Page 109 of Something Borrowed

“Thank me by grabbing your own happiness.”

“What?”

He smiles at me. “You can’t expect happiness just to come along and stick to you.”

“Can’t you?”

He taps my nose. “Happiness is like a huge bunch of balloons filled with helium. They’re pretty and full of life and energy, but if you don’t hold on tight, they will blow away, and you won’t get them back.” He brushes his hair back. “Well, I must be off. I think I was supposed to be getting Rowena a buttonhole. Either that or a croissant.”

He nods at me and walks away, leaving me staring after him. I shake my head and grab my diary. The next stop is the kitchen to check on the food.

The wedding is beautiful,if I do say so myself. The guests are all dressed in rainbow colours, as requested. The women’s bright dresses shine brightly in the sun, and their fans flutter in the heat like paper butterflies, as one of my best friends commits his life to the serious but kind man he brought into our lives.

Leo and Rich look very handsome, but I can’t stop staring at Stan. He’s standing at Leo’s side in a dark grey morning suit and with Hump at his side. The breeze blows his curls, and dark sunglasses cover his eyes. He stands straight and tall, his attention focused where it should be.

Not me. My attention should be on making sure the drinks are ready, overseeing the reception afterwards, and checking whether the cake is still standing, but all I can think is how right it felt last night to feel him inside me, his body over mine pressing me into the mattress. It felt like my world had stopped its frantic spinning and finally settled into the right axis. Like I was a boat drifting and had finally found my anchor. And when we’d lain together afterwards, I’d felt safer than I ever have, because it was him.

There’s a cheer, and I jump up from my seat and make my way to where the waiting staff are standing with trays of Kir Royale. I grab a glass, smile my thanks, and take a sip of the sweet, tart drink.

I find Giannis, the manager. “Photos first, and then we’ll be ready for lunch,” I say. “You’ve outdone yourself, Giannis. The setting was absolutely perfect.”

His dark eyes smile at me, and he brushes the sleeve of his jacket, getting rid of a piece of confetti. “They are a lovely couple. I’ll circulate with the guests and make sure they all have a drink.”

I nod. “I’ll give you the nod to get them seated, and then we’ll bring Rich and Leo in.”

He nods and melts away, and I throw myself into organising. The sun is hot on my head, and the next hour is a blur of images—confetti filling the air in splashes of yellow and pink; Leo and Richard kissing; the click of cameras; the excited chatter and laughter of guests over the crash of the surf. But above everything, I’m focused on Stan as if there’s an invisible silken rope tying my thoughts to him. I smile when I hear his deep voice and want to hide it from everyone. Acknowledging my feelings is so delicate and new, like a flower popping its head over the soil and seeing the sun.

Finally, we’re done, and I watch as Stan walks back over the beach arm in arm with Rowena. Hump paces at his side wearing a harness decorated with flowers. My best friend looks tall and so handsome, the sun shining on his black curls. As I watch, he and his mum stop to talk to someone, and the way they cock their heads is so familiar and dear.

Someone clears their throat, and I turn back to realise that Leo and Rich are watching me. Both have smiles tugging at their mouths.

“Sorry,” I say quickly.

Leo winks. “Oh no. Do carry on staring at Stan’s arse. It’s not as if we haven’t got anything important to do today, Rafferty.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. That would be more convincing if you didn’t look like you were trying not to laugh.”

They burst into laughter, and I huff. “Pack it in.” I pause. “I wanted to say congratulations,” I say seriously, and they stop laughing. “I’ve seen many couples marry, but I’ve never been so sure of a pair as you two.”

Rich smiles at me. “Thank you.”

I shrug. “There’s just something about the two of you. I know you’ll be together forever.”

Leo’s eyes are bright, but then one eyebrow rises. “What do you say to the ones you know won’t make it?”

“Well, I always hope they will,” I say earnestly, and he nods. “I pretty much say the same thing, actually.” Rich starts to laugh, and I push him. “I mean it this time, though.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, wiping tears out of his eyes. “That was a mixture of sweet and serious mixed with undertones of psychopathy.”

“Well, I do try,” I say modestly. “Come on. Let’s go and eat.”

The meal is lovely,but I’m too busy to appreciate it. As the guests eat and talk loudly, I move around, directing staff where needed and nodding at the photographer to take candid shots. I snatch a couple of canapés and down a glass of wine, but there’s no time for more.

I stand against the wall, out of the way of the staff serving the lemon tart dessert. As usual, my eyes shift to where Stan is sitting. He’s on the same table as me and his family and two people who Vinnie told me are Pat’s current plus twos. One is a beautiful woman with long red hair and the other is a slender man with a goatee beard. They’re talking to Stan’s grandma who looks a little confused.

I grimace as I realise that Bennett has taken my empty seat. He’s hovering close to Stan, and even as I watch, he runs his hand down Stan’s arm. I tense, but Stan grimaces and moves so that the hand falls away, and I subside. Stan immediately turns back to the conversation he’s been having with Pat and his parents. Laughter rings out.

“Oi.”

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