Chapter Three Kelsie
Wallowing in self-pity had never been my style.
After leaving Damien’s room and allowing myself a good cry, I picked myself up off the floor and started to get ready for the day.
Leanne wanted all of the women in the wedding party and some members of the family to go with her to visit a winery on the island.
We were supposed to choose a local wine to be served at the wedding reception, and the winery on the island was famous for its high-quality and unique craftsmanship.
At least, that was what Leanne said. I couldn’t really tell a good wine from a bad one. On the rare occasions that I bought a bottle, I usually just went with the cheapest one at the grocery store.
But this was an important outing to Leanne, and I wasn’t going to miss it, even if my input was unlikely to be helpful.
I spent the rest of the morning pulling myself together. Shower, a light breakfast, and some Ibuprofen to help with my pounding hangover headache got me feeling mostly normal. Physically.
My mind and my heart were still a mess, but by the time I met the rest of the women in the lobby of the resort, I’d already started to try to get past it, attempting to tuck my romantic feelings for Damien into a box and duct-tape it shut so that I could function.
Until now, Damien had played a starring role in the story of my life.
I thought he was my leading man, but I was wrong.
Damien didn’t want that. He was a supporting character all along.
A friend and confidant, but not my happy ending.
Compartmentalizing like that wasn’t easy for me, and my chest still felt like there’d been a hole punched through it, but I plastered a smile on my face as I joined the group of women.
There was another bridesmaid, Leanne’s friend Angela, and a matron of honor named Jess.
Jess had been best friends with Leanne since high school, and she was the only one of us who was married.
Her husband doted on her, and he was in the lobby when I arrived, hugging Jess goodbye as if they were going to be separated for days instead of hours.
It was sweet and cringey in equal measure.
I was jealous.
Leanne also invited the female family members on this outing.
My mother and hers were there, and the two of them looked like twins as they stood side-by-side, even though my mother was three years younger.
My Aunt Cathy had the kind of voice that carried, and I could hear her halfway across the lobby talking about a delay with the delivery of the wedding flowers, stress lining her features.
She wasn’t just the mother of the bride; she was an event planner, and she’d been instrumental in the planning of this wedding.
“Is everything okay over there?” I asked as I came to stand beside Leanne, nodding toward our mothers.
Leanne grimaced. “It’ll be fine. You know how mom is. Everything is the end of the world with her.”
I chuckled. “What happened?”
“The florist was supposed to send the flowers Thursday, and a local flower shop was going to arrange the bouquets and make the arrangements for the centerpieces. Now, the florist is saying that there’s a delay and the flowers won’t be here until Friday evening.”
My jaw dropped. “But the wedding is Saturday.”
Leanne rolled her eyes as she smiled. “I think I know that, Kelsie. But I’m sure it’ll all work out.”
Leanne was the opposite of a stressed-out bridezilla. During the entire planning process, she didn’t scream or cry or make any unreasonable demands. She was just happy to be getting married to the man she loved.
And there was that jealousy again.
A week’s worth of celebrating a wedding wasn’t the best time to realize that the man I wanted to be with didn’t feel the same way about me, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
I just shoved that duct-taped box further into the dark corners of my mind and committed to pretending that everything was fine.
We were also joined by my other aunt, who was married to my mom’s brother, and Ryan’s twenty-one-year-old cousin, Kirsten. I didn’t know her well, but she had a pierced nose and a seemingly permanent scowl on her face. Looking around, I noticed that Ryan’s sister wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Where’s Zoey?” I asked.
Leanne shrugged. “She just texted me this morning saying that she wasn’t up for joining us. Maybe she drank too much last night.”
I didn’t remember seeing her drink any alcohol at the bonfire, but I didn’t mention it. Since Zoey wasn’t joining us, I seemed to be the last one to arrive.
We all headed to the winery. The resort sat at the southern tip of the island, and there was a rainforest between it and the vineyard.
Then, there was a mountain that once housed a volcano to the north.
According to the tourist information about the island that the resort provided, tectonic plates had shifted, cutting the volcano off from its magma source long ago.
The vineyard was built on the drier slope of the old volcano where the mountain itself blocked excess rain.
The road leading up the slope was winding, cutting through the dense rainforest until the trees fell away, and the vineyard was revealed.
I stared at thousands of grapevines in perfect rows under the bright sun.
It was neat and orderly, so different from the chaotic rainforest we just passed through.
Beyond the vines, the winery stood. It was built from dark rock and hardwood, seeming to almost grow out of the side of the mountain. The sign above the entrance read Basalt and Bloom Winery.
