Page 87 of Bridesmaid to Bride

Amidst the wreckage, I’ve discovered something unexpectedly profound: love is messy, chaotic, and unpredictably ridiculous.

45

The Grand Exit

WEST

The whole thing unravels so fast my brain can’t keep up, and neither can my legs as I run after Zach.

I can’t believe Foster was after Paige this whole time. And he’s the guy messing up this wedding! What a jackass!

When I finally catch Zach, a camera swoops in, probably trying to record every pixel of heartbreak on Zach’s face. I shoot the cameraperson a look that has them backing off. I mean, come on.

Zach isn’t slowing down, so I hustle after him, my shoes sinking into the sand and making me feel like I’m running through molasses. But every step, all I can think about is how Eva said my name during the vows.

What does that mean? Does it mean anything? It has to. Right?

Jesus. Focus, West.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Zach growls when we’re at the entrance to the resort. His jaw is set, a muscle ticking away.

“Lead the way.” I clap him on the back. We weave through the chaos. Once we’re in the lobby, I ask, “You okay, buddy?”

“Eh, you win some, you lose some,” Zach spits out as we tear through the resort lobby.

We split up and go to our separate rooms to pack. I toss my last pair of socks into the suitcase and slam it shut before heading over to Zach’s. When I arrive there, the room looks like a tornado hit, and he stands there, staring at his half-empty closet, the vacant hangers swaying.

“Hey, man,” I start, not sure how to navigate this shitshow. “What if we just... hijack the honeymoon?”

Zach spins around, eyes narrowing. “You mean the helicopter? The one meant to drop Paige and me onto our private island of love?” His voice drips with sarcasm.

“Exactly. It’s paid for. Might as well use it, right?”

A ghost of a smile flits across Zach’s face. “Screw it. Let’s do it.”

“Me, you, taking the chopper to the airport where we fly back to New York,” I say, trying to make it sound like an adventure.

“Damn straight.” He zips up his bag and heads for the door, determination back in his step. “But before we make our great escape, we have to get Balls.”

Balls, right. The dog I adopted from Zach. Except if Paige is out of Zach’s life, then he’s Zach’s dog again. My heart sinks at the thought of letting him go.

We find Balls sprawled on a dog bed in the conference room where the staffer is watching all the dog wedding party members. His tail thumps the mattress as we approach.

“Hey, buddy,” Zach says, squatting down to scratch behind Balls’s ears. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

Balls licks his face, and I take a deep breath, preparing to say goodbye to the furball that’s been my best pal for three weeks now.

“Guess he’s your co-pilot now.” My voice is steady, but my chest is tight.

“West...” Zach looks at me, and there’s a war going on in his eyes. Gratitude, pain, brotherhood—all mashed up in one messy cocktail. “...thanks, man. For everything.”

“Ah, don’t get all mushy on me.” I slap him on the shoulder. “Just make sure he doesn’t pee on your lap. He does that when he gets too excited.”

“Deal.” Zach hoists Balls into his arms. We exchange a look, no words necessary. Because that’s the thing about best friends—they’ve got your back, even when love kicks you in the nuts.

And with that, we’re off—to reclaim a chopper and maybe a shred of dignity.

We stride out of the resort, and Zach’s jaw clenches as we spot Paige’s wedding party clustered around the archway.

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