Page 101 of The Secret Play

Instead, I met Casey.

Looking back on it now, there were clues. Every guy I met after him paled in comparison. Either they couldn’t carry on a conversation to save their life, or they were mediocre at best in bed. I kept comparing everyone to the masked man I’d only known as Red. No one else could live up to that night.

Megan stood behind me, curling my hair with practiced precision. Her focus was intense, but every so often, she glanced at me in the mirror with a small smile, as if she couldn’t quite believe this was happening either. “You’re going to look amazing.”

“You think so?”

She smirked, setting down the curling iron. “Gem, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re glowing, and you’re not even married yet. Casey won’t know what hit him.”

I smiled at her in the mirror, though my hands still fidgeted in my lap. My dress was simple but elegant, ivory satin that hugged in all the right places, flowing down to my ankles. I couldn’t wear anything I’d brought after I spotted this dress in the window at the hotel boutique. It was too perfect. The bouquet Casey had chosen—a mix of white roses and lavender—rested on the counter beside me, its scent soothing my nerves.

Casey had taken care of everything. He’d planned this wedding from start to finish, insisting I didn’t lift a finger. Somehow, he and Nico managed to do the big parts while I packed a suitcase and the smaller details while we were in the air. They were miracle workers.

“You handle enough for everyone else, and come season, I’ll need you to handle things for me,” he’d told me with that teasing smile. “So, let me do this for you.”

And he had. A spa day for me, Winnie, and Megan, a rooftop ceremony at sunset, and all the other details I didn’t even know about yet—he’d handled it all, saying he had some surprises up his sleeve still to come. I wasn’t a fan of surprises, but I’d gladly take whatever he gave me.

As she finished my hair, Megan carefully said, “We were never the girls who planned some big, elaborate wedding. But is this what you want for your wedding?”

I chuckled. “Well, it sets the tone for what I’ll pick as my second wedding?—”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m being serious. It’s not too late to say this isn’t what you want.”

I turned around and held her hand. “Meg, I want this more than anything. You’re right—we were never those girls who cut dresses out of bridal magazines or even thought about bouquets. All that stuff…it doesn’t mean anything to me. But I’m getting a beautiful wedding, despite my lack of planning, after a lush spa day that I got to share with you and Winnie. My daughter and brother are here. You’re here. I get to end the day with a husband who put all of this together for me, just so I could have a special day. I don’t think there’s much more I could want.”

She smiled and gave my hair one last fluff, then stepped back, folding her arms as she admired her work. “Then I think you’re ready to get married.”

I stood slowly, smoothing the fabric of my dress as I turned toward her. She was right. I was ready for this. I didn’t have butterflies or cold feet or any of that. I was happy and ready for more of this in my life. “Thank you. For being here, for doing my hair and makeup, all of it. This wouldn’t happen if you weren’t the best friend and babysitter in the world, and ready to take my baby whenever I needed you to.”

She smiled and sighed. For a moment, she just looked at me, her tough exterior cracking. “You’re going to be so happy, honey. And yes, I will babysit for her when you go on your honeymoon.”

“I haven’t even thought about a honeymoon.” I laughed as I threw my arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Don’t cry. You’ll ruin the makeup.”

I laughed, sniffling as I pulled back. “No promises.”

“I was talking to me.”

I laughed again, and she handed me the bouquet, then gestured toward the door. “All right, bride-to-be. Let’s do this.”

In the hallway, Winnie bounced on the balls of her feet, clutching her basket of rose petals like it was the most important job in the world. As soon as she saw me, she announced, “Mommy, I’m ready!”

I knelt down, adjusting the bow in her hair and smoothing the hem of her dress. Her dress was perfect because it was a similar one in her size but with sleeves. Megan had already done her hair into a pretty French braid and I let her wear pink lip gloss since it was a special occasion. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. You’re going to do such a good job.”

She nodded solemnly, her expression so earnest I had to bite back a laugh and a tear.

As we stepped onto the rooftop terrace, the cool evening breeze brushed against my skin. The sky was breathtaking, painted in shades of orange, pink, and gold as the sun began its descent. The terrace hosted several trellises and arbors, all woven with flowers and vines, and their scent carried on the breeze.

A green carpet path hooked right ahead of us, so we couldn’t see where we’d meet my future husband, but violins played, and their music came from that direction. An attendant spotted us and signaled down the trellis-blocked path, and the music shifted from light and peaceful to The Wedding March.

Winnie took her job seriously, scattering rose petals with determined precision as she made her way down the aisle. I wondered if, in her mind, she was playing hockey. She glided side to side as she moved forward, looking like the cutest hockey player skating down the ice. With every flick of her little hand, she covered the green carpet with pink petals. Megan and I followed a few steps behind her, but as I looked ahead, I stopped in my tracks.

Full rows of people were seated on either side of the aisle, their heads turning as we stepped into view.

I grabbed Megan’s arm, my voice a frantic whisper. “What’s going on? Did we get the timing wrong? Or—are these people at the wrong wedding? Are we?”

Megan looked just as surprised as I felt. “I don’t think so…”

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