Chapter Thirty-One
Theo’s sister was not much of a traditionalist, but as they sat in the front row of white wooden chairs, the wedding march played out into the summer breeze.
“Georgia looks gorgeous, just wait until you see her dress, Teddy. It’s something out of a dream.
She just glows,” his mother said, sitting to his left.
Gladice Constantine had spent the morning hunkered down in the bridal suite, helping her daughter get ready, running back and forth across the venue snagging bottles of bubbly and asking anyone if they had blotting powder.
Now, she sat next to her son, her pale pink mesh hat protecting her face from the harsh sun, waiting for her only daughter to walk down the aisle and marry the man of her dreams. She squeezed Theo’s hand, shot Olivia an excited smile, her shoulders raising up as though her excitement was an atom deep.
One minute passed, the big smiles of the guests remained on their faces, despite the head turns and unsure looks. The groom had told the wedding planner to begin with the flower girl and bridesmaid’s walk, reassuring them that he would be there soon. Before the bride.
Olivia shifted in her spot, glancing forward at the pastor who was waiting patiently, bible in hand. Two minutes.
Olivia shifted in her seat, readjusting the small clutch she held in her hands and crossing her ankles.
The heels she had on were high, much higher than she normally wore, but with her five-foot nothing height, Georgia had ordered her a pair of six-inch heels with the simple explanation that the bridesmaids needed to be the same height as each other in photos.
Theo turned to his date, stunned once more by the way the fabric of her dress draped so perfectly over her frame, and curled an eyebrow at the front of the aisle. Pastor. Check. Groomsmen. Check.
Three minutes.
“I know your sister isn’t that traditional, and correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t the groom typically wait at the end of the aisle?”
Theo glanced over the crowd quickly. “He said he would be here.” Olivia knew better than to take his words at face value, her eyes drifting down to where his thigh had begun bobbing up and down, his inability to remain still echoing the nerves Olivia felt in her stomach.
After a few moments, the wedding planner came to a halt in front of all the guests, giving everyone a curt smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated, the ceremony is about to start any moment now, we have just run into a small hiccup. The bride and groom will be here shortly.”
Gladice glanced around, tilting her head in question at her husband who stood at the end of the aisle waiting to walk his daughter down it.
“What does that mean?” a guest sitting in the row behind them whispered to their plus-one.
“I’m not sure.”
“When will the groom get here? The wedding was supposed to start ten minutes ago,” another said.
“We’ll just have to be patient and wait, I’m sure they’ll be here any moment now,” Gladice turned and responded, trying to reassure the guests with the same motherly smile she had given to her son and Olivia earlier.
As if anything could justify the groom not waiting for his bride. Four minutes.
Theo narrowed his eyes.
A small hand grabbed his thigh and squeezed. “A hiccup?” Olivia’s face looked confused.
The wedding planner shifted from one foot to the other before letting out a short cough. “No, ma’am. Nothing is wrong, I promise the wait won’t be much longer.”
Another squeeze of his thigh.
“I’m going to check on the bride,” Gladice said under her breath as she stood, fixing her hat before hurrying down the aisle with determined steps.
“Something is wrong,” Olivia whispered.
Theo tried not to let the nervous feeling in his stomach make him run back up to the manor and drag Ross down the aisle to make his sister happy.
He covered Olivia’s small hand, his long fingers giving hers a squeeze as if to say, I’m alright.
Even though his worry was filling every vein in his body.
He wanted this day to be perfect for his sister, and as he sat there with Olivia, he got a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something was inherently wrong.
“Something is definitely wrong.” Olivia echoed his thoughts once again, this time more insistent.
Theo felt the same way. He turned to where his mother had got up from her chair and had scurried back up the aisle and into the manor house faster than Usain Bolt.
“This is like a Julia Roberts romcom,” a bridesmaid sneered in annoyance from the front. “My feet are hurting from standing up here so long. Where is Georgia?”
Theo pulled his phone out from his breast pocket.
Where the hell are you?
He sent the message to the groom, before waiting as he saw three little dots load onto the screen.
Be there soon, bro.
“Something must be holding them up. Ross said he’d be here soon,” Theo muttered, putting his phone back in his jacket pocket and giving a reassuring smile to Olivia, who looked about five seconds away from biting her nails off.
Five minutes.
Six minutes.
Seven minutes.
Gladice wandered down the aisle and took her seat once more, giving Theo a small, less assured smile. “Not long now.”
“Mum,” Theo started, a worried frown gracing his handsome face, “is everything okay?”
