CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The country club’s garden could’ve been a slice of Europe.
Towering hedges and a row of Italian cypresses surrounded paths of pavers with intricate patterns, rose bushes, and an impressive fountain centered in a pond. Lily pads and white flowers floated in the water, glittering beneath the idyllic, partly cloudy sky.
Picture perfect.
Unfortunately, Georgie and I were stuck with a pair of half-drunk groomsmen in the glass-encased sunroom.
They whooped and hollered each time Jesse dipped Serena or pulled her in for a kiss in front of the fountain.
When Ivy opened the French doors for bridal party portraits, all the oxygen in the room had been replaced with a humid cloud of liquor breath.
Chad, the one I’d have to suffer down the aisle with, pulled a flask from his tux pocket at every available moment. His bandaged hand lowered a little too close to my backside as we were forced together for photos. I took great pleasure in twisting his burned pinky until he yelped.
After an hour of close-lipped smiles and glares from my newfound pal Chad, the men dispersed and a veritable army of makeup artists and hair stylists descended on us for touchups.
“Now’s a good time to talk,” Serena murmured through her teeth as one person freshened her blush and the other fixed her lipstick.
I sucked in a sharp breath and held it while my Frenchman spritzed another layer of hairspray. “I was hoping for a private moment,” I replied with a wheeze. “Away from all the—” What felt like a hundred eyes snapped to me. “People,” I finished with an attempt at a smile.
Ivy lingered beside us, Teddy having disappeared to take photos of the pristine reception area and the slow trickle of guests. Getting rid of her might prove to be difficult.
“Maybe we could walk the gardens,” Georgie suggested brightly.
She was met with a cluster of outraged gasps.
“Or sit in the clean, private, bridal suite,” I blurted, “Alone.”
Ivy and Minerva’s assistant trailed us all the way through the gardens, the hallways blocked off from guests, to Serena’s bridal suite.
The connected room she’d dressed in could’ve doubled as an apartment.
Huge, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering ocean, flanked by a cream colored wraparound couch.
A kitchenette and half-bath waited on the other end, finished with a small dining table that held our bouquets in crystal vases.
They looked more like white-and-green floral waterfalls.
Georgie smiled and touched the petals.
“White bluebells,” she declared over her shoulder.
Serena beamed. “Those were incredibly difficult to find.”
My chest grew impossibly tighter. I looked to Ivy and Minerva’s assistant, wringing my hands together. “Would you mind waiting in the other room?” I asked.
I clicked the door shut behind them and locked it for good measure.
Serena sat on the couch gazing at the ocean, the skirt of her dress fanned so that not a single wrinkle appeared. Her blonde hair glowed almost ethereally in the amber light of the afternoon sun bouncing off the ocean. For a moment, I wished that I didn’t have to say it.
Then my mother’s face—crumpled and hollow, silently suffering for so many years—flashed in my mind. Serena was just like her—kind, long-suffering, willing to put up with far too much. I couldn’t handle seeing her extinguished in the same way.
Georgie sat on the couch while I chose to stand. Blame it on the hundreds of milligrams of caffeine or the disconcerting lack of sleep. My pulse skittered so fast it made my hands shake. I’d rehearsed a dozen openings all night, and every one of them disappeared now.
“We’re worried about you, S,” I began. My voice trembled, the words burning my tongue on the way out as if to say: no turning back now. “About… all of this,” I murmured.
Her expression was impassive as she replied, “What do you mean?”
Georgie shifted and cleared her throat. “We want to make sure that this wedding is what you really want,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t anticipated her participation beyond a nod here and there.
Serena smiled. “That’s sweet—but really, I’m perfectly fine with the country club. I have my girls and my bluebells. Besides, it’s just one day.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Dancing around the issue would get us nowhere—which meant it was a job best left to me.
“Look,” I said, “When the three of us got dinner in New York a couple years ago, I should’ve said something, but I didn’t. That’s my fault. I was too… wrapped up in my own stuff, and I didn’t think my opinion would matter to you.”
Serena frowned gently. “Of course it would’ve mattered.”
Well, that certainly didn’t help the anxiety needling my chest.
I sighed. “And I didn’t realize that until just recently.
For that, I’m sorry.” I kicked off my heels and perched on the edge of the couch on the other side of Serena.
Taking her hand in mine—because I knew that’s what she would’ve done—I continued, “We’re concerned about you and Jesse and his family.
I can’t quite put my finger on it, S, but we don’t think they’re good people.
And it seems as if you’ve been swept up into this whole thing, and maybe you feel like you can’t get out.
So if you’re waiting for a lifeline, well, here it is. ”
Tears filled Serena’s eyes. Georgie took her other hand and squeezed, scooting closer with a tissue box in tow.
This was the moment. The dam would break, Serena’s finely tuned armor would fall off, we’d escape this manicured hellhole and end the night at Captain’s with burgers and shakes. The three of us would go home—together.
Serena gathered a breath, sounding ragged.
Then, after a silence pregnant with hope, she whispered, “You think I don’t know? Of course I know. I may be nice, but that doesn’t make me a fool.”
It shattered around us in a spray of jagged shards.
I blinked. My pulse stuttered, and for a moment, my brain went completely blank. Then, I released her hand and squinted at her like she’d just asserted two plus two equaled seven. “So you know he’s a terrible person,” I muttered, too dumbstruck to maintain a filter.
