And who wants to simply float through life when you have the chance to swim, hand in hand, in uncharted waters with the people you love?
Claire
This is insane. Like, literally insane.
A week ago, the love of my life got down on one knee in the dining room of his family’s freaking estate and gave me a fifteen-carat diamond ring.
And I said yes.
And now I am wearing a wedding gown—white organza to the floor, a strapless sweetheart neckline. With a diamond encrusted waistband, and flowers in my hair.
How is this my life?
It’s like the moment I said yes to the possibility of a happily ever after, I was given one.
“Mama,” Sophia asks, tugging on my hand. “When does the party start?”
“Soon, Sophia. Can you wait a few more minutes? Then we get to walk down the aisle.”
“I get to throw flowers down the aisle, right?”
“Sure do, sweet pea.”
Emmy and Tess walk over to where I’m standing. The hairstylist is fixing my hair under the diamond tiara Sophia and Helen picked out for me.
“Is it too much?”
“Never too much,” Tess says, laughing. “Honestly, though, it looks perfect.”
“You really are a beautiful bride, Claire,” Emmy says. “Fiona, you too.” Emmy looks over at my future sister-in-law, who stands a few feet away.
Fiona’s gown is mermaid-style with long lace sleeves, and the cut hugs her curves. I never would have guessed Fiona had such a smoking body under her pantsuits.
“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Fiona asks, her face seemingly lined with worry. Looking at her more closely, I notice she’s biting her nails.
“It sure is,” I tell her, walking over and patting her arm. “You doing okay?”
“Sure,” she says, in a high-pitched voice, clearly trying to mask something. “I’m good. Just a little nervous all of a sudden.” Fiona’s face seems to have drained of color.
The stylist smoothing Fiona’s gown looks up reassuringly. “It’s just butterflies. Makes sense, all brides have a bit of the jitters.”
I don’t, though. I don’t feel anything but blissed-out-happiness. Still, I want to make sure Fiona is okay.
“It’s been a whirlwind of planning,” Fiona says. “And it feels like it’s come together too easily, like something has to give.”
“Or maybe sometimes life really is just perfect,” Emmy says, shrugging. “That’s how I felt with Ace. Like it was all too good to be true.”
Tess sighs. “You guys, I need to find a man so badly. This is starting to bum me out.”
“McQueen is single,” Emmy suggests.
“Haha,” Tess says dryly.
I try and conceal a smile, thinking McQueen and Tess would be a disaster together. She wants to be a man’s eye-candy. McQueen is enough candy all on his own. He needs a really confident woman, not someone still learning to live in her skin.
“I can’t believe Ashley Fast is going to be at your wedding, Claire,” Tess says, dreamily. “At your wedding, Emmy, she wore this amazing Vera Wang. I wonder what she’ll wear today.”
“Our wedding is more low-key than Emmy’s wedding,” I say. “We’re getting married in the left wing of this house.”
Emmy rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re delusional. The left wing happens to be a ballroom in a freaking castle.”
“True.” I shrug, shaking my head once again at the absurdity of the situation.
“You ready, ladies?” Helen says, walking into the room with my mom. They’re both wearing classy dresses with modest jewelry. Diamonds, yes, but they were both careful not to show up Fiona or me.
Fiona’s mom, however, didn’t get the memo. While she’s a single lady like my own mother, she opted for a plunging neckline and an up-do. I smile as she walks in the dressing room, remembering how Landon told me the two of them had a one-night stand.
Before, that’s something I would have been insecure about ... but not now. Now I know Landon only has eyes for me.
And that doesn’t mean I’m naive. I’m just sure. I have to be, considering we’re having a double wedding a week after he proposed.
And a few days after my own divorce was finalized.
Divorce. Wedding. Vows. Forever.
My head swirls with emotions, all of them competing for space.
But I can’t dwell on that right now.
Right now I just need to walk down the aisle. One foot in front of the other.
Except I can’t. I look around, knowing something just isn’t right.
I shake my head at my friends and family, who are walking out the door.
“Wait,” I say.
We can’t go out there yet. Not unless we are all sure this is the right thing to do.