Chapter 4
Chapter Four
It was her wedding day.
She had woken up in the suite in the Painted Ridge Hotel and stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
She had thought that it was best for her and Alan to spend the night separately before the wedding, because it was romantic, and whatever else.
She had been living with him for a couple of years, so it was weird to suddenly have a crushing feeling of not having another morning like this.
Waking up alone in bed.
Shouldn’t that be a good thing? And it wouldn’t really be that different.
It wouldn’t be because they already shared a bed pretty much every night.
But she suddenly felt like the walls were closing in, and she chose not to dwell on that as she moved through the morning, slowly.
There was a little bridal room in the hotel, and at nine a.m. she made her way downstairs with her hair pinned up on her head, and gel patches underneath her eyes, and found all of her bridesmaids, her hairstylist, the makeup artist, and her dress, all waiting for her in the room.
She was wearing a silk robe that said bride on the back, and she knew that it was a terrible cliché, but how often was she going to do this?
Just the one time.
Just the one time, and then it was forever.
Just the one time, and then she would be a wife, not a bride, and everything would be settled.
It was like winning the game.
Because she wasn’t her mom, she hadn’t gotten married so young that she would wonder what else was out there, she had waited an appropriate amount of time, had given the relationship enough time to breathe before committing to walk down the aisle. And everything was going perfectly.
All the signs and synchronicity were working just as they should. Just as they had the entire time.
The wedding was coming together perfectly, and it had never been in danger of not coming together perfectly, no matter how many times she had changed things.
This morning was just another little hiccup.
That same little hiccup that had made her change the menu, the same little hiccup that had made her tweak the decorations, the settings, the exact venue, the mood.
And everything that she had asked to be changed, Walker had accommodated her.
And her fears had been quieted.
Because the wedding had to be perfect, and it was going to be.
And if something had fallen apart, maybe it would’ve been a sign that this wasn’t the –
This wasn’t the right thing.
She imagined her home, her life with Alan. How could she be having doubts? How could she even let herself consider that this might not be the right thing?
She couldn’t.
Because that was insane.
She had invested so many years of her life in this relationship, and they had a beautiful home, a beautiful life, and it was moving into being a bigger life, a more permanent life.
And maybe the fear of change was normal.
Maybe this little bit of uncanny valley, out-of-body experience before doing something that she couldn’t even imagine, was normal.
No, no maybe about it, it was normal. All of this was normal.
And it was not an action item.
She smiled broadly. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” her bridesmaids chorused cheerfully.
“How are you doing?” Anna asked.
“Good,” she lied.
Maybe it wasn’t a lie. Maybe it was perfectly reasonable that she was feeling a little bit of disquiet.
Maybe it was perfectly reasonable that she felt uncertain.
Because this was a big deal, and she was treating it like a big deal. Yes. That was it. It was normal.
Only people who didn’t take marriage seriously would feel completely settled on the day of their wedding. Anybody else would be sitting around thinking of the gravity of it.
Of this she was certain.
But she did her best to just keep chattering with her friends, not letting any of her reservations show.
Because why should she? They weren’t an action item, they were just the way she was feeling. Just a little bit. And it was not a sign or portent or anything like that.
Her hairstylist began working on her hair. Which required smoothing, then curling the ends, then fastening her glorious, eight-foot veil to her partial updo so that it flowed around her, creating the most glorious silhouette.
Her wedding dress was white, heavy satin that pillowed it out around her like a ball gown.
The corset waist made her look like a Disney princess, and she loved it; it was spectacular, and when her makeup was done and she was all dressed, her bridesmaids took pictures, filmed the dress from every angle, and she asked for them to send them to her so that she could do a post after the ceremony.
She did look beautiful. She did look like a bride.
She paused in front of the mirror and stared at herself.
It was like an out-of-body experience, like she was standing next to herself. She stood there, smoothing down the front of the dress unconsciously, running her fingers through her hair, and feeling a strange, hollow sense.
