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She comes to join us, wearing another jumpsuit and baseball cap, a laptop in her hand. “The first photos from last night just went up,” she reports.
Avery hides her face in her hands. “Don’t! I can’t look!”
“No, it’s great. The banquet looks amazing!” Brooke insists, nudging her screen closer. “Everyone just posted from the beginning of the evening, when everything was going great. People are freaking out over your dress,” she adds. “The picture we posted to your main account has over two million likes already.”
“It does?” Avery’s head snaps up, her eyes dry now. “Let me look!”
Brooke hands her laptop over, and Avery eagerly scrolls through the praise and ‘OMG’ comments. “Ellereposted it, so didVanity Fairandthe London Times!” she reports excitedly. “They’re saying it’s the wedding of the year.”
“See?” I say, relieved. “Nobody cares about a few little flies.”
“The advantage of having a guest list full of fame-hungry stars and wannabe influencers,” Brooke agrees. “They all want to make it look incredible, too. So everyone can be jealous of their fabulous lives! Look, Martha Stewart shared the photos of the cake, too. Even if nobody did get to try it!”
Well, almost nobody.
I’m hit with a vivid action-replay of Josh, kneeling over me, licking chocolate frosting from my breasts…
“…Hazel?”
“Huh?” I snap back to find Avery and Brooke are looking at me. I blush. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I said, the sunset cruise will go perfectly tonight, won’t it?” Avery repeats, and it’s clear, it’s not a question.
“I reviewed the plans yesterday with the Danes, and they’ve taken care of every contingency,” I reassure her. Avery doesn’t look convinced. “But I’ll double check again today, just to be sure!”
“Good.” She exhales. “Because Robert already thinks I’m some crazy Bridezilla. One more disaster, and he might just decide I’m more trouble than I’m worth and call the whole thing off!”
“He won’t,” Brooke reassures her, but I pause, torn.
“You know, it’s a big commitment. Marriage,” I venture slowly. “If you had any doubts, it would only be natural. Sometimes, it’s easy to get swept up in the dress, and cakes, and all the trimmings.”
Avery gives me a knowing look. “Is this where you tell me not to settle, and hold out for a rare and precious true love, like that best man speech last night? I’m surprised he didn’t come right out and tell Robert I wasn’t good enough for him,” she adds bitterly.
“I’m sure Josh didn’t mean it like that!” I lie.
Avery shakes her head. “Look, it’s sweet of you to even care about my happiness,” she says, with a quiet smile. “But I’m not swept up in romance, or going into this blind. I know what marrying Robert means. Maybe he’s not the great love of my life,” she admits, “But who’s to say that kind of love is ever going to come? No, really,” she adds, before I can protest. “It’s not guaranteed, is it? Plenty of people spend their lives waiting for The One, and still wind up alone in the end.”
I blink. “That’s… depressing as hell.”
Avery gives a shrug. “I’m just being realistic, that’s all. I learned a long time ago, fairytales are just that: fiction. Real life doesn’t always come with a happy ending.”
She exchanges a look with her cousin that I can’t read before continuing: “Robert is a good man. He’s sweet, and stable, and treats me like a princess. Life with him will be… fabulous,” she says, beaming an excited smile again. “Ifwe can get through this wedding.”
I exhale. Avery isn’t just waltzing around with her head in the clouds. She’s really thought this through. And I can’t argue with her reasons, even if I wouldn’t make the same choice in her (strappy Gucci) shoes.
“OK. If you want perfect, you’ll have perfect – I’ll make sure of it,” I vow. “I promise, nothing else is going to screw up this wedding week. Now, get out of here,” I add, rising to my feet, “so I can go yell at some Danes, and make sure we have a whole boat full of bug repellant for the shipwrecked beach dinner tonight.”
“You’re the best,” Avery beams, heading out the door. “See you for mud wraps and seaweed algae facials!”
She disappears, and I look at Brooke blankly.
“It’s a girls’ day today.” she explains. “The boys are off playing golf, and we’re all getting pampered at the spa.”
“Oh.” So, I won’t be able to accidentally bump into Josh any time soon… “Well, I don’t know, I’m pretty busy?—”
“You have to come,” she insists, pleading. “Otherwise, DeeDee and the bitch bridesmaids are going to peer pressure me into Botox shots and lymphatic drainage all day.”
“Lymphatic what now?” I ask, and she grins.