“Bride will be here soon,” she affirmed before someone patted her on the shoulder and she welcomed another guest with the same kilowatt smile as half an hour ago.
Ten minutes later the wedding march began playing for the second time.
“Finally,” the sore-footed bridesmaid whined.
“This is it,” Gladice whispered as they all stood and turned to the doors where Georgia stepped through, her arm wound around her father’s. The smile that brightened her face fell in the span of half a second, and Denis Constantine’s eyes narrowed into a deathly glare.
The bride was here, looking as beautiful and elegant as ever. The only problem?
The space where Ross should have been waiting to get the first glimpse of his future wife, the space where vows should be exchanged and promising kisses given, was empty.
The groom was nowhere to be seen
The flight back to London was bumpy. Harsh rain and heavy winds whacked against the side of the small plane, and Olivia had to imagine she was in jelly, bobbing up and down in the whirlwind of turbulence, and that it was a scientific fact – or at least she convinced herself it was – the plane wouldn’t suddenly just drop from the sky.
The seatbelt sign had been on the whole time, and somewhere during the flight Olivia found herself gripping Theo’s hand like her life depended on it.
It was almost as if the big man upstairs was having a laugh.
As if the non-existent wedding hadn’t been turbulent enough, and he had to shake things up even more to make everyone pray for the safe return to London.
Olivia had never been to Ireland before, and she hadn’t heard about the turbulent crossing of the Irish Sea.
Instead of complaining, Theo sat there, grasping her hand back, letting her squeeze the living daylights out of his firm grasp.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her, wincing in pain as her fingers dug into his in fear. “We’ll be back home in no time.”
After collecting their bags from the bag drop and hopping in a taxi, Olivia saw the crescent marks she had left in his arm and hand and instantly felt guilty. She apologised the whole way back to her apartment.
“I told you, it’s okay,” Theo said, lifting her bag up the stairs.
“But I feel terrible. Honestly, please let me get you some cream or a cup of tea. I feel so silly.”
He sent her a small smile, pulling her into his frame after settling the bags down by her front door. She curled into him, and they stood there embracing for a few moments. “You can hold my hand anytime, Livvy. Flight of death or not.”
Releasing a pent-up breath, she pulled back and unlocked her flat. The curtains had been left open during their short time away, the sky dark and luminous due to the unexpected dark rain clouds overhead.
“Can we talk about the elephant in the room? That was terrible. I almost feel physically sick,” Olivia groaned, flopping down on the sofa with a heavy, exaggerated thud.
The wedding had not happened, and everything essentially went to shit. The groom was still nowhere to be found. What was supposed to be Theo’s sister’s lucky day, had turned into the worst.
He dragged a hand down his face and huffed. “I feel the exact same way. In some ways you know, I feel responsible. She’s my baby sister. I should protect her.”
“You can’t protect her from heartbreak.”
“I wish I could go back. Grab that bastard by the scruff of his collar and drag him in, not just send that stupid text.”
Olivia was quiet for a moment. As awful as it was, maybe not marrying him was the best thing for Georgia. “Don’t do that to yourself. You did everything you could have.”
“I just wish I could have done more. This whole situation is messed up.”
Olivia glanced at the man before her. His crinkled shirt and dark circles under his eyes were a telltale sign of his rough weekend. She couldn’t remember a time when he had been this dishevelled.
Patting the spot beside her, she watched as his shoulders slumped, his body falling onto the sofa with the same defeated air as she had.
Their shoulders brushed, his broad frame taking up most of the space on the sofa.
But she didn’t mind. As far as they were both concerned this quiet apartment in east London was the most relaxing place to be.
The heavy rain did not look as though it was going to break anytime soon, and with a slight nudge, Olivia found herself doing the unexpected.
“You should stay here tonight. The weather’s crap and, to be honest, you look like you might fall asleep at any moment.”
“I really should get back—”
“Theo.” She sent him a pointed look. She was a woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer, not when someone needed help. If she knew there was an opportunity to help someone, she took the ball and ran with it all the way to the goal.
“Okay, fine. I’ll stay, but we should at least be productive.
” Theo turned his body towards Olivia’s until their thighs brushed against one another.
The grey daylight hit his face in a way that made him look like a 1940s film noir star.
All angular and mysterious. Even more handsome than she’d thought him to be.
“Deal.” Licking her lips, she listened to him begin a monologue about her novel heroine and her leading man, all the while trying to stop herself from memorising the gold flecks and various shades of brown in his eyes.