14. Isabelle
The rooftop was perfect.
String lights crisscrossed overhead like constellations and turned everything golden. White flowers spilled from terracotta pots along the edges, their petals stirring in the breeze. The city spread out below us, glittering and distant, like something from a dream you wake from smiling.
Aria stood in the center of it all, a glass of champagne in her hand and a smile so wide it looked almost painful. "This is too much," she said for the third time. "You didn't have to do all this."
"We absolutely did," Kim said, adjusting the flower crown perched on Aria's head. "You're getting married. That requires celebration."
"Excessive celebration," Nalani added with a grin.
"Borderline absurd celebration," Priya agreed, raising her glass.
I watched from my spot by the gift table, arranging the wrapped boxes into a more aesthetically pleasing display.
The shower had come together beautifully, better than I'd hoped.
Every detail was right. The flowers, the food, the champagne chilling in silver buckets.
Even the weather had cooperated, delivering a cloudless sky and a breeze that was warm without being oppressive.
Forty-three guests filled the rooftop. Friends, colleagues, family. Women in spring dresses and statement jewelry, laughing and mingling and toasting to Aria's happiness.
"Okay, everyone!" Nalani clapped her hands, commanding attention with the ease of someone who did this professionally. "Time for our first game. Gather round, please."
The guests assembled in a loose circle, champagne glasses in hand. Aria was ushered to a decorated chair at the center—white cushions, more flowers, a hand-lettered sign that read "Bride to Be" in elegant script.
"This game is called 'How Well Do You Know the Groom,'" Nalani announced. "I asked Sebastian twenty questions about himself. Aria has to guess his answers. For every one she gets wrong, she drinks."
"That seems unfair," Aria protested, but she was smiling. "Sebastian is mysterious. He doesn't share things willingly."
"Sebastian is the least mysterious person I've ever met," I said. "He color-codes his calendar and alphabetizes his spice rack."
"That's organizational, not transparent."
"Same thing."
Nalani pulled out a stack of index cards. "Question one: What is Sebastian's greatest fear?"
Aria considered. "Failure. No—disappointing the people he loves."
Nalani checked the card, nodding with approval. "He said 'something happening to the people I care about.' Close enough. No drink."
"See? I know my man."
"Question two: What was Sebastian's most embarrassing moment?"
"Oh God." Aria pressed her hand to her mouth, trying not to laugh, but failing. "Is it the thing with the—at the conference in Dubai?"
"You'll have to be more specific."
"He ripped his pants. In front of three hundred people. The entire back seam just... gave up."
Nalani turned the card around with a flourish. "'Ripping my pants at the Dubai conference.' Correct."
The guests erupted in laughter. Aria was bright red but grinning, clearly delighted.
"Question three: What does Sebastian say is his best physical feature?"
"His hands," Aria answered immediately. "He's very proud of his hands."
"He said his jawline."
"What? No. That's ridiculous. His hands are beautiful. His jawline is just... a jawline."
"Drink."
Aria drank, still shaking her head. "I'm having words with him about this later."
The game continued. Aria got most answers right—his favorite meal (his mother's roast chicken), his hidden talent (he could juggle five balls), the first thing he noticed about her (her eyes, specifically the way they lit up when she was passionate about something).
She drank for a few misses—his celebrity crush (apparently someone from a show Aria had never seen), his dream vacation (she'd said Italy with confidence, he'd said Japan).
By the end, she was slightly tipsy and thoroughly delighted, cheeks flushed and laughter coming easily.
"Okay, next game," Priya announced with a mischievous grin. "This one is called 'Drink Every Time Aria Says Sebastian's Name.'"
Aria's eyes went wide. "That's not a game. That's a trap."
"It's definitely a trap," Kim agreed cheerfully. "That's what makes it fun."
"I can go five minutes without saying his name. Easy."
"Prove it. Tell us how you two met."
Aria opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, visibly censoring herself.
"We met in high school, but officially it all started at Evie's school. He was there to well… to get me fired. And he proposed this ridiculous thing… he wanted me to tutor Evie… wait for it, at his home.”
“Oooh, he was trying to get you alone,” Priya said.
Aria giggled. “Well… obviously I didn’t agree to that. We absolutely hated each other, until he bid on me at that charity event. It was for uhm…” she thought for a second. “I don’t remember. Anyways, he kissed me the night of our first date and the rest is history.”
"You didn't say his name once," Nalani observed. "I'm impressed."
