CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – SYLVIE
I pushed open the door to the ‘bridal suite’ and paused.
The room was empty.
Hazel was nowhere to be seen.
“Hazel?”
Sniffles echoed from the direction of the bathroom, and I rolled my eyes, pushed the door closed behind me, and dumped my bag on the floor.
Here we go.
No, no.
I wasn’t going to think like that.
I was going to be nice.
My little sister was going to be married tomorrow. It was perfectly normal for her to be crying right now. I’d talked down more than one bride after their rehearsal dinner because reality had hit them. This was no different than all those other times.
I tried the door, but it was locked. “Hazel, are you in there?”
“Yeah,” she replied weakly.
“Can you unlock the door?”
I raised my eyebrows as the sound of shuffling reached my ears, and before I could think of anything else, the door unlocked, swung open, and I was smothered by my sister.
I stepped back to steady myself at her body weight slamming into me, but that was all I could do.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around my middle, pinning my arms to my sides, and she wailed into my chest. Her sniffles were now thick, body-shaking sobs, and I just knew she was snotting all over my jumper.
I sighed. “Stop—”
“I’m sorry!” she cried, dragging ‘sorry’ out until it no longer formed a word but rather the strangled cry of an alley cat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“Okay, okay.” I reached around as far as I could and attempted to pat her on the back.
“I’m sorry!”
“Yes, I hear you.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to the sound of her crying. “Hazel, I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything! Anything!”
“Stop this caterwauling.”
She sniffed, loosening her grip on me. “I’m sorry.”
“And stop apologising. I get it, you’re sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” She finally let go of my arms and stepped back.
She swiped her hands across her cheeks and peered up at me, her eyes still shining with tears.
“I had no idea this was so hard. Planning a wedding. I didn’t know how much you did until we had to fix everything.
And I made everything so much harder for you! ”
Her tears started all over again, and I guided her towards the bed where I sat her down.
“I was so selfish!” She hiccupped and buried her face in her hands.
“I didn’t help you at all! I just—hic—made everything so much harder for you!
I just had to—hic—give you one song and I couldn’t even do that!
I kept asking you—hic—to do more and more and I never did—hic—the one thing I asked to do!
I’m the—hic—worst! No wonder you hate me! ”
Oh, boy.
It appeared that this drama had given her a reality check.
Well, it was going to happen one day. Why not today?
I walked over to the bar cart that had been set up, uncorked a bottle of wine, and poured two glasses. I carried them to the bed and sat down next to Hazel. Gently, I handed her the glasses, and she took it, gripping the glass and staring into it.
“I don’t hate you,” I said softly, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her against me.
She rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t hate me?”
“Of course, I don’t. You’re my sister. I might not like you very much at times, but I’ll never hate you, Hazel.”
“Okay,” she mumbled into my glass.
“And yes, you’ve been incredibly selfish, but most brides are. To be perfectly honest, most people don’t fully understand what goes into planning a wedding, and that’s why they hire a wedding planner. My entire job is to make sure nothing is forgotten.”
“But you let me get away with so much before you snapped.”
“Because you’re my sister. I wanted this day to be perfect for you, and that means putting up with your bullshit.
I’ve done it for years, after all.” I sipped my wine and gave her a little squeeze.
“This was a new experience for me, too. I’ve never been emotionally invested in a wedding the way I am in yours.
So… I’m not sorry for what I said to you that day, but I am sorry for how I said it.
I shouldn’t have exploded like that, but I still stand by what I said. ”
She nodded, snuggling in closer to me. “You were right. About everything. When everything went to shit… God, Sylvie, I remember sitting here as Thomas told us what had happened and do you know what I thought? I thought, ‘Oh, my God. What about all Sylvie’s hard work? Now what?’ I didn’t even care about the wedding being off, I cared that everything you’d worked so hard on was ruined.
Then we looked at everything that needed to be sorted…
That was when I realised how terrible I’d been to you. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, resting my cheek on top of her head. “Even if that’s not entirely true. I know how worried you were about the wedding not going forwards.”
“Well, maybe a little.”
I smiled. “Whatever it all is, it’s done now.”
“I know, but… Thank you, Sylvie. Not just for the wedding, but for everything. Since we were kids.”
Warmth rushed through me, and I sighed, swirling the wine in my glass. “Just remember, as of twelve p.m. tomorrow, you’re a married woman. You can’t be acting like a little bitch anymore.”
