes with last-minute movement. Miranda helps the twins into their shoes while Lupe adjusts a bracelet on Véronique’s wrist. One stylist gathers brushes from the long table while another folds garment bags.
“Alright.” Miranda claps once. “Let’s move before someone changes their mind.”
The twins rush out the door and disappear into the hallway. Lupe and Véronique follow behind them, talking quietly as they go. Miranda isn’t far behind.
I’m halfway to the door when Marisol’s hand closes gently around my wrist. “Hold on.” She studies my face for a moment. “You look different.”
“Good different?” I tilt my head.
Her eyebrows lift marginally. “Yeah.”
“Something happened.” I lower my voice as we pause beside the doorway. “We can talk about it after the wedding.”
“Spill.” Marisol folds her arms, studying me.
I smooth the front of my dress, trying to find the words.
“It’s Zach, right?” She fixes me with a pointed stare.
I exhale, resigned, and glance down the hallway to make sure the others are still waiting near the elevator. “That obvious?”
“Duh.” Marisol nods slowly.
“Fine. We slept together.” I lower my voice even further. “On the plane. And…pretty much every chance we’ve had since.”
Hearing the words out loud is strange and wonderful all at once.
Marisol’s reaction isn’t shock. Her mouth curves into a satisfied smile as she lets out a quiet breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to spoil your day.” I shake my head, laughing softly.
“Spoil. Schmoil. Fifteen years plus seventy-two hours,” a grin tugs at her lips. “Thank God you two finally stopped wasting time.”
“He’s…incredible.” Heat creeps up my neck and I look down, twisting the dainty bracelet encircling my wrist.
Her face softens immediately. “I’m really happy for you.”
“It feels fast,” I admit, glancing out the window where the garden ceremony chairs wait in perfect rows. “Also slow.”
“No, overdue.” Marisol reaches out and squeezes my hand.
I swallow. “I’m so fucking scared.”
“Sky.” She steps closer, her hand still wrapped around mine. “Zach has loved you for years.”
I shake my head subtly. “He told you?”
“He didn’t have to.” Her thumb strokes lightly against my knuckles before she releases my hand. “I’m glad you two finally stopped pretending.”
Voices echo down the hallway as the others gather near the elevator. The twins’ laughter carries from around the corner. Marisol glances over, then back at me before stepping away.
“Come on.” She gestures at the noise. “Right now, your job is to walk beside me and look happy.”
“Easiest job in the world. What about the rest?” I ask, following her down the corridor.
She smiles as the elevator doors slide open.
“The rest will sort itself out.”