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We followed the sound of the noisy cousin bridesmaids, my heels clicking on the terra cotta tile of the old church floor, my silky nude pink dress swishing and my hand sweating in Remy’s. Or maybe his was sweating. Either way, our hands were damp as we approached the bridal suite and stood stupidly again, staring at it.
My heart thumped painfully.
“You scared?” he asked.
“A little. You?”
“A little. But I have you. Everything else feels easy.”
I stretched to kiss him, and he bent to meet me, our lips connecting sweetly, briefly. And with a heavy sigh from both of us, we walked through the door to hell.
The room was an explosion of shades of nude fabric and talking girls, many of them teens. Makeup and shoes and bags were scattered about the room and every surface, and every seat was occupied with another cousin with red hair and freckles. One of them was playing “End Game” on a small speaker, and two of them sang along at the top of their lungs. Aptly, I might add, as they went on about the size of our reputations and conversations and what they’d heard about us.
Cass turned in her chair, one half of her head in big velcro rollers and the other half looking like a bird’s nest. She was a silent storm with wild eyes.
Terror struck me. I glanced around for anything she could use as a weapon and noted too many hot curling irons for my comfort.
“You’re late,” she said too calmly as she stood. Her eyes cut to Remy’s hands. First the empty one, then the one occupied by my hand. “And you forgot the coffee.”
He swore under his breath. “I’ll go get it right now. I’m sorry, Cass.”
“AH—” It was more punctuation than a word that left her, her finger pointing at him when he took a step toward the door. “Don’t you move, traitor. And you.” She turned on me. “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me.”
I swallowed hard. “I know. I’m sorry. You made me promise?—”
“That’s right. You promised. I told you the truth, and you promised, and the whole time you were lying to me. And poor Henry?—”
“Henry does not want me,” I said as definitively as I could.
“Why, because he said so? That idiot doesn’t know what he wants,” Cass said, laughing like a maniac.
“All right, then you should know I don’t want him.”
“How do you go your whole life loving one man only to change your mind when you meet my stupid cousin?”
Three of the girls said, “Hey!” then giggled. Cass ignored them.
“And you,” she said, her finger out again as she took a step in Remy’s direction. “This is your fault. I told you to leave her alone. You swore you’d leave her alone, Remy! And now? Now you’re holding hands, and she refused Henry, and you like each other. Look at you! You really like each other.” The pitch of her voice climbed, her madness made wilder by the chaotic nature of half of her hair. “Your mother is here, and she’s going to take you away. You’re going to leave, and he likes you, and I can’t believe you two did this to me behind my back!”
“Hold on, Cass—we didn’t do anything to you,” Remy said, which was a mistake.
Her cheeks were red, her nostrils flared like she was going to exhale fire and smoke. White shone all around her eyes when she turned them on Remy. He was so startled, he took a step back when she took one forward.
“You lied to me, you dirty liar.”
“Cass,” I tried to interject.
“Don’t you dare Cass me, Jessa! It’s my wedding day and you’re late and you’re sleeping with Remy and you don’t love Henry and—” Her brows clicked together. She touched her cheek with her fingertips. “Why am I crying? Is my face broken? Did you break my face on my wedding day too?”
“Cass!” I took the opportunity to close the space between us and took her by the shoulders, hoping I could stop her from smacking me if things went in that direction. “Cass, I’m not leaving.”
She blinked. “What?” Her voice sounded small.
“Darling, I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay with Remy.” I looked back, extending a hand for him. He stepped up and took it. “You’re right, we do really like each other. Really, really like each other. I can’t leave. I don’t know what I’d even do with myself but be miserable.”
“But your mother?—”
“Sod my mother.”