We were in a shuttle, and the driver parked directly in front of the building. As we stepped out, I noticed that the air here was different, sweeter and less briny than it was down by the shore.
Inside, we were led to a tasting room at the back of the building. The entire back wall was made of glass, allowing for a stunning view of the nearby vines and the ocean in the distance. I glanced out and wondered if one of the boats I could see out on the water contained the guys.
Not that I was thinking about Damien. Not at all.
Something bitter pulsed through my veins, and I knew that I was kidding myself. It was going to take more than a couple of hours to get over this.
“Kelsie, come take a seat,” Leanne called out, and I saw that the other women were all sitting around a table that looked like it was made of driftwood.
Several crystal glasses sat in front of each seat, and there was a charcuterie board in the middle of the table with cured meats, cheeses, olives, nuts, and dried fruit.
Conversation flowed easily as the tasting started. The sommelier started us with a white wine, putting a small amount in each glass that he called a tasting portion. I took a sip, not expecting to have much of an opinion on the wine either way, but my eyebrows popped up in surprise.
I expected the same puckering old grape taste that I usually associated with wine, but this was more nuanced. The wine was smooth on my tongue, and the taste reminded me of yellow peaches. It was light, as if the winery had somehow bottled summer itself.
I liked it.
The next wine was red and completely different from the first. It was thick, and the moment it hit my tongue, I felt like all the moisture had been removed from my mouth. The taste itself wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t necessarily good either. It was… woody.
I swallowed it but left the rest of the small portion in my glass, not wanting to finish it. So far, my vote was the first wine option.
The tasting went on with three other wines offered. The sommelier gave a brief description of each one as he poured it into our glasses.
“A dry rosé with subtle notes of strawberry and rose petals.”
“An oaked Chardonnay with a smooth and heavy texture.”
“This last one is a dessert wine, which you’ll find to be sweet and syrupy.”
I tried them all while chatting with the others about the wedding, but the first wine remained my personal favorite. This whole experience was more fun than I expected it to be, and I felt a light buzzing in my head by the time we sampled the last wine and the charcuterie board was empty.
The majority of the group favored the Chardonnay, so that was Leanne’s choice of wine for the wedding. She was led into another room to place her order for bottles to be delivered to the resort on Saturday morning.
Aunt Cathy went with her while the rest of us stayed at the table. Without her sister to talk to, my mom’s attention turned to me.
“You know, Kelsie, I heard that one of Ryan’s groomsmen is a single doctor.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t even think about it, Mom.”
“What? I’m not thinking anything,” she said, her eyes going a little too wide as she tried to look completely innocent. “I just didn’t know if you had a chance to meet the man at the bonfire. He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re interested in him? I didn’t know you were a cougar.”
Her cheeks immediately turned rosy red. “N-No! I just thought that maybe you and he…”
I chuckled. I knew she’d get flustered if I turned this around on her. “Ah. So, you’re trying to play matchmaker. Just forget about it. I’m not interested in the guy just because he’s a successful doctor.”
“Are you talking about Ford?” Leanne chimed in as she returned to the room and settled into the chair beside me. “He’s a good guy, Kels.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. Leanne was the only person I’d ever told about my feelings for Damien, and there was a teasing glint in her eyes that told me she was messing with me by suggesting that I pursue Ford.
“I’m sure he’s a prince among men,” I said. “But I’m still not interested.”
Mom frowned. “It’s been a while since you dated anyone.”
“Over a year,” Leanne said.
Now, I was glaring at her. It had actually been almost two years, but I wasn’t going to admit that.
The same pain that I felt this morning came back around as I thought about the reason that I’d been single for so long.
It wasn’t because I didn’t have offers. There were men that had asked me out in that time, but I never accepted because I was holding onto hope that something would happen with Damien, that our friendship would grow into more.
All this time, I thought we were laying a foundation to build on. I was a fool.
“I worry about you being lonely,” Mom said, and I wanted to dismiss that as nonsense, but I knew that she was coming from a place of experience.
She’d been alone since my dad passed away from a car accident ten years ago.
I was a senior in high school then, and it was hard on both of us, but I went to college a year later, giving me a chance to move past the heartache of loss as I moved out of my childhood home.
Living in a dorm room and having new experiences helped me get through that difficult time.
But I felt guilty for leaving my mother behind, knowing that she never moved on from my father. The last thing I wanted was for her to worry about me.
“I just signed up for a dating app,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll find someone on there.”
The concern melted from my mother’s face, and I knew that the little lie was worth it. But I couldn’t help thinking that maybe I should sign up for one. It was time to move on from pain again.