Her Best Men

Even though I was about to be his wife.

I sighed as I sat back in my chair, my eyes scanning the beautiful ballroom. It had a country feel to it, with all the shiplap and the distressed beams that held up the high ceiling. The chandelier was covered in mason jars. It cast light in all different directions, illuminating even the darkest of corners. The blonde hardwood floors were a steep contrast to the dark-tinted shiplap, but all of it was fused together by one element: the beautiful view of a field from the windows that wrapped around the room.

“How’s your food, Michael?”

He stopped his conversation midway and slowly panned his gaze toward me.

“Hm?” he asked.

“Your food. How is it? Cooked the way you like? I made sure to talk to the chef for you,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s not really for us anyway. You know all of this is for them,” he said.

“It could be a little for us, too. It’s why I booked the ballroom, so we could dance a little.”

“Don’t be stupid, Katie. We can’t dance at our rehearsal dinner. It’s bad luck.”

“Stupid?” I asked. “Since when is dancing at a dinner stupid and bad luck?”

“Hold on,” he said before returning to his prior conversation.

I was stunned. Had he really just called me stupid? I could see some of the glances from the other women around the table, but they weren’t glances of pity. Instead, they were glances of understanding. Trying to silently soothe me into a lifestyle I had chosen. They sat with their hands crossed in their lap and their hair perfectly done. Their makeup was spot-on, and their dresses didn’t have a wrinkle in them. They were nothing but trophies to the men sitting beside them as laughter erupted from the table.

> Laughter that made me wince.

Michael and I hadn’t laughed like that together in so long.

“I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like anything, Michael?”

“You shouldn't be drinking tonight, Katie. You know how you get when you drink,” he said.

“It’s only a small glass of wine,” I said. “Would you like something? A beer, maybe?”

“When have you ever seen me drink beer?”

The look on his face reached out and painted that word on my forehead. Stupid. Michael was looking at me as if I was an idiot.

“Be right back,” I said, murmuring.

I got up from my chair and walked quickly by Whitney and Lizzie. I made my way to the bar, my hands trembling as tears threatened to flood my eyes. The bartender was looking at me with this pathetic glance as he poured me a glass of merlot, and I sipped on it as I sighed and closed my eyes.

“Ah, there she is,” a familiar voice said.

“The beautiful blushing bride.”

“You look wonderful tonight, doll.”

“Wine? Since when do you drink wine?”

“Hey there, guys,” I said with a grin.

I embraced all four of the brothers as they stood around me.

“And to answer your question, Caleb, I’ve been drinking the stuff for years,” I said.

“I can dump it and get ya a decent beer if ya want,” Caleb said.

“I’m good. The last thing I need to be doing is getting drunk at my rehearsal dinner,” I said.