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“Time to pledge your endless love to each other.” I take her hand and smile.
We follow Sienna down the stairs and wait inside before the wedding planner signals and the music begins. Zara leads the wedding party, and I follow with the background sound of a harp playing romantic music.
As we walk toward him, Hugh shoots us both a smile, excitement etched all over his face. There is no sign of nerves. His face changes—the moment he sees his bride. Hugh wipes his eyes and beams his big, beautiful smile as if Sienna is all he sees.
Sometimes, you meet people who make your world a better place just by being in it.
It’s how Hugh described meeting Sienna. She made him feel like he belonged. She is his home—seen him at his worst and best. Knows what he deserves and laughs and cries with all the versions of him.
We all need a person of certainty who will comfort us at our worst. I would do that for Franklin.
The question is…Would he do it for me?
My heart tells me he would.
My brain tells me he would always be somewhere else. Working inanothercity.Anothercountry. Meeting withanothergroup of people.
He warned me…
Listening to my friends’ declaration of love offers hope.
The crowd cheers when the bride and groom’s lips meet, and in typical Hugh style, he dips Sienna and deepens the kiss.
“Let’s get this party started,” Zara whispers over my shoulder.
I take a moment to gaze over the crowd.
A girl needs hope in her heart when it’s a wedding.
He’s not here.
* * *
By the timethe speeches have finished and the tables are cleared of plates, the guests have consumed enough champagne to want to dance the night away.
I watch Hugh and Sienna sway romantically to the music while they stare at each other. The warmth of love oozes from them, wafting around the room and romantically inspiring their guests. Oohs and aahs sound quietly as women place one hand on their chests.
Zara takes the bottle from the middle of our table and fills our crystal glasses. She clinks hers with mine. “To friendship.”
I down my drink and stand. “I need the restroom.”
“Same.”
Scooping our long gowns in our fingers, we hurry off to the restroom. By the time we return, we’re both giggling when we stumble into the marquee, the impact of one too many wines making everything hilarious.
I pluck a long pink rose from a vase and hand it to Zara. “To forever being friends.”
She takes it and inhales the scent. “I do.” She hip-bumps me and stops like she’s seen a ghost. “Nine o’clock.”
“What?”
“Nine. Oh. Clock.”
I turn, and I lose all train of thought with Franklin Hendricks staring back at me. He stalks toward us, taking two champagne flutes from a waiter’s tray as he passes. He wears a black tux and is so impossibly handsome that I can’t look away.
“Remember, I said I do first.” Zara kisses my cheek, glides past Franklin, and takes one of the glasses from his hand. “Thank you.” She takes a mouthful. “Hurt her, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“Noted.” He turns and hands me a glass.
