Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lanie
Maplebridge, two weeks later
W arm light filtered through the wide windows of Eliza and Julian’s kitchen that morning, casting a golden glow over the room that felt like a hug. Everything about their home spoke of them—Eliza’s penchant for soft colors and cozy textures, Julian’s knack for practical elegance. The white cabinets were accented with brass handles, and the reclaimed wood table in the center of the room was laden with plates of fresh fruit, croissants, and a carafe of coffee. Photos covered the walls and shelves, a testament to the life they’d built together. Some of the pictures were of Eliza with Julian, some with Mark... He looked the same as he had in Portsmouth, but happier.
Was it seeing me again that had put such sadness in his eyes?
The photos that gutted me were the ones from years ago—when the four of us were inseparable. A picture from Julian’s fifteenth birthday party caught my eye—all of us laughing, smearing icing on each other’s faces. Julian’s mother had taken that photo, laughing as she called her son a menace. Julian had jokingly called us the problem—and he was right. Without us, he likely never would have snuck out of his house to sit under the stars, talking about absolutely nothing for hours.
There was another photo of Mark and me—cutoff shorts, T-shirts, windblown and glowing from a day at the lake. His arm was slung casually over my shoulder, and I was playfully elbowing him in the ribs. The camera had caught us mid-laugh, looking into each other’s eyes like a newlywed couple. Back then, I couldn’t see how much Mark liked me.
But I could see it now. How had I ever doubted him? How had I left him?
In the photo, he looked like a young man in love. Had I broken his heart? Was that why he seemed to want to hurt me now? Did I care?
No. I refuse to allow myself to.
Mark—and whatever his issues were—no longer had anything to do with me.
I wasn’t back in Maplebridge for him.
I was here for Eliza and Julian.
Still, I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t admit I wanted some of what my friends had. Their house, the photos, the little knickknacks—evidence of how seamlessly Eliza and Julian had woven their lives together.
Lately, I felt like a helium balloon released by a child at a party—free but uncertain of where I’d land. Although Eliza’s house was on the outskirts of town, I had to drive through Maplebridge to get to it. The anticipation of coming back had proven more painful than actually being here. Some things had changed, but so much hadn’t.
It was like stepping into a photograph that had been tucked away in an old album—familiar, but with memories softened by time. The overgrown sycamore by the library. The cheerful flower boxes in front of the bakery. The kids riding their bikes on the sidewalks along Main Street. All reassuringly familiar.
Eliza had assured me, even though I might run into some of our old classmates, no one was who they’d been back then. I had seen that for myself last night. I had stopped to fill up my car, and when I stepped out to pump the gas, I realized I knew the station’s owner.
Andy. My old chemistry partner. He came out when he saw me. Big smile. Friendly handshake. Told me it was good to see me. Said he was married now—with one kid who was wild enough that he and Meg had decided to stop there, but they had recently learned they were expecting another, so... life.
“Congratulations! And Meg? Prom Meg?”
Our entire senior year, all Andy had talked about was how much he wanted to ask Meg to prom and how afraid he was that she’d say no. He had finally worked up the nerve—but then got the flu right before and hadn’t been able to go. His eyes warmed with memories. “I had to marry her. She skipped prom to take care of me.”
“Smart woman.” I didn’t doubt for a second that he doted on her. “Tell her I said hello. I’m so happy for both of you.”
“Will do.” He nodded. “She was thrilled when Eliza told her you’d be coming around to help with the wedding. She’s part of the bridal party too.”
“That’s awesome.” I pursed my lips and admitted, “Thank you for this. It’s hard to come back after all this time, and you’ve made it a little less terrifying.”
Time hadn’t frozen.
The people I’d gone to school with had kept living—happily—and the rumors that had flown around about me were long forgotten. Not that Andy had ever been a part of that. He was one of the sweetest people I’d ever known.
Sympathy filled his eyes. “We should have gone to Portsmouth for your grandfather’s funeral, but Meg had a doctor’s appointment, and we have little Pete...”
