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“Bathroom is free,” I tell him as his head shoots up to look at me. Oliver scans me up and down, lingering on the places where the towel ends, and he edges his way out of the bed.
“Sorry again about last night,” I tell him as he gathers up what he needs to get ready.
He looks at me and smiles his dimple smile. “Lil, you were fine. You had a fun night. You are allowed to let your hair down now and then. And you are an adorable drunk person.”
I blush and smile back at him, nodding in gratitude. “Well, thanks for looking after me.”
“My pleasure,” he says, his eyes still on me as he leaves the room.
Once alone, I pull out the Perfect Dress from where it is hanging in the closet and slip it on. As I look at myself in the mirror, I let out a sigh. It is just as beautiful as I remember. The dress is a soft champagne colour, with red, pink, and purple flowers embroidered on the bust. It has thin spaghetti straps, it fits snug to the waist, and from there, it flows to the ground. And the best part is the back, which is bare with only soft criss-crossing straps holding it together, stopping just above my tail bone. It is the most stunning gown I have ever worn, and with my hair styled with soft curls done in an elaborate half up do, and nude heels, the outfit is complete. As I wait, filled with nervous energy, for Oliver to come out of the bathroom, I add a few things to my evening bag and fiddle with my jewellery. When the door opens and he steps out into the bedroom, I hold my breath, waiting for him to get his first look at me.
Oliver stops short and stares. He looks me up and down and swallows hard.
“You are perfect, Lilly,” he says finally, his voice gruff with emotion.
“You like?” I ask, turning around to show him the back.
“Very much,” he says, his voice still strained. “I think it is safe to say that no one will look at the bride with you there looking like that.”
I smile at him, knowing he is saying this to make me feel good, understanding the assignment of the revenge dress, and I finally take a moment to properly look at him. Wow! Oliver in a black dress suit is drool worthy.
“You look drool worthy,” I say to him and then give myself a mental slap in the face.
Oliver throws his head back and laughs.
“Did I say that out loud?” I ask, blushing with embarrassment.
“That’s OK, Lil. I am happy you think of me that way.”
Oliver steps towards me and tucks my hair behind my ear while I pick an imaginary piece of lint off his jacket. Any excuse to touch him.
“You ready to go?” he asks, offering me his arm.
“Lead the way,” I say, full of excitement for the day ahead. Terrible hangover all but forgotten.
We arrive at the small chapel located on the grounds of the hotel, and Oliver puts his arm protectively around my back, his thumb stroking small circles on my bare skin while we wait to be seated.
“Are you with the bride or groom?” an adorable little girl with a lisp asks us, obviously taking on the role of usher.
“We are with the groom, I guess?” I tell her.
As we follow her to our seats, Oliver keeps his arm in place around me, and as we sit down, I use this opportunity to snuggle in close to him. I look up and see Oliver staring down at me with a smile, and I sigh, filled with happiness.
I move my attention to the front of the chapel, where Sebastian is waiting with his groomsmen and the priest, fiddling with his bow tie, looking nervous. With some time to spare, I give him an objective once over, still unable to figure out what I ever saw in him, and Amy’s words come back to haunt me: “You tend to go for guys that are nothing like Oliver.” It is so true; Sebastian is shallow and materialistic. Fickle and vain. I am so glad he dumped me all those months ago, bringing me to this very moment here with Oliver.
As the music starts, we all turn as Sarah enters the chapel and makes the slow walk down the aisle. She looks beautiful. Even though her behaviour has been strange this weekend, I have to admit that the bride looks stunning, and watching the look in her eyes as she makes her way towards Sebastian, my eyes fill with tears. Oliver, noticing this, squeezes my hand and pulls me in closer. And we stay like this throughout the whole ceremony as we watch Sebastian, my ex-boyfriend, and Sarah become man and wife.
Once the formalities of the ceremony are over, we make our way to the cocktail hour. I grab a glass of water, shying away from any and all alcohol, and pull Oliver over with me to talk to Melanie.
“Hey, Lilly!” She smiles when she sees me. “How are you feeling after last night?”
“Ugh, trying not to think too much about last night, Mel,” I tell her. “I cannot believe how much I had to drink.”
“You weren’t the only one,” Melanie whispers to me. “Sarah was up most of the night throwing up!”
“No!” I gasp in horror. What a terrible way to spend the night before your wedding day.
“Yes,” Melanie confirms. “She pulled it together for the big day though.”
