“Do not disturb” signs graced almost every door as she made her way back to her room. Trays with silver domes were left outside almost every door, waiting to be picked up—and although the same blue sign hung on her best friend’s door, she couldn’t keep herself from knocking. Her fingers rested on the hard surface, waiting for the answer, but one never came. She dropped her forehead down to the surface, feeling a knot form in her stomach. Because she needed her friend to know the truth. She needed her to know that Tristan wasn’t just a fling to her. He was the man she’d been waiting for her entire life.
And she was falling in love with him.
The rest of the afternoon went by without a word from either Tristan or Renee. She knew they were busy, but having not talked to anyone left her with a million butterflies swarming inside her stomach and chest. She opened the door to the ballroom, where everyone was already waiting inside, standing around, chatting, and sitting in chairs that tomorrow would be filled with the audience. Because in less than twenty-four hours, her best friend would be a bride.
Samantha glanced around the room, finding Mark, Devon, and the rest of the wedding party flanking the side of the wooden arbor. She walked toward them, wanting to take her place at the head of the bridal party, but noticed they all had weird looks on their faces.
She turned around and found Tristan in the corner of the room, his ear to his phone, not looking happy. She swallowed apprehensively, noticing Mrs. Montgomery sitting in one of the seats, crying. Renee was by her side, and she instantly realized Mr. Montgomery still wasn’t there.
The wedding coordinator was standing at the top of the stairs by the arbor, and immediately urged Samantha forward. The woman positioned Samantha at the top of the line and adjusted her shoulders out toward the audience before looking over at Mark and Devon. “What’s going on?” the woman mouthed, but they both shook their heads as though not knowing at all what to say.
Samantha’s heart pinched in her chest, both tense and breaking at the same time. How could Mr. Montgomery not be here? How could he leave his family like this? His daughter?
The door to the ballroom opened, and everyone turned around, hopeful sighs released from their lips.
Samantha glanced up, saying a silent prayer that it was Mr. Montgomery, only to find Steven standing in the doorway. He made a face as though apologizing for interrupting, then walked into the room, wearing the pinstriped blue suit she’d picked out with him before he had interviewed with Connor and Associates.
The walls seemed to close in around her all at once, and she looked over at Tristan. He was still deep in conversation and hadn’t noticed Steven yet.
Steven continued toward her, seemingly clueless about the tension in the room as he walked up the steps. “Surprise!” he whispered, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
Samantha stepped backward, almost crashing into one of the other bridesmaids. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, but all the blood had left her body, and she thought she might faint. She glanced around the room to Mark, Renee, and Tristan, and discovered all their eyes were on her.
Steven moved in closer, narrowing his gaze just bit as he looked into her eyes “I left work for you. I thought you’d be happy.”
She shook her head, her throat so tight it was almost suffocating. “Didn’t you get my text?”
His eyes narrowed and he adjusted his stance. “What text?” he whispered back.
Tristan swore under his breath, but before she could turn around, he was already walking out of the room. Her heart constricted with pain and guilt, but she turned back to Steven.
Everyone was watching. Renee’s family, friends, Phin. But there was so much confusion in Steven’s eyes, so much hurt and pain that Samantha knew she was causing. She blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. Her mind flashed back to the moment he told her he wasn’t coming. To her sending the text. She had sent it right there in front of Tristan—and then she had fallen into the pool.
She covered her mouth, realizing what must’ve happened. The text didn’t go through before her phone had died. Steven had no idea she’d broken up with him.
Tears gathered behind her eyes, burning her nose and throat. Steven may not be perfect, and not be the most considerate at times, but he’d been one of her best friends for most of her life.
“Can I talk to you privately?” she whispered, barely able to keep her voice from quivering to get out the words.
She walked down the steps, hearing whispers of disapproval as she exited the ballroom, but she had to do this. He had to be told what was going on. She found a private alcove in the garden ten yards away, where she sat down on a bench and waited for Steven to join her.