Laughter bubbled out of her, and she sat up straight, pushing me away from her. “Is that sister Sylvie speaking?”
“Damn right. Unless you’d like to spend the night going over wedding plans again?”
“I’d rather stab thirty cocktail sticks into my eyes.”
“With the cheese and pineapple attached?”
Hazel tilted her head to the side. “Hmm. Maybe not. The pineapple would sting, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, as opposed to the literal wooden pin going into your eyeball, which I imagine is barely a scratch.”
She grinned at me, the sparkle finally returning to her eyes. “Barely a papercut.”
I shook my head, but I was smiling. “One final warning: if you act like a bitch tomorrow, I will hit you with your bouquet. Or my bouquet. Whatever I can get my hands on.”
She held out her pinkie finger. When I didn’t move, she looped it around one of mine and raised our hands. “I pinkie swear that I, Hazel Harding, will not be a little bitch on my wedding day, nor will I do anything that will cause the best big sister in the whole world any stress.”
“All right, there’s no need to over-promise. We both know you’ll do something.”
She pouted but released our pinkies with a laugh. “Fine. Then, I solemnly swear to try and not stress you out so much.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Okay, now we’re being realistic.”
She swatted my leg and looked into her wine glass. “Oh, dear. It’s empty.” She got up and walked over to the bar cart, filling her glass. She glanced back at mine and, seeing I’d barely touched it, put the bottle back into the ice bucket and rejoined me on the bed.
“So much for not drinking alcohol because you don’t want a puffy face,” I quipped.
“It’s for my nerves.” She sipped. “And because I need something to keep me sane while you fill me in on whatever the hell is going on with you and Thomas.”
I set my glass on the bedside table and got up, clearing my throat. “You know, we have a long day tomorrow. We should really think about an early ni—iiiiight!”
My voice turned into a squeal when Hazel yanked me back down onto the bed.
“Absolutely not. If I let you get away with this, you’ll fob me off by saying, ‘It’s Christmas!’ Then it’ll be, ‘It’s the new year!’ and worse, ‘I’m going home, leave me alone!’”
Well… Maybe.
“So, no. You’re not making excuses. You’ve been staying here for, like, a week, and I’d have to be blind to not see that there’s something going on.
The man is obsessed with you! He’s either touching you or staring at you like he wants to.
Not to mention, he’s the sole reason that the wedding—” Hazel froze, but her eyes widened the tiniest bit.
“He’s the sole reason that the wedding, what?”
“Well, is happening. You know?” She laughed awkwardly. “If he hadn’t told Emily, then…” She held out a hand and stared over the top of my head. “She wouldn’t… You know…”
“You mean the wedding wouldn’t be happening if Thomas hadn’t recalled the possibility of the licensing being renewed and called everyone to action? Then asked Emily to take the credit for it all so I wouldn’t think he was swooping in like some heroic knight in shining armour?”
“Nooooo. Who gave you that idea?”
“Well, aside from the fact everyone here is a terrible liar, Emily already told me.”
Hazel pressed her lips together. “He asked her not to.”
“Yes, but unfortunately for Thomas, he vastly underestimated my intelligence.”
“Yeah. For, like, your entire lives.”
There would be no arguments here. “I figured it out. He has a hero complex, but he hates getting credit for it. He’s the kind of guy who’d scour donation pages and help them meet their targets whether it’s fifty quid or five thousand and sign it off as anonymous.”
“Has he ever done that?”
“Probably.” I shrugged. “Also, he has a pattern of saving my arse, and he’s about the only person who could mobilise so many people at such short notice. And certainly, the only one who could pull Zara in line.”
“Yeah, she wants a job.” Hazel scooted back on the bed and crossed her legs. “She told me she told her boss to shove his job up his arse, quit on the spot, and is now trying to show him all her good sides.”
“Is it working?”
“No idea. He’s too busy paying attention to you.” Her smile grew again. “So… What’s going on?”
I groaned and stood up. “All right, if we must do this, can we do it in our pyjamas?”
“Excellent idea.” She handed me her wine glass from the floor, and I put it next to mine.
We both opened our cases and grabbed our pyjamas, then got changed.
It took another half an hour between us to remove our makeup and wash up, and when I returned to the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of my sister sitting on the bed with her lap full of various beauty products.
“What’s this?”