She wore dark emerald green, the same color as the other bridesmaids, though on her it looked indecently personal. The dress was elegant, fitted, and far too good at reminding me that I was expected to behave in public. Her hair had grown a bit since winter. She had kept the color, and I had never argued with that. I wanted her in every version life handed me, but Christ, Edwina in green still had the power to ruin every civilized thought in my head.
Helena stood between us in her own little green dress, a tiny princess version of her mother, all bright eyes and restless excitement. She held her cute purse as if it contained state secrets, looking so proud of herself that I might have smiled if Ihad not been busy trying to keep my eyes off Edwina’s body in the middle of a wedding.
Aster arrived with the other bridesmaids, also in green. The shade suited her differently than it suited Edwina, cooler somehow, more severe, her posture straight and her expression composed.
When we took our seats, I leaned close enough for my mouth to hover near Edwina’s ear. Her perfume reached me first, then the warmth of her skin, and for a second I forgot where the hell we were.
“You know,” I murmured, keeping my voice for her alone, “if you had any mercy, you would never have worn that dress around me.”
Her breath changed at once.
She turned her head slightly, close enough that her cheek nearly brushed my mouth. “Behave.”
I let out a quiet breath, darker than a laugh. “No.”
Her eyes flicked toward me, warning and warmth tangled together. I looked at her, then lowered my gaze over the green silk, the cut of it, the elegant cruelty of the whole thing. When I lifted my eyes again, I made sure she saw exactly what was going through my head.
“I can’t wait,” I said softly, “to rip that fucking dress off you.”
Color rose in her face, quick and beautiful.
“Hayden.”
Her voice carried just enough scandal to make my restraint worse.
I leaned closer. “Don’t say my name that way in public unless you want me to forget where we are.”
She laughed under her breath, and the sound went straight through me.
Helena, who had been watching the guests with open interest, turned and narrowed her eyes at us. “No secrets.”
I looked at her solemnly. “Your mother started it.”
Edwina shot me a look. “I did not.”
Helena considered us both with great suspicion. “You are both suspicious.”
Aster, seated on Edwina’s other side, gave a small breath of amusement. “That may be the most accurate thing said here today.”
For a few minutes after that, everything stayed ordinary in the fragile way beautiful days sometimes do before they crack. The music played. Guests smiled. Someone coughed near the back. The officiant checked his watch and tried to make it look discreet.
Then more time passed. The groom was still nowhere to be seen.
At first, no one panicked. Weddings ran late.
Then the room began to change. Guests glanced toward the aisle, then at one another. Whispers started softly and spread through the rows. Aster straightened first. Edwina noticed right after, her hand tightening beneath mine.
Another minute passed. The music faltered, recovered briefly, then stopped. And then Gwen appeared.
She came through the doors in white, mascara streaked down her face, veil crooked, expression shattered beyond anything that belonged at a wedding. The room froze around her. She looked as if grief had found her before the ceremony had even begun.
Edwina was on her feet instantly.
So was Aster.
“What the fuck—Edwina,” I snapped, catching her wrist before she could move too fast. In her panic, she had already forgotten the one thing I was watching for even when she was not. “Careful.”
She turned to me with panic in her face, furious and frightened all at once. I released her only once I was sure she had steadied herself and could cross the room without throwing herself into it blindly.
