“You clean up good, Baldwin,” I say with ease, beaming as his face mirrors mine.
“You look beautiful,” he responds, eyes still fixed on mine. “Nice pearl necklace.”
“Was that a dirty joke?”
“Do you want it to be?” He switches his voice to a husky tone, his eyebrow raised, poking fun at my question.
“Funny.” I chuckle lightly. “Wait till you see my next dress. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”
“You wouldn’t believe how dirty my imagination can get, Richards.” He glances back at me with a wicked smile and does that thing with his lips again, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother me. Quite the opposite as every roll, flick, and slither of his tongue against his lips has me drawn to him.
What the hell? Ignore that, Zoey. Shake it off. It’s like some vortex trying to suck you in.
Nervously, and trying to control my stutter, I ask him, “Ready to go, plus one?”
Drew opens the front door and politely waits for me to pass. “After you. Mademoiselle.”
***
Mia looks gorgeous in her satin gown which hugs her figure nicely. It has long sleeves and a low back with a million buttons. The sheer fabric sits beautifully against her Asian complexion. According to Mia, it took a year for Troy’s aunties in Greece to make this dress. I can see now why Mia was so paranoid about gaining some pounds. There was no room for any weight fluctuation.
I’ve been to several weddings but never one this long. With Troy’s Greek background, the mass is performed in Greek and English. Two hours feels like an eternity and reiterates the fact that I should never marry a Greek man.
Eloping to Vegas with Elvis waiting at the altar—that’s my perfect wedding.
I spend most of the two hours taking in the beautiful architecture. The church is a hundred years old, and the entire building is still in its original condition. The pitched ceilings are made out of old oak wood with hanging pendant lights to brighten the space. The main area is adorned in gold—plenty of it. Yet, even with its age, everything is pristine.
Mia and Troy have added their own personal touch with lilac satin draped along each pew and fresh lilies intricately tied to each row. Beside me, Drew twitches his nose from the scent of the flowers. Occasionally, he suffers from hay fever, and given the number of flowers, I wouldn’t be surprised if my plus one bails on the reception.
Jesus, the priest needs to hurry up.
Oh my God, Zoey, don’t say that in church.
I’m going to hell.
When the final applause erupts, I welcome the end with an overenthusiastic clap. Mia walks down the aisle with Troy as the guests smile in adoration. I can see the weight lifting off her shoulders. She welcomes the congratulatory response and beams as they make their way outside. Waiting for people to exit our pew, I scan the church until my eyes lock with another pair of eyes staring right back at me.
Did I just see?
No, your imagination is seriously on crack or so
mething. It’s the two hours of being trapped inside a church with hundreds of other people, some who could do with a bit of deodorant.
Fresh air. You need some fresh air.
The eyes continue to stare at me with curiosity, then slowly, moments later, a gentle smile spreads across his face. The same face that has tormented me since the day I met him.
It’s Jess.
With every breakup, there is this curiosity—or perhaps more like fear—of the first time you see your ex. There’s a checklist for the best scenario you can hope to achieve. You know, look your best and act like the mature one who has moved on with someone better. Be able to smile and put the past behind you.
So, I look fabulous. Well, at least my dress does. I’ve gained extra pounds thanks to the jerk.
It’s a wedding. No other occasion could have me looking like a show pony, so that’s a positive point.
In my head, our song, The Flame by Cheap Trick is playing like a broken record. My heart is beating erratically, and I’m on the verge of a panic attack. How is this even happening, and why didn’t Mia say anything to me? And worst yet, why do I suddenly miss him?
I try to push my way faster through the crowd, rudely motioning for everyone to hurry along.