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Outside the room, I hear arguing. A second later one of the bridesmaids bursts in, still clutching her bouquet and holding the length of her pink dress in one hand. Two other identically dressed women stand in the entrance, watching with twin frowns.
“We have to let people know what’s going on,” Sherilee says. “They’re getting restless. Drewfinallygot through to Presley and they’re speaking now but...”
I raise a brow. “But?”
“She’s not coming back.”
Shit. I stand and suck in a deep breath—this is going to be awkward as fuck. I’ve never been at a wedding where someone’s been jilted before. All the failed marriages I know dissolvedafterthe vows.
“Where’s Mike?” Gabe asks, standing and coming to my side.
“He’s outside in one of the private gardens with his parents. They’re trying to calm him down.” She toys with her earring. “But he’s yelling a lot. People can hear.”
“Okay, we need to shut this down now.” I head out of the room, and the rest of the bridal party follows me. The two other groomsmen are waiting in the hallway and Drew is walking toward us, phone in hand.
I meet her eyes and she gives me a resigned nod. It’s over and we need to let the guests know. I hold out my hand and she lifts her silvery-blue eyes to mine for a second before taking it. For now, we’re a team.
And after this is all done, I’m going to ask that we remain a team.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Drew
THATWASLITERALLYthe most awkward thing I have ever done in all my life. Having all those faces gaping like stunned fish while I tried to tactfully say that my sister had decided not to go ahead with her wedding...
Yeah.Majorawkward turtle.
Now the courtyard is empty, save for the celebrant who stands talking to my mother. After the guests were all ushered out, Sherilee, Annaleigh and Pauline hung around for a while, looking a little dazed and confused. The day ended upnotbeing capitalPPerfect.
Luckily for me, that’s the story of my life. I haveplentyof experience with shit not going according to plan.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful to have Flynn by my side as we addressed the crowd—he held my hand through the entire thing, letting me speak first and supporting what I had to say. He then took charge of thanking everyone for coming and helping the venue coordinator guide the guests of this ill-fated event out to the car park.
My mother demanded to know where Presley had gone and why she called the wedding off—but my sister made me swear not to say. So I didn’t. It’s her information to share.
Still, I’m reeling.
She’s supposed to be the strong one. The stable one. The one who gets married and has babies and does the family proud. Maybe us Richardsons are not destined for the white-picket-fence life—it never worked out for my mother, and it hasn’t worked out for Presley. If my sister can’t make it happen, then what hope in hell do I have?
The celebrant looks over in my direction and gives a wave before heading inside. My mother follows her without so much as glancing in my direction. That’s okay, let her be angry at me for not spilling the beans. If it keeps the heat off Presley, then I’m okay with that. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.
I guess all this has done is prove Flynn right. Peopledoleave. Even the ones we don’t expect.
Thoughts of him are like a knife twisting in my stomach. No matter how much I reason with myself that it’s not meant to be, my stubborn heart won’t take no for an answer.
If he wanted to be with you, he would have asked you to stay.
I toy with my phone, turning it over and over, mimicking the whirring going on in my head. I swipe across the screen and bring up my inbox, looking at the handy little reminder that the airline emailed me today. I’m less than twenty-four hours away from sand, sun and cocktail-drenched solitude. Less than twenty-four hours away from paradise.
But is it?
I’d wanted to go somewhere beautiful to get my head straight and think about what my next steps should be. Which country would I run to next? What person was I going to be when I got there?
But the more important question is: What kind of person do I want to benow?
The answer comes to me swiftly. I don’t want to be the person who runs forever.
I call the booking number and when the call centre operator answers, I blurt, “I need to cancel my flight.”
