Page 76 of Love in Fine Print

Her left shoulder shrugged. “I guess.”

I wasn’t sure how to take her level of enthusiasm orabsenceof enthusiasm. I couldn’t help but take her disinterest personally. Yes, I was aware that the wedding was just a formality, it was for show, but we still had said I Do.

We both lowered down onto the couch. Dolly hopped up between us and curled into a ball.

“There’s a montage and also a link to the proofs,” Olivia explained.

I grinned. “I’ve always loved a good montage.”

She synced her phone to the television and I watched as the words Bradshaw Whitaker Wedding filled the screen. A soft pop love song played in the background as the scene opened on Olivia getting ready with Trevor and Bailey.

I watched, mesmerized, as she got her makeup done, she pulled on her garter belt and then slid into her dress.

It wasn’t that I’d forgotten how beautiful she’d looked that day, I hadn’t. But seeing her again, from this perspective, after living with her for the past four weeks, was even more powerful.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Glam teams can work wonders.”

Over the past month, I hadn’t been able to curb my compliments to her. I’d noticed that now, instead of telling me that I didn’t need to say that, she just sort of subtly deflected. My hope was that after this year, she’d be able to accept my compliments without any buffers.

The next slide showed Trevor zipping up her wedding gown.

“Your dress is incredible.”

“Thanks.”

I sensed there was a little bit of disappointment in her response. I couldn’t imagine there was anything not to like, but I heard myself ask, “You didn’t like it?”

“No, it was fine. I just…that’s not the dress I wanted to wear, I mean, it’s not the dress that I thought I’d get married in. It’s not my dream dress.”

“Why didn’t you wear your dream dress?” I asked, even though I figured I already knew the answer. She was saving her dream dress for herrealwedding. The thought of her walking down the aisle toward another man made me feel possessive and upset.

“It takes four to six months to come in…so.”

Hearing her say that made me realize that she’d probably imagined what her wedding would be like a thousand times, and the day we’d shared was most likely not the wedding of her dreams. I’d never thought about what my wedding would be like since I’d never planned on getting married, so I hadn’t really given it much thought.

As the pictures flashed of me getting ready with Jake, Coach Graham, and Declan flashed on the screen I asked, “How different was our wedding from what you thought you’d have? I mean, besides the obvious.” I grinned, referring to the fact that I was sure she’d probably imagined being in love with her groom.

Her eyes widened slightly. “A lot.”

My heart sank in disappointment. Even though our union was unconventional, I wished we could have at least had the day she’d wanted. “What would your dream wedding have been?”

Her attention remained on the screen; her expression unreadable. I wasn’t sure if she hadn’t heard me, or if she was just ignoring my question. I was once again struck by just how high the walls were that Olivia had built around herself.

Sometimes I felt like I was chipping away at them. I’d get a glimpse, a tiny peek at who she was behind the cold, impersonal demeanor. But then, other times, I felt like the walls were higher than they’d ever been.

I was just about to drop it when her shoulder lifted in the slightest shrug and her face softened. “Well, for one thing, the guest list would have been cut. I never wanted a crowd when I got married. I didn’t want it to be about anyone else but the man I was marrying and me. My mom’s weddings always had hundreds of people there.”

“Weddings? How many times has she been married?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” I repeated, sure that I’d heard her wrong.

She shifted on the couch as she nodded and stroked Dolly’s head. “But I’ve only been to eight. I wasn’t there when she married my dad, well, because I wasn’t born yet. And then, after they got divorced, she’s been married twelve times. I went to the first eight but skipped the last four.” She sighed. “They were always huge affairs. They were spectacles. At least the one’s after my dad. She and my dad eloped, and maybe I’m biased, but whenever I look at the photos of my parent’s ceremony compared to the huge extravaganzas of the other twelve, I just think that in their wedding all the focus was on them, not the crowd or the pigeons, or the fire eater?—”

“Fire eater?” I clarified.

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