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His shoes clicked against the polished floor as he stepped up toward me. “You know damn well that’s not why you’re here,” I scoffed. If I hadn’t drank so much, if I was half of my usual self, I’d have punched him square in the jaw for daring to show his face. But I had enough cognitive power to know that I’d likely miss and bloody my knuckles the day before I was meant to marry who should have been the love of my life.
What if she is? She’d probably also chew me out for looking less than perfect. Don’t fucking think about that right now.
“Aw, Hunter.” Jared stuck his lower lip out as he stuffed his fists into his jacket pockets. “Unfortunately I don’t swing that way, so I’m not here to talk you out of it. Though the image of you and I riding into the sunset on horseback would be a sight to see.”
“Get out,” my father snapped, the deepness of his voice bouncing off of every possible surface. It was the tone he’d use on me and Fred as kids, one that always made me shrink into myself. But Jared just stared him down. “I swear to God, Keelings?—”
Jared’s hands lifted, his palms facing outward. “I’ll go, I’ll go. No need to get angry.”
Glass shattered somewhere in the back of the bar, and as if it had been thrown at him instead, Jared retreated like a fucking coward out the door, nearly falling into the security guard in the process.
Chapter 28
Lottie
My ribcage compressed again. “I can’t breathe.”
“I can literally hear the air going in and out of your lungs, Lots,” Dana deadpanned, her hands giving another swift tug on the laces of my corset. The tailor had done a good job of modernizing Mom’s dress—they had removed the puffy sleeves, lowered the neckline, and took out some of the fabric in the skirt so I didn’t look like I was playing a Disney princess. The corset was quickly becoming an uncomfortable feature that I wish I had removed.
Grumbling under her breath, Dana finally secured the laces in place and spun me toward the mirror. The woman reflected before me was barely recognizable yet all too familiar.
My dark hair hung in loose waves around my shoulders and breasts. With my makeup perfectly done and my veil in place, I looked strikingly similar to the photographs of my mother on her wedding day. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise—I was her flesh and blood—but the stark difference in why each of us wore this dress sat heavy in my heart.
I wondered if Mom had wanted to vomit up her intestines on her wedding day, too.
My nails sunk into the stems of the dozen dark red roses and baby’s breath that made up my bouquet as the handle on the door clicked open. Carol’s head of deep brown curls peeked through, her nurse's uniform just barely visible behind the door. “Someone would like to say hello before you get started,” she grinned.
“Oh, just let me adjust the train first.” Our photographer, a woman named Ella whom Hunter had hired, stood from where she sat with her camera around her neck and fiddled with the bottom of my dress. “Got to capture Dad’s first view of his little girl, right?”
My stomach churned harder and bile crept up into the back of my throat. “Right.”
“Ready?” Carol called.
“Ready,” I breathed.
I watched in the mirror as the door opened fully. Dad’s feet came through first, then his knees, and finally the rest of him as he sat propped up in his wheelchair. I wasn’t sure what they’d given him, but he certainly looked more alert than he had in the past couple of weeks. There was a sparkle in his eye and his cheeks looked like they had a bit of natural color to them. The camera clicked and the flash of the light boxes around me blinded me before I could even see his reaction.
“You look just like?—”
“I know, Dad.” I faked a smile just before another flash went off, guaranteeing myself at least one good photo of Dad’s reaction. I turned to him, keeping that muscle-aching smile in place, and took in the sight of my father. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” The wrinkles in his face deepened as his grin widened. He’d been resting as much as possible in preparation for today, swearing he’d make it, that he’d escort me down the aisle. I’d thrown up four times in the last week alone because of my thoughts surrounding it.
Of course, I didn’t want him to die. The thought of it, even though I was preparing myself, scared the living daylights out of me.
But if he hadn’t made it to today…
Well, I wouldn’t be getting married to someone who didn’t give a shit about me.
“I’m so happy,” I lied. The tears that welled in my eyes could easily be dismissed as tears of joy, and as much as it hurt, I kept a smile on my face as I wiped them away. “Is everything ready?”
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Dana chimed.
I nodded. It’ll be okay. It’ll be fine.
“Twenty minutes, Charlotte,” Erin, our wedding planner, called from the hallway.
I let out a slow, steady breath like I was breathing through a straw and stepped down from the little pedestal in front of the mirror. There was one thing I wanted to do before I walked down that aisle, one thing that was hanging over my head.
