Chapter 6 — His Perfect Wedding

"He'll be nervous," I told my mother the next morning.

"Good," she said from the tablet. "So was I."

Nathan stood just outside the bridal room with his jacket over one arm. He'd spoken to Mom the previous evening, while I waited in the corridor pretending not to listen.

When he'd come out, he'd told me she'd asked whether he understood I didn't need another person taking charge of my life.

"What did you say?"

"That I was beginning to notice."

Now Mom could see him over my shoulder.

"Your collar's crooked, Nathan."

He looked down, then straight into the camera.

"I was hoping the distance would hide that."

"It hides very little."

I took his tie between my fingers and straightened it.

We both went quiet.

Up close, I could see the tiny nick near his jaw where he'd shaved. His eyes stayed on mine while I smoothed the fabric against his shirt.

"There," I said.

"Thank you."

He didn't step away immediately.

Neither did I.

Mom cleared her throat, enjoying herself.

"I'd like to see the dress before everyone else does."

Nathan smiled and left us alone.

I backed far enough from the tablet for her to see it. The seamstress had fixed the strap perfectly. I could lift my arms, sit down, breathe.

Mom pressed her fingers to her mouth.

"Oh, Audrey."

Behind her, Denise leaned into view.

"Stand still. I'm taking a picture."

I stood still.

For once, that was all anybody asked of me.

Maeve knocked a few minutes later. My friends were seated. The video connection had been tested, and the celebrant had reviewed our words.

"You still have time to change your mind about any of it," she said.

I looked at the small card in my hand. I hadn't written forever. I hadn't written anything about owing Nathan love because he had been kind.

I'd written what I could honestly give.

"I'm ready."

My phone vibrated on the dressing table.

Preston.

Where are you? The driver couldn't find your flight.

I read it, then handed the phone to Maeve.

"I don't want messages during the ceremony."

"Of course."

"And afterward, I want him told directly. No guessing."

We had discussed that the day before. A private message to him, a notice to the Iceland coordinator, and a short piece of ceremony footage so he couldn't insist the whole thing was an empty threat.

Maeve would ask the coordinator to stop presenting me to guests as Preston's bride.

She would not send the party video. My mother didn't need her illness turned into a wedding spectacle. Neither did I.

"I'll handle the notice," she said. "You handle your day."

I took my bouquet.

White sweet peas. Exactly what I had ordered.

At the hotel outside Reykjavík, Preston adjusted his cuff links while his best man searched the breakfast room for a missing garment bag.

"Maybe she flew in this morning," his friend said.

"She'd have told me."

Preston checked his phone again.

Audrey had not answered.

He hadn't liked the message she'd sent from the airport. He hadn't liked the inventory, either. But she was careful with things. Of course she would make a list even while trying to teach him a lesson.

Ten years together, and she still expected him to chase every mood.

He opened their conversation. Her last message sat beneath his instructions about the car.

I told you on Saturday that our engagement is over. I am not coming to Iceland.

He locked the screen.

"She's making a point."

His friend grinned.

"Let her. She'll come down when she's ready."

Sienna appeared in the doorway wearing a pale champagne dress with a structured skirt. In the morning light, it looked almost white.

Preston frowned.

"Is that what you're wearing?"

She looked down.

"You approved it."

He had. She'd shown him a photograph over dinner. He'd barely glanced at it.

Now she stood in front of him, and Audrey wasn't there to make the distinction obvious.

"It's a little bridal."

Sienna laughed.

"Don't tell me you're getting superstitious."

His mother called from the lobby before he could answer.

"Preston, come downstairs."

He heard something in her voice that made him put on his jacket.

The welcome display stood beside the entrance to the ceremony room. His father was looking at it without speaking.

His mother pointed at the photograph.

"Explain this."

Sienna moved up beside Preston.

"It was a joke. Audrey knew."

"I asked my son."

Preston looked at the photograph properly.

He remembered choosing it because Sienna had said Audrey would never let such a ridiculous picture stay up. She'd probably phone them in ten minutes, and he'd win back the watch he'd lost on their previous bet.

Audrey hadn't called.

Now she crouched in the corner of the display while he held another woman's hand beneath a welcome message.

Two guests stopped behind his parents.

"Is the bride here?" one asked.

"She's getting ready," Preston said.

His mother turned to him.

"In which room?"

He couldn't answer.

"She's late," he said instead.

"For her own wedding?"

He took out his phone.

This time, he called rather than sent a message.

No answer.

He tried again, walking away from the display.

Behind him, Sienna was explaining that Audrey had been stressed at work. His mother interrupted her to ask the hotel coordinator where the photograph had come from.

Preston heard his own name in the answer.

He ended the call before it reached voicemail.

An email notification appeared.

Final notice regarding Audrey Bennett's participation.

I stopped at the chapel door.

Nathan was waiting at the front, his hands loosely clasped. One of my friends gave me an encouraging nod from the second row. Mom's face filled the tablet beside the first.

The celebrant smiled but didn't start speaking until I moved.

There was no one holding my arm. No one directing my pace.

I walked toward Nathan.

He took one step forward when I reached him, then waited for me to offer my hand.

I did.

The celebrant explained that we were making personal promises, marking the beginning of a relationship we intended to build honestly. Our friends knew. My mother knew.

There was no false certificate waiting in a drawer.

Nathan's thumb rested against my knuckle.

The videographer stood to one side, filming me as I unfolded my card.

"I nearly gave this day away," I said.

My voice shook on the first sentence. Nathan didn't squeeze my hand to hurry me through it. He waited.

"Not because I didn't want it. Because I'd started believing wanting something made me difficult."

I looked at my mother.

"I'm not promising to stop being afraid. I'm promising not to let fear make all my decisions."

Then I looked at the man beside me.

"And I'm here because I want to be."

Preston watched the first seconds of the attached footage on his phone.

Audrey wore a dress he'd never seen.

Behind her were the windows of the chapel she'd shown him so many times that he recognized them immediately.

Ireland.

His friend leaned over his shoulder.

"What is that?"

Preston turned away, but his mother saw the screen.

"Is that Audrey?"

The hotel coordinator had received the same notice. She approached with a tablet, read the message once more, and quietly instructed a staff member to stop seating guests.

"Mr. Whitmore, we need to discuss whether this event is proceeding."

"It's proceeding."

"Ms. Bennett has confirmed that she will not be attending."

"She's upset."

His father looked at him.

"Then why is she wearing a wedding dress somewhere else?"

Preston couldn't make his finger press Play again.

On the frozen image, Audrey was smiling at somebody beyond the edge of the frame.

Sienna reached for his arm.

"It could be old footage. Or something she arranged to scare you."

He shook her hand off without looking at her.

His mother took the tablet from the coordinator and resumed the clip.

Audrey's voice filled the space between them.

"And I'm here because I want to be."

A man's hand held hers at the bottom of the image.

The camera began to turn.