“Nice to meet you,” I finished, squinting at Teddy for the half-second of privacy we had as he walked through the threshold. His expression was, predictably, just as confused as he pretended to be lately.
Serena greeted them with open arms, and the rest of the morning passed in a haze of pearls, makeup, flights of mimosas, and a master class at avoiding eye contact. Georgie survived an hour before hailing Minerva for snacks. I survived one mimosabefore demanding a fresh carafe of coffee. I was committing a crime against my liver, but at least I’d survive the day with an ounce of sanity intact.
By the time we reached midday, Minerva had surrendered, delegating the bridal suite to an assistant who appeared to be close to a nervous breakdown herself.
For lunch, we were given arugula salad with wagyu beef, mini chicken Caesar wraps, and chocolate eclairs with “Jesse & Serena” stenciled in gold dust. If my heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of my chest each time I glanced at the clock, I would’ve thoroughly enjoyed the high class culinary experience. I managed a few bites of salad before the nerves won.
The assistant shooed Teddy away so we could get dressed. Ivy lingered, snapping a few photos of me and Georgie buttoning the backs of each other’s gowns and slipping our heels on. When Serena glided in from the connecting suite, everything else dissolved—theTravel and Tasteassignment, the wedding prep full of strangers, and even the man she was marrying.
The long sleeves of her princess-cut dress were lace, finished with a high neck, a tight bodice, and a skirt that flowed into an incredible train. Serena transformed into royalty.
And as I forgot all my frustrations, I remembered: not too long ago, we were all girls—navigating divorce and grief and abandonment, staying afloat in waters too dark to see anything around us. We had never been alone, though. Not really.
Why couldn’t we appreciate what he had while we had it?
She looked untouchable now—soft-focus and gilded, the kind of person whose armor relied on a kind word instead of steel. Somewhere between her first heartbreak and this moment, Serena learned how to survive without us. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or furious.
Georgie sniffled, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look more beautiful.”
“You look perfect,” I echoed.
Serena gave us a swish, beaming as she did. “It’s a Vera Wang.”
“You could wear a potato sack down the aisle and still look gorgeous,” I retorted.
Ivy laughed and nodded from behind the camera, snapping a few more photos of our reactions.
While the assistant pinned up her train, my stomach began to twist. The ceremony would start in four hours. That leftvery little timeto corner Serena and potentially sneak her out to the getaway vehicle.
“S, we really need to talk,” I began, stepping forward.
Her eyebrows knitted together. “About what?”
“We just want to make sure—”
For the second time that day—or was it the third?—the sound of a knock on the door interrupted me.
Ivy rushed over to open it. Minerva waited on the other side, hissing something into her ear piece and blindly motioning us toward her.
“Jesse and the photographer are all set up for the first look,” she explained.
I glanced back at Georgie. She threw her hands up, wide eyes flitting between all of us in a panic.
“What did you need to talk to me about?” Serena asked.
Minerva tapped her heel against the hardwood. Ivy scrolled through photos on her camera. The assistant trembled like a chihuahua in the presence of her boss.
“Later,” I squeaked. “After photos?”
She squeezed my hand and rushed by in a flurry of lace. The doorway vacated, and the air seemed to go with her—brightperfume and laughter—all of it vanishing down the hallway to be absorbed in the distant murmur of wedding prep. Ivy waited by the door with an expectant smile, signaling for us to follow.
I didn’t move, fixated on the empty space Serena left behind, every nerve screaming that I’d missed my moment. Georgie hovered at my shoulder.
“We’ll catch her after,” she whispered, but the words rang hollow—like a promise made too late.
Somewhere beyond the door, I could already hear the click of her heels fading, the machine of the day swallowing her whole.
The more it dragged on, the harder it became to breathe.
