But it wasn’t me. None of it was me.
And that had to be fine, because I wasn’t here to fulfill some lifelong dream.
“Alright, you’re looking depressed. Either tell me what’s going on or I’m getting champagne.”
I tugged at my dress. It was gorgeous and perfectly tailored to my body, the bust revealing just the right amount of cleavage, my chest covered in delicate lace, the beading understated yet elegant, the train short and easy to walk in. I looked like a goddess, like a character from a TV show—
And I never would’ve picked it out in a million years.
“You know the cliché? About all girls wanting a wedding and stuff?”
Roza nodded and leaned against my arm. She stared into the mirror and put her head on my shoulder. “I know this isn’t what you pictured. But it’s pretty nice, right?”
“It’s amazing. Seriously Roza, you did such a good job. If I had planned everything, it wouldn’t be half so nice.”
“Thank you. I’m amazing.”
“But it’s not me, you know? None of it is me.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. If it helps at all, it won’t matter for very long.”
I shook my head. It didn’t help, but she was right anyway. “I’ll get over it. Just having a little moment of melancholy, that’s all.”
“Well, here, I have a surprise for you.” Roza walked over to her purse and fished out a phone. She dangled it in the air, unlocked it, then tossed it to me.
I caught it, but barely. “Hey, careful. I’m not exactly athletic.”
“No shock there. Open the phone app.”
I did as instructed—and sucked in a breath.
Winter’s number was programmed in and ready to go. I looked up and beamed at Roza.
“How’d you know?”
“I figured you’d want to at least talk to her before walking down the aisle.”
“Think she’ll answer? She might be working.”
“She’s home. I checked.”
“You think of everything.”
“Like I said, I’m amazing.” She stretched and cracked her neck like a boxer warming up for a fight. “Now I’ve got to get downstairs and make sure the caterers aren’t fucking up. You talk to your friend and I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay. Roza, seriously, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, darling. Just doing my job.” She blew a kiss and left.
I hit the call button and put the phone on speaker. It rang twice before Winter picked up.
“Cassie! Girl I thought you might be dead! Why haven’t you called me in like three days? Not a text, not an email, no communication from you at all, and meanwhile you’re running around with that rich new man of yours getting into god knows what trouble and I’m stuck here worried sick in Sea Isle—“
“Winter,” I said, cutting her off before she could spiral further.
“Right, sorry, hey. It’s really good to hear your voice.”
The knot in my stomach unclenched and I walked over to sit down on a big velvet chair that looked like it cost almost as much as the absurdly gorgeous dress I was wearing.
“Same to you. How are things back home?”
“Things are fine here, you know how it is. Where are you right now?”
“Atlanta. I’m about to get married.”
She laughed loudly and let out a shuddering breath. “God, what a weird situation. Are you okay?”
“I think so. I wasn’t for a little bit, but talking to you helps.”
“What’s wrong?”
So I told her, leaving out the details about what we were actually doing at this place. She listened like she always did, without interrupting her adding her own judgements or ideas, and when I finished she let out a long sigh.
“Girl, I can’t even imagine. You’re about to walk into someone else’s wedding.”
“But it’s my own.”
“Are you okay with that? I mean, are you safe?”
“I’m okay with it and I’m safe, just having a moment.”
“I hear you. Look, you know I love and support you no matter what, right? I feel like I should ask, are you sure about this? Is this guy Roman worth all this trouble?”
I closed my eyes and thought back over the events of the last few days.
“Yes, I think he is.”
“And is this wedding about more than, I don’t know, business or whatever it is?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Then walk down that aisle with your head held high and kiss that man on the lips. Slip him a little tongue too, remind him why he’s there.”
“You make it sound so gross.”
“Trust me, it’s not gross when I do it. Well, a little, but in a good way.”
“I really miss you. You know that, right?”
“I know it.” She laughed but it sounded hollow and strained. “If I could be there, I would.”
I curled my legs under me, tucking the dress in so it didn’t hang on the ground. “Tell me everything that’s going on back there. The tourist are showing up, right?”
“Tons of them. You should’ve seen this crew that rolled into the Lobster last night. Biker shirts, torn denim jeans, that sort of crap, and they ordered the silliest pink drinks and thought it was hilarious. Great tippers too.” She went on about the other employees and about the manager, and the more she talked, the more homesick I felt. I wished I could go back there and curl up Winter’s couch and listen to her chatter on and on for hours. I missed laughing with her, missed feeling more confident when she was around.