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This is romanticipation.
Even though it’s not my wedding day, I’m walking down the aisle with the best man.
A man who said I’m beautiful. Who dove into the pool to rescue me. A guy who was a perfect gentleman and unwilling to let me sleep on a slippery chair, yet respected my personal space.
My phone beeps from across the room, drawing me back to reality.
Nope. Today is not my wedding day. It belongs to Romy and Ross. Before I check the message, I see the time.
It’s half past noon.
I check again because that can’t be right. Flicking on the television, the hotel welcome message confirms the hour.
How did I sleep in? I haven’t slept past seven a.m. in recent memory. The dogs always wake me up. Then again, Magnus and I were up late. Early. I don’t know, but I spring into action because if I don’t get moving, Bridezilla is going to breathe fire.
Thankfully, Romy and Ross also overslept, and the ceremony isn’t until late this afternoon, but the next hours breeze by as I answer Romy’s every beck and call.
Repeatedly telling myself it’ll soon be over is the only thing that gets me through. Well, that and glimpsing Magnus a few times as I scurry through the hotel lobby checking on the flowers then back again to make sure the chairs are properly arranged in the garden, and once more because Romy is insistent that I take a photo of the rings and text it to her.
Each time, he was occupied and didn’t spot me—talking to a group of guests, on the phone, and then this last time giving a kid with dark hair a high five.
I recognize Nora, Ross’s brother’s wife. Tragically, Alex never got to know his dad, but he’s smiling and seems comfortable around Magnus which suggests he’s part of the little boy’s life.
And that he likes kids. Could be father material.
I stop in my tracks. What am I thinking? We’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours. I’m letting the stress of today go to my head and am looking for an escape hatch.
And to be real, being at Romy’s wedding reminds me that I’m getting older. I’m single. No prospects. After meeting Magnus, I’ve doubled down on relief that things didn’t work out between Ross and me.
If this were my big day with him, I’d be a runaway bride, halfway to Mexico by now. He and Romy suit each other.
Magnus, on the other hand... He’s taller than me. Ross only had me by half an inch. Magnus is strong and capable, and his voice...
It comes to me now. “Morning, Lally.”
“Morning? It’s late afternoon.”
His eyes bulge ever so slightly and then he says, “Yeah, I just meant, yeah.”
Nora looks from him to me.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Have you two met?”
“Once before,” I say. “It’s great to see you, Nora. Are you excited for today, Alex?” I ask.
“I’m here for the cake.”
I chuckle. “Me too, buddy. Me too.”
Magnus and Nora share a shaded look like his comment skirts toward a sad memory they share related to Sean.
Leaning over slightly, I say to Alex, “I happen to know all about the wedding cake. What’s your favorite kind?”
“Chocolate with vanilla frosting.”
I nod. “Your Aunt Romy got fussy about the cake and insisted it be layers of Grand Marnier, strawberry champagne, and bourbon hazelnut with a guava-infused buttercream.”
Alex pulls a face.
