19. Sutton
Chapter nineteen
Sutton
“Want to put your dress on?” Becca asks.
My stomach rolls, and I close my eyes and take a few shaky breaths. I barely slept last night. I want to say it was because I was sleeping in a different bed, since I stayed here at Becca and Holt’s, but really, I think it was a combination of nerves and anxiety.
I blink open my eyes. “I-I think so.”
“You can change your mind,” she whispers, taking my hands in hers.
I give her a small smile. “It’s not that.”
“What is it then?”
I swallow. How do I tell her how I feel? That this is all beginning to feel real. Even though Sebastian and I haven’t shared more than a few hugs.
“I’m just nervous,” I finally settle on, not a complete lie. “This has turned into a bigger event than I was expecting.”
“Do you want to do something else? Go to the courthouse? Want me to kick everyone out except you two and the Justice of the Peace?”
I guess we could, but it’d be a shame to waste everything our friends have helped us organize in the past few weeks.
The cake Madison made, the food that’s been catered, and the alcohol too.
Plus, the hair and makeup that I and the rest of the ladies just sat through.
All the pretty dresses and tuxedos. A big part of me wants to celebrate with my friends, walk down the aisle, get married, be someone’s wife.
If only for a short time. Even if it is a farce.
“No. I need this to be believable, and I’ve kind of been looking forward to it.” I give her a sad smile. “That feels pathetic to say out loud since the marriage is fake.”
“It’s not. You’re allowed to be happy and excited for today.” I nod. She points to where my dress hangs on the door of the closet. “Do you want help? Or I can leave.”
“You can stay.”
My dress is fairly simple, most of the detailing being in the lace sleeves that go to my wrists and the lace that runs around the front and down the V of the neckline. Becca helps me with the zipper once I’ve stepped into it.
“You look gorgeous,” she says, taking a step back and eyeing me up and down.
There’s a knock on the door, and then Madison’s muffled voice comes from the other side. “Can we come in?”
“Yes,” I answer.
The door opens, and Madison, Hadley, and Ansley step into the room, all wearing different styles of navy-blue dresses, their hair and makeup on point.
“He’s going to lose his mind,” Ansley says, giving me a once-over.
My face heats up. “No, he won’t.”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t pick out that dress with him in mind,” Hadley says.
“I didn’t.” Lies. “It was pretty, and in my size, and it has pockets.” I put my hands into the pockets, holding the dress out so they can see them.
“Pockets for the win,” Madison says.
“Oooh, I’m adding pockets to the list of things I need in my wedding dress,” Hadley says.
“Did you and Wes settle on a date?” Ansley asks.
This past summer, Wes and Hadley pretended to be engaged but fell in love for real.
My goodness, this team and its love of faking romance.
First, Aubrey and Brody with their fake dating, then Wes and Hads being fake engaged, and now me with my fake marriage.
Technically, I guess mine’s real. But still.
“Kind of. We decided to have it this summer, and we’re going to keep it small, like this.”
“Let me know what kind of cake you want, and I’ll make it for you,” Madison offers.
“You mean cakes? Because knowing my fiancé, one won’t be enough.”
We all laugh. Wes has a massive sweet tooth. There’s another knock on the door, and Ansley opens it.
Aubrey pokes her head in. “We’re ready for you.”
“Thank you,” I tell her before turning back to my friends. “Thank you all for being here. Helping me with this.”
“Of course. Nowhere else we’d rather be,” Becca says as she gives me my bouquet—a simple arrangement of Calla Lilies wrapped in a white satin ribbon.
“We’re happy to do it,” Madison adds.
“Agreed,” Ansley says.
“What they said,” Hadley says, pointing at the others.
I smile at my friends, before nodding. “I’m ready.”
Madison leads the way, the other ladies filing out ahead of me. When I step out into the hallway, Holly is standing there.
“You came,” I whisper. I’d have understood if she hadn’t, but I’d hoped she would. I haven’t heard from her since the bachelorette party two nights ago, so I wasn’t sure whether she was coming or not.
“We’ll give you a minute,” Becca says and shoos the others down the stairs.
“Of course I came.” Holly steps closer to me, reaching out to squeeze my arm. “You’re my friend.”
“I know, but I wasn’t sure …” I swallow. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I cringe, staring down at the floor. “Maybe not, but I feel like I did.”
“Why?”
I jerk backward, heart racing. “Because I was actively trying not to get pregnant, and we all know how that turned out, and you’ve struggled …”
“Sutton, listen to me very closely.” I finally meet her eyes. “Me not being able to get pregnant is not your fault. Just because you did doesn’t mean I never will.”
“I know, but when I found out, I felt so guilty.” I fan my face with the hand not holding my flowers, swallowing back the tears. “So many women try to get pregnant and can’t, and here I was one and done.” I shake my head.
