Page 17 of Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

"Sorry. What's your something blue?"

"The blue forget-me-nots in my bridal bouquet. They remind me of my mom. They were her favorite flower, and she always said they matched my eyes."

"That's sweet," Jamie said. "You better get your dress back on. The next round of photos starts in twenty minutes." She paused. "I know it's better to take all these photos before the wedding, but does it bother you that Andrew will see you in your dress before the ceremony? I hope it's not bad luck."

"Are you kidding?" Harper interjected. "Lauren cannot have any bad luck. The Carringtons wouldn't allow it."

An uneasy feeling shot down my spine…not only because of her snide remark, but also because everything was feeling too good to be true.

ChapterFive

I caught my first glimpse of Andrew, standing in a shrub-enclosed area, perched on a grassy bluff overlooking the ocean. He was surrounded by a natural frame of palm trees and windswept flowers. The sea stretched endlessly into the horizon as the colors in the sky began to move toward sunset. The light was golden, warm, and forgiving, the kind of light photographers dream of, and I knew it would make our first-look photos even better.

The sight of him dressed in a black tuxedo, the gold in his hair sparkling as bright as his eyes, made my breath hitch—especially when his gaze found mine. His reaction was everything I'd wanted it to be, his lips parting with admiration, his smile making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

"You look beautiful, Lauren." He took my hands in his, his voice low and intimate, as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

My throat tightened, my eyes moistening at his words. "I’m glad you like the dress."

His thumb brushed over the back of my hand. "I do like the dress, but I love the woman who’s wearing it more."

"And I love you," I said, the truth of those words making me feel like everything was right in my world.

And then Megan and the media crew descended on us, directing us to repeat our first look—three times, from different angles. The clicks of cameras and low whir of video equipment invaded our bubble, breaking it apart piece by piece. By the time the wedding party joined us for more photos, I felt like a doll being posed, stiff and smiling on command.

The Carringtons arrived near the end of the session, sweeping in with their usual grace. Victor looked every inch the powerful patriarch in his black tuxedo, flanked by Bennett, whose darker mood contrasted with his polished appearance. Paula’s champagne-colored gown shimmered with intricate beading, and Harper and Jamie’s pale-gold dresses matched perfectly, elegant but not enough to outshine the bride.

We posed together endlessly—Andrew and me with Victor, with Paula, with Bennett, with all of them at once—until we were finally done with this location. Then the golf carts came to take our group through the resort, stopping at every photogenic corner: the stone terrace overlooking the ocean, the rose-covered arch near the reflecting pool, the twisting garden paths lined with bougainvillea.

Every scene was designed for romance, and every shot carefully staged for the resort’s marketing campaign. Andrew played his role perfectly, his arm wrapped around my waist, his smile warm and constant.

When the last photo was taken, Andrew pressed a kiss to my cheek. “See you soon,” he said, heading off with his groomsmen toward their villa. Harper, Jamie, and I returned to the bridal suite, where Taylor and Carrie hovered, ready to touch up hair and makeup. And then it was time for the ceremony.

Another golf cart took us from the hotel to the staging area, which was hidden behind a grove of trees. From there, we could see the crowd filling in the chairs set on a grassy bluff overlooking the ocean. We'd say our vows in front of an amazing arch of flowers, the sea in the background, and the sun sinking low enough in the sky to send streaks of pink, orange, and purple across the horizon.

Harper and Jamie disappeared almost immediately. Jamie wanted to check on her fiancé, and Harper said she wanted to mingle before the ceremony. So, I waited alone, with sweaty palms and a racing heart. Moving to the side, I was able to see some of the setup through the trees, and I smiled when I saw Andrew and Colin talking. But my smile faded when Allison McGuire joined them, giving each one of the men a hug, her embrace with Andrew lasting a lot longer than the one she'd given Colin.

They had definitely had more than a friendship. Jealousy and worry ran through me once more. But whatever they'd had together was over. He was marrying me, not her.

I just wished she wasn't here. And it puzzled me that Andrew hadn't considered how awkward it might be. Turning away, I saw Victor approaching me, and I put on my bride smile.

"Are you ready, Lauren?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be."

"My mother's necklace looks perfect." He gave me an approving nod. "I had a feeling it would be just the right finishing touch."

"It was generous of you and Mrs. Carrington to lend it to me."

"It wasn't a big deal. You make a beautiful bride, Lauren. I hope you and Andrew will be very happy. I know it may feel like we're losing sight of why we're all here, but I want you to know that I understand this is more than an event—it's your wedding. It's one of the biggest days of your life. I want you to enjoy every minute of it."

I was touched by his words. "I appreciate that. Thank you."

"You're more than welcome." He paused. "Andrew is a good man, isn't he?"

I was a little surprised by his question. "I wouldn't be marrying him otherwise."

"Of course. That's what I thought."

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