Page 98 of Passing Ships

“Why am I so nervous? Is this normal?” she asks.

“Sure. All of this is life-changing. You’re twenty minutes and a few vows away from getting everything you’ve ever wanted. And everything that you deserve. I say you’re allowed a little case of nerves. Don’t you think?”

She nods.

“You know I love you, right? You held me together when my life was shattering. You made me get up every morning, you made me laugh, you made me believe everything was going to be okay. I’m here today because of you. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been because when I was fumbling around in the dark, you led me to the light so I could find my way to Sandcastle Cove.”

“I love you too. Always. Now, come on. Let’s get you dressed. There’s a super-sexy boat captain waiting for his bride,” I say through tears.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she cries.

“Where else would I be?”

She stands and throws her arms around me just as Naomie comes in, carrying her gown.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks.

Avie nods. “Yes. I’m ready.”

The wedding was beautiful.

The weather was perfect. Even the breeze off the ocean fell still for the ceremony.

As if God had paused everything for a few moments, just for Avie.

Sebastian dissolved into a puddle when she appeared on the beach on her daddy’s arm. Which caused me to start crying. Then the entire bridal party dissolved into a puddle.

After the ceremony, we posed for the photographer. Lennon angled me in a way to hide my peekaboo leg. Which was irritating and kind of sweet. Then, we made our grand entrance into the banquet hall, waltzing our way across the dance floor as Naomie announced us to the cheering crowd and Lennon didn’t step on my foot once. If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn the man had been dancing his entire life.

Now seated next to Allen at the attendants’ table while the caterers serve our entrées, I carefully avoid his glare.

Anson’s amused eyes volley between us.

“So, Allen, is that your Maserati outside?” he asks.

“The burgundy one? Yes,” Allen answers, as if the parking lot is full of Maseratis.

“It’s sweet as hell,” Anson says.

The two fall into a conversation about fast cars, so I stand.

“I’ll be right back,” I announce to the table. Allen looks up and smiles before turning back to Anson.

I stop to admire the cake, which is perched on an elegantly draped table, before slipping out to the powder room.

Milly is washing her hands when I enter.

“Hi,” I mutter.

“Hi, Amiya. Are you feeling better?” she asks.

Feeling better?

“Lennon told me you hyperventilated when you got stuck in the closet.”

I take a deep breath and word-vomit my confession. Letting the cards fall where they may.

“Mrs. Harraway, I’m sleeping with your son,” I blurt out.

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