“I can’t speak for everyone who is struggling to conceive, but I can speak for myself—I’m not mad or upset at you.
” She steps closer to me. “I’m sad I haven’t been able to have a baby, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you having one.
I’m so proud of you, Sutton. I hope you know that.
You’re going to make a wonderful mom.” I blink back tears.
Do not cry. Do not cry. “I’m sorry if I didn’t handle the news the best the other night. ”
I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders hearing her say those words, that she isn’t upset or angry at me for being pregnant when she’s struggling.
“I’m sorry I sprung the news on you.”
“Apology accepted. Now come on, let’s get you married.”
I follow her down the stairs and into the living room where we find the rest of the ladies crowded in front of the sliding glass door, staring outside.
“What are we looking at?”
“Our husbands,” Madison says with a dreamy sigh.
“Or soon-to-be husbands,” Becca adds.
My eyes widen. Does this mean they’re engaged? I glance at the others who are all starting to register Becca’s words.
“Are you?” Hadley asks, breaking the silence.
Becca blushes. “He asked me a few nights ago.” She turns to me. “I didn’t want to take away from your big day, so we haven’t said anything.”
“I’m so happy for you two. You deserve your happily ever after.”
Hadley squeals and throws herself into Becca’s arms. “I’m finally going to get the sister I’ve always wanted.”
Becca grins, patting Hadley on the back. “We can celebrate later. Let’s get Sutton married.”
As we’re about to step out the door, Coach Weaver, Jake, walks inside, his gaze settling on me.
“Can I have a moment with Sutton?”
“You all go ahead. We’ll be right out,” I say, and the ladies walk out the back door, leaving Jake and I alone.
He shifts on his feet, fiddling with his cuff links. “I hope this isn’t out of line.” I raise my eyebrows. “Would you—do you want me to walk you down the aisle?”
“Excuse me,” I say, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly.
I’ve always seen Jake like the father figure I wish I’d had.
I’ve always looked up to him, the way he leads the team, the way he treats those around him, from the janitors to the security staff to the players and the other coaches, with so much respect.
He blushes. “Shit. Sorry.” He puts a hand up. “I just thought I’d offer seeing as, well, you know. If I was out of line, I apologize.”
“I’d like that,” I blurt out. “I—it crossed my mind to ask, and then I didn’t know how to.”
He beams. “I’d be honored.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, slipping my hand through his arm, and we step outside.
“I got you,” he says as we make our way slowly down the aisle.
Everyone gets to their feet as the wedding march begins.
You can do this.
It’s fine.
We make our way to where Sebastian is waiting for me under a beautiful arch decorated with flowers and navy ribbons. My heart skips a beat at the sight in front of me.
If I thought he was attractive before, he’s even hotter now, dressed in a black tuxedo that fits him like a glove. He’s grinning at me as I step closer. He takes me in, his smile growing. A tiny part of me is happy that he likes what he sees. Who am I kidding, more than a tiny part, a big part.
Jake turns to me when we reach the front where Sebastian and the Justice of the Peace are waiting and squeezes my hand before stepping back to take his seat.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, love. I’m having a hard time behaving myself,” Sebastian whispers.
My face heats up, and the Justice clears their throat. We turn to them, Sebastian taking my hand in the process. We opted to use traditional vows since, after all, this isn’t a marriage of love but rather of convenience.
Once we’re pronounced husband and wife, Sebastian steps closer to me. “Tell me now if you don’t want me to kiss you, and I’ll fake it.”
My breath hitches. Do I want him too?
Yes.
Is it a good idea?
Probably not.
“Love?” he prompts.
I close the distance between us, leaning up and brushing my lips against his.
I go to pull away, but he tugs me closer and kisses me deeper, and I let him.
I let myself enjoy this, because why not.
His mouth is soft but firm against mine.
It’s a searing kiss. A promise. A promise of what exactly, I’m not sure, but nonetheless a promise.
Cheering and whistling break out, and we pull away from each other. Sebastian chuckles as he tucks me into his chest and turns us to face the crowd, waving. I close my eyes for a brief second, needing to ground myself.
This isn’t real.
This isn’t real.
So why does it feel like it is?
I push those thoughts down and open my eyes.
“You ready, wife?”
I shiver at the endearment. He clocks it, his expression filled with desire.
“I am, husband.”
He inhales sharply before taking my hand, and we make our way down the aisle to the cheering and clapping of our friends.
The rest of the afternoon is a blur of talking, eating good food, and being with good people, and I pretend just for a little while that this is real. That it’s me, Sebastian, and our baby against the world now, because a growing part of me wants that to be the case.
I’m falling for my fake husband, and I don’t know what to do about it. Because I can’t have him. At least not for forever.