Chapter Thirty-One
Landon
In our tuxedos, at the front of the ballroom where all our friends and family have gathered for the double wedding, I look over at Geoffrey.
He looks like shit.
“You okay, man?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says, rubbing his temples. “I feel like something is going to happen. Everything has been too perfect.”
My brows furrow as I try to understand what he means.
“You think Claire is going to back out of this?” I ask, my throat growing dry. That’s my worst case everything.
Geoffrey smirks. “Hardly. You guys are ridiculous; everyone who takes one look at you knows it.”
“Then what?” I ask, not knowing what could possibly go awry at this point. The room is filled with Mum and Dad’s friends, the officiant stands ready. The string quartet is cued to play the processional music as soon as we get word that the ladies are ready.
Dad walks up to us, dapper in his suit, but not looking happy.
“What?” I ask, the sinking feeling no longer in my throat—it’s lodged in my stomach. I close my eyes.
“It’s the brides,” he says. “Geoffrey, Landon, you need to come with me.
I give him a brief nod and we follow him out.
Fiona is waiting for Geoffrey at the bottom of the staircase. She looks beautiful, but my eyes scan the foyer for Claire.
Where is she?
Maybe it has been too fast, too much.
Maybe she’s backing out, fulfilling my worst fear.
“Where’s Claire?” I ask Fiona. It’s only then that I realize Fiona’s eyes are rimmed in red.
Fuck.
“She’s in your bedroom upstairs. Sorry, Landon.”
My jaw clenches, my legs move before I think. I take the stairs two at a time.
I need to see Claire.
Now.
I knock on the bedroom door, wondering how this could all fall apart so fast. Last night we had a big family dinner. Claire and I packed for our family vacation. She, Sophia, and I are going to Playa del Carmen for ten days in the sun.
I enter our bedroom, see our luggage stacked neatly—but I don’t see Claire.
The only place left is the bathroom.
The handle doesn’t move. She’s locked herself in.
“Open up, Claire,” I say through the door.
Now the vacation seems like a distant memory. Now Claire is locked in the bathroom the day of our wedding.
“Baby, talk to me,” I say.
“I don’t want you to see me, Landon,” she says through the door.
“What? Claire, are you okay? What’s happening? Fiona is downstairs with Geoffrey. I need to see your face. Claire, you’re scaring me.”
There’s a pause. One second. Two second. Too many fucking seconds.
Then she speaks.
“Oh, baby, you can’t see me because it’s bad luck. It’s our wedding. You can’t see the bride.”
My forehead falls against the door. Relief floods me.
“You’re not walking away? Calling this off?” I ask, my words betraying my fears.
“Landon,” she says briskly. “Why would you think such a thing? God, baby. You’re my everything.”
“Then what is going on?” I think of Fiona and Geoffrey downstairs. Fiona didn’t seem like a happy bride-to-be. “You know, Geoffrey saw Fiona before the wedding. They’re talking right now.”
“I know.” She pauses again. “That’s because they aren’t getting married today.”
“Shit.”
“I know. I saw it in her eyes, the last few days, but especially today. Right before we walked out of the dressing room, I stopped, needing to check in with her—and a million tears came to the surface. She can’t go through with it.”
“Is it wrong that we are, then? Is the whole wedding off?”
“No,” she says, adamant. “Landon, I am walking down the aisle.”
“Okay ... I hate talking through a door ... but do you know why she called it off? They’ve been together forever.”
“I think Fiona and Geoffrey got caught up in the idea of a double wedding, but there’s a reason they haven’t gotten married for ten years ... and rushing it now isn’t going to solve all their problems.”
My mind returns to the conversation with Geoffrey about a savings plan, and how he knew he needed to propose, how there was no reason to wait for what he could have now.
“Are they breaking up?”
“No,” Claire assures me. “They just aren’t getting married right now. They need more time, need to do this on their own terms, without the pressure.”
“But they aren’t us. These are our terms.”
“Exactly. Landon,” she says, “I want to marry you now. So, scoot your ass downstairs and let me be the blushing bride I never got a chance to be.”