Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Willow
“Everything is falling apart,” Hartford exclaims, her voice tinged with panic. “I can’t believe this.” Her eyes glisten, looking like they could spill tears at any moment.
Anya, moving with determined urgency, rushes around the hotel room, searching every nook and cranny for Hartford’s veil. “It’s here… somewhere. I’m sure of it,” she reassures, her voice laced with a mixture of confidence and anxiety.
The room is a whirlwind of bridal chaos: open suitcases, scattered makeup, and dresses draped over chairs.
Anya flips through hangers in the closet, checks under the bed, and even peers into the bathroom, her mind racing through all the possible places the veil could be hiding.
Hartford sits on the edge of the bed, wringing her hands, her heart pounding in her chest.
“I swear, I saw it just a minute ago,” Felicity mutters, her brow furrowed in concentration as she sifts through the pile of clothes on the armchair.
Hartford takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the anxiety is palpable. The clock is ticking, and every second feels like an eternity. “What if we can’t find it?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I meet Hartford’s worried gaze. “We will find it,” I say firmly, a determined smile spreading across my face. “We promise.”
Just then, Anya lets out a triumphant shout. “Found it!” She holds up the delicate veil, waving it in the air like a victory flag.
Hartford’s face lights up with relief and gratitude, the tension melting away. “Oh my God, Anya, you’re a lifesaver!” She leaps up and hugs her friend tightly, her earlier panic forgotten.
Anya laughs, hugging her back. “I told you we’d find it. Now let’s get you ready to walk down that aisle and marry the love of your life.”
With the veil safely in hand, we all take a moment to breathe.
“Listen,” Hartford starts. “I appreciate every single one of you today. I never thought in a million years I’d be marrying Paxton Atwood. I’d dreamed I would, but never really believed it would actually happen. But here we are, and I’m a nervous wreck.”
Clara smiles. “Hartford, just breathe. As soon as you spot Paxton at the end of the aisle, that nervousness will melt away. Promise.”
Hartford smiles, tears welling in her eyes. “I don’t want to cry,” she says, leaning her head back and fanning her hands in front of her face. “No more mushy shit please.”
We all laugh, and Anya raises her champagne glass. “To no more mushiness.”
We all clink glasses and smile.
Hartford’s mother is finishing up the last of Hartford’s hair, curling her hair into beautiful tendrils that fall gently down her back.
“Wow, Hartford. You look beautiful,” I say, wondering if I’ll ever get married.
I honestly could never have pictured me walking down the aisle, until last night.
I woke up in the middle of the night from a dream.
I’d been dreaming about Brock standing at the end of the aisle, his boyish grin lighting up his face as I walked down a long aisle to meet him.
The look in his eyes said it all, and I remember being so happy in the dream.
Like I’d never wanted that feeling to end.
When I woke up, I glanced over at Brock. He was fast asleep, and I watched him, studying him. Listening to the sounds of his breathing as I thought about what a real relationship would look like. I nearly cried thinking about it all.
I snuggled up closer to him, and fell asleep, wrapped in his arms, and I realized at that moment I was falling in love with him.
It’s crazy, right?
I wish there was somebody I could talk to about it. I wish I could talk to Anya about it, but she’d never understand. Would she?
I feel like I need advice. I need to know how to tell Brock my feelings for him have changed. That I want this to be real.
What would he think about it?
“Are you okay?” February asks me as everyone else in the room chatters away. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”
“Can you keep a secret?”
February leans in closer. “Always.”
I trust February. We met when she moved to Magnolia Ridge with her then-boyfriend, Harrison. Now they’re married, and I couldn’t be happier for her. “How did you know Harrison was the one?”
Feb smiles wide. “Honestly, I think it’s a feeling you get when you look at him. When I see Harrison my whole world lights up. I get this ache deep in my chest like I never want him to leave.”
I nod, recognizing the aching feeling because that’s how I felt last night while watching Brock sleeping. “Ah, I think I get it.”
February winks. “If it helps I think Brock is feeling the same way about you that you are about him.”
“Really?” I ask her. “How can you tell?”
“The way his face lights up when you walk into a room.”
He could just be a good actor, I want to say, but would never. “Oh,” I say instead.
Before I can answer her my phone lights up. I grab it, glancing down at the group thread I have with my brothers. My five older brothers. Who are currently back in Magnolia Ridge taking care of the Moore Restaurant. It’s family-owned, and it’s where I work as a hostess manager.
“Excuse me,” I tell February, turning away so I can read the influx of messages coming through my phone.
Jasper: Just saw online that you’re dating Brock Atwood, is this true?
Oliver: Please tell me you’re not planning on marrying him in Vegas.
Me: Where would you even get an idea like that?
Being the youngest of five brothers is sometimes a challenge. To say they’re overprotective of me is an understatement.
Me: And yes, we’re dating.
I hate lying to my brothers, but I can’t let anyone know this is fake. I can just tell my brothers we broke up whenever I get back home. I’m sure they’ll threaten to kick Brock’s ass, but I’ll need to make sure my brothers know that it was my idea to split.
If we even split at all.
Maybe, just maybe Brock feels the same way I do, and he’ll want to keep this going too.
Kai: Lil’ sis, we’ll need to talk with him when both of you return from Vegas. Don’t do anything stupid like get married on a whim.
I laugh. Leave it to my older brothers to expect the worst. Like I said, overprotective.
Hendrix: We’re happy for you. Brock is a stand-up guy, and the Atwoods are great people. Congrats.
Miles: I agree. I’ve always kind of suspected you two had a thing for each other.
Miles is the closest to me in age. And he’s actually the one who was in school with all the Atwoods, even though Brock is younger than me. Miles used to hang out with the Atwoods and was even invited to this wedding but couldn’t make it because of work.
Miles isn’t the first person to suspect Brock and I have always had feelings for each other. Do other people see something we can’t? Does Brock really like me?
It sure feels like he does when he kisses me.
Nothing about this fake relationship feels fake anymore.
Hartford breaks me from my thoughts. “It’s time, y’all. I’m a nervous wreck, but I’m also so ready to get this over with. I can’t wait to become Mrs. Paxton Atwood.”
I brush a tear away from my cheek as I stare at Hartford.
She’s stunning in her dress—a vision of elegance and grace.
The gown is a masterpiece of delicate lace and soft satin, hugging her figure perfectly and flowing into a breathtaking train that trails behind her.
The bodice is intricately beaded, catching the light with every movement, while the off-the-shoulder neckline frames her collarbones beautifully.
Tiny pearls are sewn into the lace, adding a touch of timeless sophistication.
Her hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down her back, adorned with small, sparkling pins that catch the light. The veil, now perfectly in place, falls softly around her shoulders, completing the ethereal look. She holds a bouquet of white roses and lilies, and it’s all so perfect.
Hartford takes a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. “I’ve imagined this moment so many times,” she says softly, her voice trembling slightly. “And now it’s finally here.”
“You look absolutely breathtaking,” I tell her, my voice thick with emotion. “Paxton is going to lose it when he sees you.”
She smiles, a mixture of joy and apprehension playing across her features. “Let’s go make it official,” she says, her grip tightening around the bouquet. “I’m ready.”
With that, we gather ourselves, taking one last look around the room.
The anticipation is electric, and as we step out into the hallway, the enormity of the moment settles over us.
Hartford’s dress glides along the floor, and I can’t help but feel a swell of pride and happiness for my friend as we make our way to the ceremony that will change her life forever.