She’d never been married before, she’d never been a bride before, so of course it felt surreal. Of course it felt like something she couldn’t quite grasp hold of.
It was normal.
They had a photographer there snapping shots of them getting ready, and then it was time for the whole bridal party to go outside and get some photos.
They would take more afterward with the groom and with the groomsmen altogether.
The photographer brought her father over, and they took pictures out on the lawn with the mountains behind them, her and her dad.
She felt a little bit of giddy nervousness, knowing that she would be taking pictures with her mom next, because she felt strange about all of that.
That her mom hadn’t been in there getting ready with them, that she didn’t feel close enough to her to do that.
Now she wondered if that had been the right thing to do. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone off of her feelings of closeness, or the lack of them, but off of tradition.
Maybe she would regret not having her mother in there someday.
Her dad smiled down at her.
He was a handsome man, her dad, and looked great in his black suit, with his cowboy hat.
He wasn’t really a cowboy, but he definitely liked to dress in the western aesthetic, and there was a western component to the wedding.
She was getting married at a ranch after all, which was why she had ended up asking for Walker, and some of the others to escort the guests in with horses.
The whole thing was very upscale rodeo.
Though, she was wearing heels, not cowboy boots, because while she respected everyone’s right to the wedding aesthetic of their choice, she was not a fan of the boots and fancy dress. She hadn’t spent that much money on the dress – or rather her dad hadn’t – for her to put boots with it.
“This is all perfect,” he said, smiling down at her, and she felt elated.
She had done it.
She had, and this was the right thing to do.
Her dad was proud.
She could almost see the relief on his face.
She was everything he had wanted her to be, and that meant the world to her.
She was running for mayor, following in his footsteps, marrying a man that he approved of, and she had done it all without ever having a personal scandal.
It meant so much to her.
Like a choreographed dance, the photographer managed to maneuver her father out of the photo-taking area, and brought her mother in without the two of them interacting.
Addison’s heart sank.
The way that her mom felt a little bit like a stranger, the way that she felt uncomfortable, made her sad.
“You look beautiful,” her mom said, patting her on the cheek.
“Thanks. So do you.”
They posed together, and Addison’s heart hurt. She wanted to say something to her mom, something to help them connect, something to… something.
But she didn’t know what, and then it was time to end the photo-taking, because it was time to start the wedding.
And her thoughts were still consumed with the way she felt about her parents, the way that everything was coming together, but also that relationship with her mom that felt so… Fractured.
But all that really mattered was that she made it to this day.
It was the most important thing. The absolutely most important thing.
Lila Grayson was acting as the timekeeper for the wedding.
She was the one who was making sure they made their moves at the right moments in the music, that everyone was where they were supposed to be.
She wasn’t very personable, but she was exact, and everything that she did seemed to go off without a hitch.
There was a wall, draped with ivy, that served as a partition between the bridal party and the guests, and the groom. The groomsmen were there, arms linked already with her bridesmaids, ready to walk out upon Lila’s cue.
She hadn’t even seen the whole venue for the ceremony today, so that would be a surprise reveal for her when she came around the corner and saw her groom for the first time.
She wondered how all the flowers looked.
That was a strange thought.
Thinking about the flowers instead of Alan.
She was trying to accept that her brain was just in a strange place, and she needed to not overthink that.
It was just how she was feeling at the moment.
The music was a lovely, slow classical piece but with a country twist, a lap steel arrangement that made it feel western but elevated, just like everything else.
The bridesmaids began to walk out along with the groomsmen, and she held her breath, waiting for her cue.
Waiting for the music to shift.
The processional for the bridal party ended, and Lila gestured toward her, just as the country version of the bridal march began to play.
Addison emerged from behind the ivy wall, like a fairytale princess arriving at the ball, arms linked with her dad, as she caught sight of her groom for the first time.
Their eyes met and held. He was handsome in his tux, dark hair swept back off his forehead. She would wake up and see his face every day. She would go to sleep next to him every night.
Something like panic made her stomach squeeze tight and she searched his eyes, trying to find certainty.
She didn’t.