“He’s not terrible,” she replied with a small laugh, “Just… flawed. As we all are.”
“But are those flaws the type you want to live with?” Georgie asked gently, still holding her hand.
Serena hummed. “They’re the kind I can manage.”
A burning wave of acid washed through me. I flushed, rising to my feet, suddenly jittery and hot and overwhelmingly tired all at once. Serena knew. She wasn’t some damsel in distress; she was prepared to walk down the aisle toward a man who only appeared to respect money and status.
It occurred to me then that, maybe, she was no longer the Serena who donated her first paycheck to the Port Camden animal shelter. Maybe seven years changed her more than I knew.
I shook the thought away. She just didn’t understand—I had to make her understand.
Back on the couch, I wrung my hands together and tried again.
“My Mom is really similar to you, Serena—I think you know that. And my Dad, he… he’s like Jesse, if he was a broke artist. He—” My voice caught.
I paused to draw a shuddering breath. “It’s been eleven years since he left, and my Mom is still recovering from everything he broke.
I don’t want that to be you,” I whispered.
I hated every second, from the tears pricking my eyes to the emotion laid bare in every syllable. But if it was between Serena getting hurt, and my pride being damaged, I’d take the former any day.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she replied.
A pause.
“What will you do?” Georgie asked.
Serena smiled, genuine and wide, the kind that made the entire room feel like it was washed in sunlight. “I’m going to walk down that aisle and become a Newhouse. Because—despite everything that’s wrong—they’re family to me. They’re… they’re all I have.”
The desperation threaded in her words made my heart break.
At the very least, she hadn’t changed.
“We’re your family,” I replied, meeting her eyes as a tear fell down my cheek. “Don’t forget that.”
Serena sent me a watery nod.
Deep down, I couldn’t help but wonder: would she have ever considered marrying Jesse if I’d been a better friend? That perhaps, if our group didn’t splinter apart seven years ago, none of this would’ve happened.
I wanted to vomit.
“Hey,” Serena murmured, taking my hand. “You can’t fix everything, Margot—and that’s okay. Life is tangled and chaotic. If you try to iron out all the wrinkles and remove the blemishes, you’re not really living anymore.”
In one fell swoop, she released the pressure in the room with the perfect mixture of Serena-branded salve. I crumpled forward and breathed properly for the first time in hours.
My makeup artist nearly had a heart attack when she arrived for last-minute touch ups.
???
Teddy found me in the waiting room beside the terrace where the ceremony was being held.
The buzz of chatter muffled the string quartet as guests funneled outside, dressed to the nines in gowns and cashmere shawls and tailored tuxes. I watched through a sliver in the curtains until Minerva barked at me to keep away from the windows.
“Hey,” Teddy said, sidling up beside me.
I stared at the crown molding. “Hi.”
He moved into my line of vision. Sometime in the past few hours, he’d changed into his all-black suit, hair tucked neatly behind his ears. I dragged my eyes away from his clean shaven jaw and struggled not to breathe in his cologne.
“I quit the Travel and Taste assignment,” he said matter-of-factly. “I did some digging last night and found out the Newhouse family owns the magazine’s parent company.”
My stomach soured. “So Jesse was behind it.”
“I can’t figure out why,” Teddy replied.
I shrugged, the motion feeling increasingly natural. “And we might never.”
The response appeared to confuse him.
“Where’s the next big adventure, huh?” I asked, turning to him with crossed arms and fighting to keep my expression neutral. “Spain? New Zealand? Peru? I suppose I can just follow your blog to stay up-to-date.”
“No, I’m—” He cleared his throat. “I’m staying in the Cove.”
For a fleeting moment, my thoughts spiraled and my heart swelled. That pesky spark I thought I’d extinguished flared to life, humming in my chest like a lighthouse beacon.
My logical half quickly slapped me with a cold dose of reality. It didn’t change anything.
So, I arched my brow and said, “I suppose you’d need somewhere to live until the next big thing comes along.”
Teddy’s gaze searched my face. “Why are you so stubborn, Margot?” he murmured.
“Gee, you sure know how to flatter a girl.”
“I’m getting this all wrong,” he said under his breath.
The music swelled outside, and Minerva clapped for our attention. I checked the time—four o’clock on the dot. Apparently she hadn’t gotten the memo about every wedding starting late.
“Can we talk later?” Teddy whispered urgently.
“Sure,” I replied, watching as he slipped onto the terrace. He didn’t need to know that I was planning on leaving the day after tomorrow. That would only bring unnecessary complications.
The ceremony unfolded beautifully.
Serena’s vows, touching and heartfelt, caused some of the attendees to sniffle and dab their eyes.
She spoke about her parents, the difficulties of growing up without family, and how the Newhouses stepped in and filled the gaps.
Jesse’s vows might’ve been composed by a professional speechwriter.
He paused at the right moment for laughs, gaze sweeping the crowd with a self-satisfied smile each time.
Beneath my twitching grin, I was terrified for her in all the ways she couldn’t be. He didn’t deserve her. His entire family didn’t deserve her.
By the time they kissed, my eyes stung with the tears left unshed for her.
I wanted to lurch forward and drag her away.
But Serena’s words still echoed in my ears: I had to stop cleaning up and tidying and untangling.
I was destined to drive myself crazy that way.
All I could do was accept the losses where they came, dust myself off when I could, and be a better friend.
No, not a friend—a sister.
We were family. No one would ever take that away.