I waved a hand. “We understood. And thank you.”
When I arrived at Eliza’s house and told her about meeting Andy, she had hugged me and said, “Why are you so surprised that people are happy to see you? Because a few jealous assholes started shit with you our senior year? Ask me where any of them are now. No one knows. You know why? Because no one cares. People remember how nice you were to everyone. How helpful. They know you left because your mother needed you, but you’re back now—and we’re all hoping you stay.”
I had nearly broken down then and there. She had wisely chosen to distract me with unpacking and dinner.
“Good morning,” Eliza said, setting a mug of coffee in front of me and pulling me back to the present.
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her engagement ring catching the sunlight as she moved. “Did you sleep okay?”
I nodded, wrapping my hands around the mug for comfort. “Just taking it all in. Your house... it’s perfect, Eliza. It’s so you.”
A pleased smile spread across her face. “Thank you. It’s home, you know? The one I’ve always wanted.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand. “It’s so good to have you here.”
My throat tightened. “It’s good to be here. I’ve missed you.”
She beamed, her cheeks rosy. “Well, today is all about us. Before we drag everyone else into the wedding madness, I want to spend the day with my sister.”
Her words hit me square in the chest, filling me with warmth and a faint ache.
Sister.
Family—the way we had vowed we always would be.
“Sisters,” I said softly, smiling despite the lump in my throat.
Eliza grabbed her keys and gestured toward the door. “Let’s go. I found this boutique in Boston that’s supposed to be incredible. It’s exclusive and by appointment only, but Julian said I’m worth it. We’ll make a whole day of it—dresses, lunch, maybe walk around Faneuil Hall like we used to.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I let it pull me out of my swirling thoughts. “I’ll drive so you can have a mimosa or two. This definitely sounds like the kind of day that calls for some,” I said, grabbing my bag and following her out the door.
“Mimosas! I don’t care how corny that is, I’m having some. I’ve waited and dreamed about this for too long not to enjoy the shit out of every moment.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said with a laugh.
As we headed to the car, I glanced back at the house. The windows glinted in the morning sun, and the flowers Julian had planted along the walkway swayed gently in the breeze.
It wasn’t just a house.
It was a life.
A life they had built together, brick by brick, photo by photo.
I didn’t have a place I considered home.
But I wanted one.
I climbed into the car, vowing to push aside my tangled emotions for the day. This wasn’t about me.
It was about Eliza and her joy, and I would do everything I could to make this day as special as she had dreamed it would be.
The boutique was nestled in Boston’s Back Bay, its entrance framed by flower boxes brimming with vibrant blooms. A golden script on the window read Ethereal Bridal, and as Eliza and I stepped through the door, the tinkling of a bell announced our arrival.
Inside, the air was softly perfumed with vanilla and white tea. Light spilled from crystal chandeliers, bouncing off rows of wedding gowns displayed like art. The space was all white walls and blush accents—luxurious yet inviting, like stepping into someone’s dream closet.
A tall, elegant woman with a sleek bob approached us, her clipboard tucked neatly under her arm. “Good morning! You must be Eliza and Lanie,” she said, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m Hannah, and I’ll be your consultant today. I’m so excited to help you both find the dress.”
Her enthusiasm caught me off guard. Both of us?
Before I could correct her, Eliza looped her arm through mine and leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Just go with it. It’ll be more fun this way.”
I glanced at her, bewildered. “Wait—did you tell them we’re both getting married?”
Eliza grinned unapologetically and whispered, “I might have. I was nervous, and you know I get self-conscious. I couldn’t imagine trying on dresses and spinning around alone. Besides, we’re here to have fun. We’ll find the perfect dress for you to wear as my maid of honor another day. Today, let’s just have fun.”
Hannah smiled, likely used to giddy, whispering brides. “Why don’t we start with some champagne? It’s chilled and waiting for you in your private suite.”
