Page 21 of The Problem with Players

With a resolve that seemed to come from outside myself, I swung my legs off the bed. My body protested, but I forcedmyself to stand. The room swayed around me, a sign of the effort it took for me to simply exist at that moment.

I steadied myself.

I had to.

For her.

I’d always steady myself for my sisters.

“I’m on my way. Be there soon,” I told her before hanging up the phone.

After I hung up, I stood still for a moment. I shut my eyes and took in a few deep inhales. Each one was a reminder that I was still here, I was still breathing, and I could still go on.

Then I shook off the shadows hanging on tightly and headed over to Yara’s to make sure she was all right.

“I’m so sorry,”Yara cried, covering her mouth with her hand. She was in a state of full panic as she stood before me wearing her bridesmaid dress, which was clearly too small. The black silk gown set tightly around her stomach as she had a full-blown meltdown. “I tried everything, and I mean everything, to get it on,” she swore. “I even laid down on my stomach to try to have Alex zip it that way, but it wouldn’t get past my hips.” She sobbed.

I sat in front of her on her couch with a slight snicker slipping through me.

“Avery! It’s not funny!” she ordered. “Your wedding is in three weeks, and my dress doesn’t fit! How can I be your matron of honor if my gown doesn’t fit?”

My wedding was in three weeks.

That sent a panic through my system that I wasn’t prepared for.

“It doesn’t matter,” I swore. “You could wear a trash bag, and it would look good, Yara. Who cares?”

“A trash bag is all I’ll be able to fit in soon enough,” she said, still crying, still convinced she would ruin my big day. Truthfully, though, I didn’t care. If I had it my way, my bridesmaids could’ve worn any dress that they felt comfortable in. Wesley had a very different idea of what our wedding would be, though. I never really saw myself as a woman who’d have a wedding, let alone be married, but I knew it was important to Wesley. Therefore, I let him take the lead.

He wanted a formal black-tie event, with the ceremony in our small town, then the reception at a fancy mansion on the outskirts of Chicago, which cost more than I was willing to admit.

Daddy covered many of the wedding costs even though I told him not to. It was just last year when he paid so much for Yara and Alex’s nuptials, yet he said it was not a big deal at all. “I’d been saving up for these days,” he told me. I asked what he would have done with the money if we didn’t get married. He replied, “Given you a big check to use of your free will.”

That was a tempting option to me instead of having a whole wedding. I did not like the spotlight on me, and the idea of wearing a wedding gown all day instead of jeans and a T-shirt was enough to make me groan from discomfort. A nice courtroom wedding would’ve been fine with me. I didn’t need the glints and glimmer. Unfortunately, my fiancé did.

“How about this?” I took Yara’s shaky hands into mine and led her to the couch. As she sat, I heard the seams of the dress rip more, which brought on more tears. I tried my best not to laugh, but it was slightly funny. “We will go into Chicago a few days before the wedding and pick out a black dress that fits you perfectly. We’ll try all department stores until you feel at your utmost comfortable.”

“I won’t match Willow’s dress,” she warned.

“Willow will come with us, and she’ll get the same dress as you. It’s not a big deal. And even if your dresses don’t match,they are both black, which is wonderfully close enough to me.” I wiped at her tears. “This is not a reason to fall apart, okay?”

She sniffled and nodded. “Okay.” She wiped her tears away and shook her head. “I just feel so bad. I want this day to be perfect for you. I don’t want to be the reason things look bad in pictures.”

“You could never look bad in pictures, Yara. Get those thoughts out of your head. And all I care about is saying ‘I do.’ Nothing else really matters. I’m just ready to have a husband.”

I think.

Maybe.

How did people know when they were ready for marriage?

“They are pretty nice when you get the right ones,” she agreed.

“Speaking of good husbands, where is Alex?”

“Oh, he didn’t know how to manage my breakdown, so he went to buy me donuts.”

“Smart man.”

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