Chapter 4
Aubrey
Don’t cry over a veil. Don’t cry over a veil. Don’t cry over a veil.
I gather up the fabric of the skirt of my dress, repeating the words as I rush down the hill. But it’s no use—the tears are freaking waterfalls down my cheeks, and I can’t stop chanting my veil, my veil, my veil.
I have to get it. I can’t let it drift away downstream.
It was my grandma’s, and it was my mom’s, and it was my sister Claire’s, and Claire gave it to me a month ago, all reverent and serious as she said, “Dad asked me to set this aside for you a while ago. He knew it’d make Mom happy to see you in it. ”
I took it then, even as the knot twisted in my throat, even when I had to look away from her earnest eyes.
I can’t lose the family veil. My heart slams against my rib cage as I grip the tulle in the skirt, tug it higher, then take a few more steps down the hill.
Ledger’s hell-bent on saving the veil too.
He’s a tall blur of black suit and determination as he races down the grassy hill, dodging small shrubs with pink and white flowers on his path to the water.
Through my annoying torrent of tears, I can just make out a flash of white lace slipping amongst the wet stones in the stream, bobbing on the surface, about to be sucked under.
“Oh god,” I moan, and it sounds like a cry ripping from my soul.
I have to get it. I swallow my stupid sobs, buckling down as I reach for my even stupider satin pumps and sling them off, tossing them I don’t even know where. I pop back up, ready to fly down the grass the rest of the way, when I spot the tall, strapping man wading into the water.
Holy shit.
Ledger’s taking big, hearty steps in the stream, pushing against the current, hunting that motherfucking veil like it’s a puck he intends to own. In three seconds, he reaches it, bends, and plucks it from the watery depths.
Behind me, Dev applauds. “Dude! If you were that fast in the morning, I’d never pass you when we go out for a run.”
He jogs down the hill, stopping next to me, while in the middle of the creek, Ledger flashes Dev a fuck-off grin and flips him the bird with his free hand. “I let you pass me so I can run alone.”
“Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night. Also, fuck yes. Well done,” Dev says, his jeers turning fully to cheers.
I should cheer too.
But I can’t stop crying. I’m a hot, sobbing, frustrating stew of ridiculous emotions as I sink down onto the grass right in front of one of those pretty shrubs. Ledger strides out of the water in his black suit, looking a little Colin Firth-y in Pride & Prejudice.
Too bad Ledger’s white shirt isn’t sticking to his chest.
Wait.
Why the hell am I thinking about Ledger’s chest while I’m trying to dry up my tears? I’m supposed to be sad.
I am sad, dammit.
When Ledger flops down beside me, handing me the waterlogged veil, it’s not sadness I feel.
It’s relief I didn’t lose something important.
I clutch the wet veil to my chest, not caring that my dress is a mess.
My shoulders are heaving with the remnants of my Tear Extravaganza Brought To You By A Totally Fucked Up Wedding Day.
Dev sits on my other side, offering me a tissue.
Does he carry tissues all the time? Or did he pack it especially given the circumstances?
“Thanks.” I take it gratefully and wipe my eyes under the shades, then my cheeks. After a few deep breaths, I mutter, “I’m sorry, guys. Sorry for crying like this. Normally, I’m more fun. I swear.”
Ledger shoots me a look like I’m nuts. “You’re allowed to be sad today,” he says gruffly.
“Yeah. You’re allowed to feel anything. Say anything,” Dev seconds with genuine sympathy.
Right.
Of course.
They think I’m sad my ex ditched me minutes before I promised to love him forever.
They don’t know I’m mostly secretly glad Aiden walked out.
They have no clue about the playdough mix of emotions inside me.
They don’t know I’m dancing a jig while also feeling ridiculously stupid, while battling all this guilt, while wanting to kick Aiden in the balls for being a total fuckcake and booking a flight hours before he ditched me.
All they know is I’m hysterical over something as inconsequential as a piece of lace.
I cradle the veil tighter and take off my shades, setting them in my lap.
“It’s a family heirloom,” I explain, my voice still heavy with emotion.
I don’t say anything more. I don’t want to admit how I really feel about today.
“Thanks for getting it,” I say to Ledger.
His blue eyes, normally steely, soften the slightest bit as he squints against the sun, then gives a crisp nod. “No problem.”
I turn to the guy who carried me out of the church in his arms. “And thanks for rescuing me.”
“Happy to do it,” Dev says, then gestures to the water streaming by. “And I’m happy Ledger hustled like I’ve never seen before.”
“She needed the veil. I got the veil. Case closed.”
My gaze strays to Ledger’s wingtips. My breath stops. “Your shoes are sopping wet. They’re ruined. I ruined them. God, I’m a mess,” I say, then I drop my head in my hands, and for a hot, awful second, tears sting the backs of my eyes.
But they don’t come.
Instead, something ignites in my chest, then glows brighter, bolder, and sparks into a loud, joyful laugh.