We followed her to a cozy lounge tucked behind a row of gauzy curtains. Plush velvet chairs surrounded a low table where two glasses of bubbly waited alongside a plate of macarons. The walls were lined with floor-length mirrors, and a raised stage stood under a cascade of soft lighting.
“This is so extra,” I whispered, my fingers grazing the soft fabric of the chair as I sat down.
“That’s the point,” Eliza said, her grin widening.
Hannah clapped her hands together. “Now, I’d love to hear about your visions. Tell me everything—the venues, the styles, the vibes.”
Eliza launched into an animated description of her wedding at a castle mansion they had found a few towns away, with sprawling gardens and an outdoor ceremony space. She gestured with her champagne flute, her excitement filling the room.
“I want something timeless and elegant, maybe a little vintage. Lace, but not too much lace. And definitely something that lets me breathe.”
Hannah nodded, taking notes on her clipboard. Then she turned to me with an expectant smile.
I opened my mouth to clarify that I wasn’t getting married, but Eliza beat me to it.
“Lanie’s wedding will probably be more relaxed. She’s a creative spirit, so I’m thinking something bohemian. Flowing fabrics, earthy details. She’ll probably have wildflowers in her hair.”
“Really, I—”
“Got it,” Hannah said, scribbling away. “Let me pull some options for you both. Sit tight!”
As soon as she was gone, I turned to Eliza, mock glaring. “Wildflowers in my hair?”
She shrugged, entirely unapologetic. “You’re the one who taught me to make flower crowns when we were kids.”
I laughed despite myself, settling back into the chair. “You’re impossible.”
A few moments later, Hannah returned, flanked by two assistants carrying an array of gowns.
Eliza squealed, clapping her hands.
I tried to suppress my nerves as one of the assistants helped me into a gown of soft, flowing chiffon with delicate floral embroidery along the bodice.
When I stepped out of the dressing area, Eliza’s jaw dropped. “Lanie. Oh my God.”
I turned toward the mirror and froze. The dress floated around me, light and shimmering, its train pooling like water on the floor. For a moment, I didn’t recognize myself.
“It is beautiful,” I murmured, smoothing the fabric over my hips.
Eliza bounded over, her eyes wide with wonder. “You’re stunning. You could walk down the aisle right now, and everyone would cry.”
“The only aisle I’m walking down is at the supermarket,” I reminded her, but my voice was low, meant only for her.
Eliza waved my joke off. “You just gave me the courage to try one on!”
With that, she motioned for the consultant to bring her a dress. She changed right there and then, no modesty needed after I’d broken the ice.
The dress swallowed her—layers of satin and beads drowning her frame. But that’s not what I said. If she loved it, I would too. “You’re gorgeous!”
She was. With the way she was glowing, her smile would be what people remembered, not any accessory she wore.
We twirled, laughed, and hammed it up in front of the mirror.
Eliza tried on dress after dress—some sleek and sophisticated, others over-the-top with layers of tulle. Each time she stepped onto the stage, I gasped in exaggerated delight, and she posed like a runway model. She did the same for me.
I’m sure we didn’t impress any of the workers, but that didn’t matter. We were making a big-life memory. At one point, I found myself in a dramatic ball gown, its skirt so voluminous I could barely see my feet.
Eliza doubled over laughing, clutching her sides. “Lanie, you look like a Disney princess.”
I stuck my tongue out, but even I couldn’t help laughing. “That’s me—princess material, for sure.”
“You are,” she said, wiping her eyes, her tone shifting to something more serious. “You work hard and have always taken care of those around you. It’s okay to let this side of yourself out as well.”
“This side?”
There was only gentle understanding in her expression. “Lighthearted. Hopeful.”
Since no one else was in the room, I let a little honesty slip out. “I’m so happy for you and happy to be part of this, but life-wise, we’re not in the same place. I’ll be lighthearted after I figure out where I want to live and who I want to be.”
She walked to where I was, our dresses meeting before our hands did. “The first of those two things will naturally sort itself out, and the second is something you already know. You’re a strong, resilient, loyal woman with a big heart and a fucking incredible best friend.”