"I'm a professional."
"Tell us about the proposal."
Aria's face softened, going tender at the memory. "Why? You were all there.” She wiggled her finger at us accusingly. “You’re trying to set a trap for me. Well, it’s simple.
I didn't realize what was happening until he reached into his pockets and—" She stopped abruptly, then pressed her lips together.
"Go on," Kim encouraged.
"Until... the man I'm marrying... stood up and got down on one knee."
"She almost said it," Priya announced. "I saw her mouth forming the S."
"I didn't say it!"
"You wanted to."
"Wanting doesn't count. I have self-control."
"Say his name," Kim urged. "Just once. We all want to drink, anyway."
Aria laughed. "Fine. Sebastian. Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian."
Everyone drank, cheering.
My phone buzzed in my clutch, vibrating insistently against my hip.
I glanced at the screen. Femi.
The laughter continued around me, but I stepped away from the group, moving toward a quieter corner of the rooftop where the music was softer.
"Hello?"
"Issy." His voice was warm through the line, familiar in that particular way that made my chest tighten. "How's the bridal shower going?"
"It's good. We're in the middle of games right now."
"That sounds lovely. I wish I could see you." A pause, weighted. "I've been thinking about you."
I pressed my fingers to my temple. "Femi..."
"I know. The break. I'm respecting it, I promise." A pause. "I just wanted to tell you—Sebastian’s bachelor party is tonight. It’s actually going to be quite tame. Just a few drinks and some games. I thought you'd want to know. For Aria’s peace of mind."
"That's good. She'll be relieved."
"I kept thinking about you the whole time." His voice dropped. "Missing you. Wondering what you were doing. If you were thinking about me, too."
I closed my eyes, conflict warring inside me. Part of me wanted to say yes, wanted to tell him I'd made a mistake, that we should forget the break and try again.
But another part—a larger, louder part—remembered why I'd asked for space in the first place.
"We're supposed to be on a break," I said quietly but firmly.
"I know. I know we are. I just needed to hear your voice, Issy."
"Femi—"
"I'm not pushing, I swear. I just... I miss you, Isabelle."
The silence stretched between us. I could hear the party behind me—laughter, music, the clink of glasses.
"I'm going to hang up now," I said.
"Wait—"
"Don't call me again until the break is over. You know I’m leaving for Milan after the bridal shower. We can revisit this after."
"Isabelle—"
"Goodbye, Femi."
I ended the call before he could respond, before I could waver. Stood there for a moment, staring at my phone, at his name still on the screen.
Had I made the right choice? Maybe I should have talked to him longer. Maybe I was being too harsh, too unforgiving. Maybe the break was a mistake and I was throwing away something real for reasons I couldn't even fully articulate.
But I couldn't think about that now. Aria's bridal shower was happening, and I needed to be present for her, not drowning in my own confusion.
I slipped my phone back into my clutch and returned to the party.
The afternoon unfolded in a blur of champagne and laughter.
We ate delicate finger sandwiches, fruit tarts, and a cheese board that disappeared within minutes. We danced—someone had made a playlist of Aria's favorite songs, and soon the rooftop was full of women swaying and spinning under the string lights.
Then came the gifts.
Aria sat in her decorated chair while we piled boxes in her lap one by one. She opened each one carefully, exclaiming over silk robes and scented candles and a set of lingerie that made her turn bright red while everyone hooted with laughter.
"This is from all of us," Kim said, handing her a large flat box. "Open it last."
Aria lifted the lid carefully. Inside was a photo album—leather-bound, embossed with her and Sebastian's initials.
The pages were filled with pictures we'd collected.
Aria and Sebastian at charity events. At family dinners.
Candid shots someone had captured when they weren't looking—his hand on her back, her head on his shoulder, the way they looked at each other when they thought no one was watching.
Aria's eyes filled with tears.
"You did this?" She looked around at all of us. "All of you?"
"Kim's idea," Priya said. "We just contributed photos and terrible commentary."
"I'm going to cry. I'm definitely going to cry." She was already crying, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. "I love you all so much. Thank you. For everything. For this whole perfect day."
"You deserve it," I said, my own throat tight. "Every bit of it."
"Group hug!" Nalani announced.
We descended on Aria in a tangle of arms and perfume and laughter. Someone knocked over a champagne glass. Someone else stepped on my foot. It didn't matter.
This was what mattered. This moment. These women. This celebration of love and friendship and new beginnings.