Chapter Eighteen
The bright lights that have been set up by the photographers to capture every moment of Larisa getting ready to walk down the aisle are giving me a slight headache.
I get up from the rose-colored couch and start to pace around the room.
“Is everything alright, hon?” Jo asks me. “You look a little pale.”
“Do I? Maybe it’s this corset,” I reply, running my hands down the sides of the corset, feeling its luxurious fabric.
“Do you want me to loosen it up a bit for you?” she asks me.
“No, no. It’s fine. Thanks.”
“You look amazing, though, Em.”
“Thanks … I’m glad Larisa listened to us and picked these bridesmaids’ dresses,” I reply. “They really are stunning.”
I move a few steps closer to the gigantic mirror that has been placed in the middle of the room and admire myself. Immediately, the photographer starts to take pictures of me, eager to capture every second of this wedding.
The rose toned corset feels like butter against my skin. It has a formidable gold pattern that captures the light in a mesmerizing way. From the waist to the floor, a silk and tulle dress in the same shade of rose envelops me like a cloud. The scalloped hem of the dress is gold, truly making this the dress of dreams.
“I feel like a princess in this dress,” I tell Jo while the photographer keeps acting as if I’m some sort of movie star.
“You should. It’s wonderful,” she replies and smooths down the hem of her own dress. Even though the colors are the same, the design is not. Larisa wanted us to match as bridesmaids, but not wear the exact same thing. Jo’s dress is more demure with a mermaid design and no corset. She looks amazing and elegant as ever.
A door on the right opens and Larisa walks out.
Immediately, everyone in the room starts to clap and fawn over her. Larisa’s mother starts to cry instantly, while her father jumps to hug her. “Oh, my goodness, pumpkin. You look incredible. I’m so happy for you.” Her father weeps.
“We’re so proud of you, Larisa!” her mother says before kissing her.
Larisa is truly radiant. Her wedding dress is exquisite. The white brocade is heavily embroidered with floral appliqués that have been applied by hand just for her. In the back, a cathedral train, made entirely of charmeuse and chiffon, trails behind her a few feet, making her look like a vision from a picture book.
Jo and I rush to Larisa and hold the train up, so it doesn’t get dirty. “Larisa, you are … stunning. You look amazing. The most beautiful bride ever!” we both tell her.
“Guys, please … you’re gonna make me cry!” she says, and I can see tears forming in her eyes.
Jo and I put our hands around Larisa and hug her tightly, savoring this moment between just us girls—together, the way we’ve always been. The emotional moment feels draining, but we do our best.
“Come on, time to become Mrs. Gianluca Ferraro!” Jo says, taking her by the hand.
Outside, in the large garden of the old inn that Larisa has chosen for this special occasion, the atmosphere is surreal.
Jo and I stand side by side holding our bouquets of roses, and waiting for the wedding planner to kick off the event and give us the green light to walk down the aisle.
From the back of the crowd, I look around and can hardly process what I’m seeing. The most famous people in the world have gathered in this garden and are sitting on white wedding chairs only a few steps away from me. The sight is so wild that I feel as if I’m in a dream.
“Oh, my goodness, is that … Tom Holland and Zendaya?” I ask Jo, struggling not to point.
“Yup. Since Gianluca is such a famous actor, they’re all here,” she replies, a lot more casually than me.
“Oh, look, that’s … holy cricket, that’s Beyonce! No way!” I cover my mouth with my hand and stare at the gorgeous woman, impossibly beautiful, and wearing a gold dress.
“Yup. And that’s Timothee Chalamet on the other side there. See? In the black and blue suit?”
“No way! Wow, he looks even more handsome in person…”
“Yes. He’s very sweet, too. You should go talk to him after this. I hear he’s single,” Jo tells me casually.
I snort and start to laugh. “Me?? Talk to Timothee Chalamet? And what would I say to him, exactly?”
“Umm … Hi, my name is Emmy. Nice to meet you?” she replies sarcastically.
“Yeah, right. So, he can laugh in my face? Get out of here!” I laugh.
Jo looks at me like I’m an alien. “Why would he laugh in your face? I told you, he’s a really nice guy, and he’s … Emmy, what’s wrong? What are you looking at?”
I feel as though my whole body has seized up and become rigid.
Suddenly, it feels like there’s a giant chasm opening up in front of me, and all I can do is fall through the darkness and nothingness. Jo looks at me and then follows the direction of my stare.
Evan has just come into the garden to attend Larisa’s wedding.
But he’s not alone.
Carol is with him.
My heart sinks as I see them holding hands and wearing matching outfits, walking boldly between the aisles, trying to locate their seats.
“Oh, no. Emmy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was coming. I mean, I knew he was invited, of course. But that was back then when you guys … I mean … I thought he wasn’t going to show up. Least of all with her. I would’ve told Larisa to do something about it,” Jo rushes through her sentences to try and comfort me.