I hugged her then, holding on tight.
A lot of things didn’t make sense to me lately.
But she did.
“As for another dress—I refuse to leave here until we find one that makes you cry.”
Smiling, she called one of the assistants back into the suite and changed into another dress.
When Eliza stepped in front of the mirrors, the consultant fussed with the layers of tulle and lace until the train fanned out in perfect waves behind her. The delicate cap sleeves brushed her shoulders, and the bateau neckline fit like it had been made for her.
As she turned toward the mirror, I held my breath.
She was stunning in it. Simply stunning.
Eliza’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Lanie,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I think... I think this is it.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “Julian is going to lose his shit when he sees you in that.”
Eliza spun slowly, watching herself in the mirror and smiling. “When we come back next week, we have to pretend I didn’t try it on yet. I booked a session with my mother and the rest of the bridal party.”
“Oh, we’re doing this again?” I laughed.
She shrugged. “I want my mother to feel like we had this moment, but I needed to know what I wanted first. Does that make sense?”
“It does.”
She smoothed her hands down the sides of the dress, studying herself in the mirror again. “I feel like a bride in this dress—a beautiful one. How do I stop my mother from telling me everything that’s wrong with it?”
“Be honest with her?” I suggested, knowing how difficult that could be. It was something I was struggling with when it came to my own mother. “Gentle, but firm. She’ll understand. She was once a bride.”
Eliza nodded. “Should I invite Julian’s mother too?”
“If you want to.”
“I do. Even though I know she’ll cry. She says in her heart I’m already her daughter.”
“Does your mother get along with her?”
“They did—until we started planning the wedding. They’re not arguing, they’re just... tense around each other.”
Not knowing what else to say, I joked, “Will I need to pretend to be a bride again next week too?”
Eliza spun toward me, tulle cascading around her magically. “You’d do that for me?”
Before I had a chance to answer, she grinned. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you.”
I let out a relieved chuckle. I was fully invested in her wedding and wanted to support her in any way she needed, but one day of being a pretend bride while being painfully single was enough.
Later, as we drove back to Maplebridge, she paused from texting Julian to say, “How do you feel about ending the day with dinner at the place we’re thinking of having our bridal shower? We’d like to sample the menu.”
“I can always rally for food.”
“He invited Mark. Is that okay?”
The air in the car seemed to shift.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel.
“Eliza,” I started, regretting that I hadn’t told her I’d seen Mark. I should have. It wasn’t like I was keeping it from her—I just hadn’t known how to bring it up. Seeing him again didn’t fit the tone of our recent conversations.
I had told myself that seeing Mark again hadn’t upset me. I told myself I was mature enough to remain detached but...
Yay, you’re getting married.
Oh, by the way, I want to throat-punch Julian’s best man.
Mark’s last words to me in Portsmouth haunted me. A dare, he’d said—like I was some kind of joke. A joke—just like I’d been to those football players. Had I been that to him?
No. He had defended me—lost his spot on the soccer team because of me.
Looking back at all the time we’d spent together and the conversations we’d had, he had to have cared about me. So why come see me on a dare?
His brief visit replayed in my mind more times than I cared to admit. Every time I tried to brush it aside, some detail—his tone, the pained look in his eyes—would surface, leaving me off balance. I couldn’t make sense of it. Of him.
And now, I was going to have to face him again.
This time, with Eliza and Julian—people who didn’t deserve to have their happy day overshadowed by the complicated knot of feelings I was still trying to untangle.
I focused on the road ahead, keeping my voice calm. “That’s great. I can’t wait to see him.”
“Awesome.” Eliza sounded relieved, and I understood why.
Mark and I were both in the bridal party. If things weren’t good between us, that would be awkward for everyone.
She returned to texting Julian.
I didn’t know what I would say to Mark when I saw him, but one thing was certain—we needed to get on the same page.
Like me, he would have to put aside whatever he felt and look happy.
Or I’d rearrange his testicles.