AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I haven't thought about it."
"Were you planning anything with Ryan?" I regret the words the minute I say them.
"I don't know. He was taking care of it." She sighs. "I'm sure he would have invited everyone he knows. And I'm sure it would have just been some ridiculous, lavish affair. And I am sure I would have hated it."
I can see it. I can see a massive wedding at an obscenely expensive hotel, the room adorned with so many flowers it sets a new definition for ostentatious. It would be the perfect excuse for Ryan to show off all his money. An even more perfect excuse for him to show off his fresh new trophy wife.
I can't be that guy, the asshole who forces her to bend to my will.
"Luke," she says. "You there?"
I press my fingers into the phone. "I'm here."
Even if here is three thousand miles away.
"I'm sorry I haven't thought about the wedding." She says it with a sigh, like she thinks she's disappointing me again.
"Ally... I don't care about the fucking wedding. I just want to marry you."
"Okay." She swallows hard. She's nervous. "Well, I'll think about it. And I'll think about the guest list. And, uh..."
"You were right before. It's been less than a week. You don't need to think about it."
"But I want to," she says. "I want to marry you too, and I want to figure this out so it's not hanging over my head."
I bite my tongue.
"Sorry, that came out wrong," she says. "It's just. I'm not a fan of planning parties. And this will pretty much be the most important party of my life."
"It doesn't have to be big. It can just be the two of us."
"Yeah." She takes a shallow breath. "I'll think about it."
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask. There's something off, but I'm not going to press her too hard.
"Fine. But it's getting late. I should head home before the subway gets all fucked up."
We say our good-byes and I collapse at home, racking my brain for some way to make this distance more bearable.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alyssa
It's a sunny day. Bright and warm and beautiful the way all summer days are. The sand is rough and hot beneath my feet, and I struggle to take another step. The beach. I must be on a beach. Obviously, I'm on a beach. The beige sand is right in front of my face. And it's so damn bright. The sun must be bouncing off it. The sun must be high in the sky.
God, it's bright. So bright I can barely see anything but the blue sky surrounding me. I squint and throw my hand up to shield my eyes. Something comes into focus. Someone standing a dozen or so feet away in a black tuxedo.
Fuck. This can't be... I bring my other hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes from the oppressive glare of the sun. It is. That's Luke, but there's something off about him. Something different. I can't put my finger on it.
He nods, smiling,
or something like smiling. It's hard to tell from here. It's so damn bright. I press my eyes closed, but the sun is so hot on my face. Everything is this awful shade of yellow black.
Then it starts. That music. Jesus, not that music. It's the fucking wedding march. This can't be my damn wedding. Not here. Not like this. Not yet.
I have only two choices--run away or take a step forward. A step towards the rest of my damn life. I do. The heavy satin fabric of my dress presses against my legs. I bring my gaze to it--it's such an oppressive, blinding white. It's some polyester terror, a tacky thing better suited for a sixteen-year-old debutante.
But the clothes don't make the woman.