Soon, I’m cracking up on the side of a road, gripping my veil while I’m parked on my ass in a white wedding gown covered with grass stains.
Flopping down on my back, I stretch out in my dress and stockinged feet, right next to my older brother’s two best friends.
I stare up at the wide-open sky and all its endless blue, enjoying the view immensely, feeling lighter at last.
I can’t believe I was about to walk down the aisle.
I can’t believe Aiden left me so he could screw other people.
Mostly, though, I can’t believe I broke down over a piece of fabric. “Did I really make you chase after a veil?” I ask in between more laughs over my own ludicrousness.
Ledger tilts his head at me, quirking one eyebrow, his gaze full of intrigue. “Honey, you didn’t make me do anything. I chose to chase a veil,” he says, all gravelly and matter of fact.
But it’s the honey that stops my pulse. Did he just give me an affectionate nickname?
Yes, yes, he did.
I sit up. The tightness in my chest has vanished.
I look down at my wedding dress with its messy hem, the skirt streaked with dirt and dusted with little twigs.
My tiny ankle tattoo of a bird is visible through the white sheer stockings.
If only I had my lace-up black boots on.
They’re in the trunk though. I’d asked Garrett to put them there for the reception at a nearby restaurant because I hate dancing in heels.
The reception. I groan silently. I don’t want to mention yet another problem to my two knights.
But what am I going to do with hundreds of plates of chicken and rice?
With all that cake? With the wedding singer?
With my mother and her wishes for today?
My stomach dips, but I don’t want to think about any of it right now.
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it. And I will get you some new shoes,” I say, apologetically.
He waves a dismissive hand. “Nope. I knew what I was getting into.” He gestures to the stream. “Water.”
I glance around at the hillside. “And looks like I watered this bush here with my tears, so maybe I helped the earth today,” I say, trying to make light of things.
Ledger tips his chin to the white and pink flowers. “Oleander doesn’t really need water. That’s why they plant it on highways and the sides of roads.”
With an aggrieved groan, Dev cuts in. “What he means to say is thanks for thinking of the plants.”
Ledger stretches, reaching for the ends of his pants to roll up the water-soaked cuffs. He doesn’t thank me for thinking of the plants, and that’s A-OK. Instead, he says, “They’re also poisonous so don’t eat them.”
“Useful intel if we were on the run from all of humanity,” Dev replies.
“Don’t knock zombie apocalypse prep, Dev,” I say, and I’m tempted to nudge him in solidarity for teasing the man I’d long ago nicknamed Stern Brunch Daddy. Just the right amount of disciplinarian when you want him to be.
But I’m not sure we’re at that level yet, even when Dev says, “You’re right. Ledger will be helpful as our amateur botanist when we run from the brain-eaters.”
With a sigh, Ledger adds, “If we’re going to get to the amusement park, I better buy a new pair of flip-flops now.” He points to the 7-Eleven one hundred feet away.
“Do they have flip-flops at 7-Eleven?” Dev asks.
Ledger shrugs, like fuck if I know. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Sounds like an adventure,” Dev says to me. “You like adventure?”
I haven’t been on an adventure in ages, it seems. Aiden never wanted to have an adventure. “Love it,” I say.
Ledger rises to his feet, making quite a sight in black wingtips, socks with illustrations of mushrooms under the words Don’t Shiitake On Me, and his soggy pants rolled up to just under his knees.
It’s weirdly sexy. Because of why they’re rolled up.
For me.
Dev stands next, offering me a hand. As I take it, the ring on my finger catches my attention again. I’ll need to deal with that soon. There’s a long list of things to deal with—the collateral damage to the lives Aiden and I were about to mingle.
Shoving those thoughts away, I let Dev pull me up so I’m between them, the ushers who ushered me out.
I can’t even imagine what’s happening at the church, or how many texts are blowing up my phone inside my purse on the floor of the car—calls from my mother every two minutes, messages from my friends checking on me.
My stomach somersaults at the thought of the explanations I owe my guests and my family.
Including the ones I owe these guys.
As the water gurgles nearby, the afternoon sun shining brightly behind us, I’m tempted to tell them the truth—that I’m not entirely a jilted bride.
But I could barely tell Trina and Ivy all my what-ifs less than an hour ago. I shouldn’t blurt out to my brother’s two best friends and top clients that I didn’t have the guts to even be a runaway bride.
I just…got lucky. Or as lucky as one can be when being left by a guy who’s angling for more nookie.
And I’m not going to ruin our adventure with a big old truth bomb. As I head up the hill, I grab my discarded heels and slide them on, then head to the store, but along the way, Dev whispers, “You might want to…” He draws an air circle around my face.
For some reason—maybe that he noticed, or maybe because I didn’t even like the wedding makeup—his observation loosens something else inside me. Unlocks another layer of freedom.
“Then I better go wash off my makeup while my getaway driver hunts for new shoes,” I say, and it feels like the three of us are in cahoots today, especially when Dev flashes me a smile, then says, “Slurpees on me.”