Page 74 of Bridesmaid to Bride

Eva’s fidgeting hands have gone still, and it’s like she’s a statue carved from shock. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Really.” Because this is about me and speaking my truth—no matter how scary and painful it is.

I take a hesitant step closer, my heart thumping a solo that could wake the dead. “And there’s a bit more, so bear with me. I shuffle my feet, trying to find my words. “You see me—the real me—and like me for it. You’re impressed that I can quote every line from The Empire Strikes Back and love my endless musings about things that only exist in the imagination.” I whoosh out a breath. “You’re like this walking, talking highlight reel of all the good stuff in my life. You bring out the best in me, and doing absolutely nothing with you is better than doing everything with somebody else.”

She blinks, and for a second, I think I may have short-circuited her. But then a tear slips free, carving a track down her cheek, and I know this is eating her up inside.

Her lips part, and I brace for... I don’t know what. “I’m sorry,” she chokes out, each word wrapped in a sob. “This is so overwhelming.”

“Please don’t be sorry.” My hands flail in an attempt at comfort from a safe distance. “If I didn’t tell you how I felt, I would’ve always regretted it. And I don’t want to go through life with any more regrets—especially not this one.” I offer her a lopsided smile, hoping it’s enough to cobble the moment back together, to make it less sad and more us.

But she doesn’t smile back. “That was so beautiful.” Her voice trembles. She squeezes her eyes shut, and more tears fall. “You have this way of making me feel like the most special woman in the world.”

“Eva, you are. Period.”

She shakes her head, pain etched on her face. She’s wooden when she whispers, “This is why I never wanted to push this as more than friends. Because now that I did, everything’s over. For good.”

“I’m grateful for every moment I had with you.”

She pulls me into a tight hug. “You’re amazing. I’ll miss you, West Quinn. Everything about you. I’ll miss us.”

“Me too. More than you know.”

She lets go and opens the door. Her farewell is a quiet echo of footsteps down the empty hall. I close the door because if I watch her any longer, I’ll lose it.

38

The Boot

WEST

That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Telling Eva the truth knowing it wasn’t going to be reciprocated, but I did it, and now I can move forward—no regrets.

God, I should pull out of Groomsman to Groom feeling this way. Except I can’t do that. Eva and I are over before we started, and this show is my chance to save my parents and find my person.

Why would I give that up? Life is all about second chances, and this is mine. I’ll heal—I just need some time.

I try to shake off the feeling of complete and utter doom—tomorrow’s another day, another chance to put out fires—or start new ones. But for now, all I want is to crawl into bed and get sucked into the sheets.

I flop onto the mattress, and my tie feels like a noose around my neck. I yank it off. The dress shoes—which have been torturing my feet all evening—fly across the room, one landing with a thud against the closet door.

I grab the remote and thumb the power button. Starfleet and intergalactic diplomacy are always the best escape. But as the screen flickers to life, it’s not Captain Picard’s bald head that greets me—it’s Mia, and the Bridesmaid to Bride Special Wedding Weekend episode highlights are being re-shown.

I want to turn it off, but I can’t. I can’t because there on the screen are my parents, talking about their business ventures. “Our little shop brings pleasure to our clients,” Mom says with a huge smile.

I groan, watching Dad puff up like a turkey after Shitweasel’s snide remark, which you can’t hear. Bridesmaid to Bride isn’t permitted to show the senator or name him in any of the footage because of the contract they signed, but that doesn’t stop them from airing my parents. And without context, they just look like they’ve lost their minds. The fight erupts, and Mia says, “Paige and Zach’s rehearsal dinner became less black-tie, more WWE SmackDown.”

Then there’s me, jumping into the fray, defending my folks. My stomach churns with the knowledge that none of this will be forgotten anytime soon.

“Will there even be a happy wedding tomorrow?” Mia’s polished voice bursts from the TV, and my insides curdle.

Then the screen footage cuts to... Hayes? Hayes, who’s a behind-the-scenes photographer. He’s awkwardly standing there, a deer caught in the camera’s headlights. Mia’s voice chimes in again. “But let’s not forget the unsung heroes. Sometimes it’s the people behind the scenes who show true courage.”

“Heroic?” My face puzzles. “Hayes?”

What did he do? I manage a half-hearted grin because I can’t wait for this.

He’s on the beach taking shots of something and talking with Tyson, who’s behind the camera.

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