I feel tears forming in the corner of my eyes, but I know that I can’t let that happen. This is not the time, nor the place.
“Are you alright?” Jo asks me again.
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. Look, Larisa deserves a great wedding and most certainly a drama-free one. I’m not going to lie, I’m not happy that Evan is here and … with her. But what’s done is done. We’re all adults. I knew that sooner or later I’d have to face them as a couple. I just didn’t think it would be at my best friend’s wedding,” I tell her.
She rubs my arm in an effort to comfort me, but it doesn’t help.
All I can do is stare at Evan and Carol, now seated somewhere in the middle row, side by side, heads close to each other, talking and smiling. An icy and painful grip forms at the top of my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. It’s funny how the disappointments of the heart can cause physical pain. It’s as if emotions can take shape and pierce you or even damage your very body.
Weird how it only happens when you’re sad.
The wedding planner approaches us from behind. “Alright, ladies, it’s time. Just like we rehearsed, alright? You ladies will go first, separately, of course! Then Clem will follow behind as the flower girl!” she adds, joined by a nervous laugh.
We nod and get ready to start the ceremony. Clem emerges from somewhere behind the refreshments bar where I know she’s been hiding to FaceTime with her new boyfriend. A teenager now, she looks sweet and joyful, radiating a youthful calm.
“Hey! Are we ready, then?” she asks, her words a bit slurred because of her new braces.
“Yes, darling. Here’s your basket of rose petals. Just like we rehearsed, alright?” Jo tells her.
“Sure, mom!” Clem says.
“Uh-oh. Leave your phone with the wedding planner, please. Dalton can stay here!” Jo tells her.
Clem rolls her eyes a little but does as she’s told. “Fine…”
“If you wanted him to be here so badly, you should’ve invited him,” Jo jokes.
“I did! He’s in Paris with his parents. His mom is getting a new nose and—”
“Alright,” Jo interjects. “Now’s not the time. The wedding is about to start! Larisa and I will go first, and you’ll follow behind, alright?”
“Okay, mom. Wish me luck!”
“Good luck, darling!” we both tell Clem before lining up to take our spots in the procession. Jo is joined by her husband, Jacob.
Meanwhile, I’m left to try and process the fact that I’m about to walk down the aisle with none other than Chris Evans.
I knew that he was going to be one of Gianluca’s groomsmen and that he’d be accompanying me, but actually doing it in real life is proving far more difficult than I thought.
The actor steps closer to me and, very gallantly, offers me his arm. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders, a gorgeous physique, and very gentle baby-blue eyes.
Standing next to him, I finally understand why some people seem to be born to become famous movie stars.
He has that je ne sais quoi. That X-factor. That indescribable charm that is simply magnetic.
“Good afternoon. It’s Emmy, isn’t it? I’m Chris. So nice to meet you!” he introduces himself to me as if he’s not one of the most famous men in the world.
“Yes. It’s Bemmy. Memmy. Emmy!! Gosh … my name is Emmy. And you are Chris Evans,” I mumble and stumble.
“That’s my name, yes.” He laughs.
It’s so surreal to be next to him.
We start walking down the aisle, my arm linked with his. Somehow, even though I’m arm-in-arm with one of the most handsome, most famous, and most desired men in the world, my eyes are glued to one person—Evan.
He’s looking up at me, surprise in his face.
Surely, he was not expecting to see me casually strolling with Captain America.
Carol reaches out and takes his hand as if to show me that she won. Evan is hers. I try not to let that small gesture get to me and walk on.
Evan’s eyes burn through me, his gaze a flame that pierces my heart. He looks me up and down and fixates on me with his stare. All the while Carol is trying to engage him in conversation. But she’s unsuccessful.
“It was nice to meet you, Emmy,” Chris tells me right before we reach the end of the aisle.
I look into the blue eyes of this famous and incredible man, and all I can think about is Evan.
All I want is Evan.
For me, there is no one else.
“Nice to meet you too,” I tell him in a daze, unable to think about anything other than the fact that the man I’m in love with is sitting only a few feet away, holding hands with a woman whom I thought was my friend.
Chris and I take our places and Larisa is announced.
The entire wedding party is asked to stand as she makes her glorious, royal entrance. The minutes pass in the blink of an eye as the ceremony proceeds. Larisa and Gianluca hold hands, look into each other’s eyes, and say their vows.
“You are the one. You are my soulmate. When I’m not with you, my heart yearns and cries—my soul is lonely. I love you.”
I look toward Evan. He meets my gaze and, for a moment, it’s as if our hearts connect again, as they once did, when we were young, when we were children.
Perhaps we weren’t able to understand each other, but our hearts did.
Next to him, Carol is fuming.