Page 83 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

Jordan whispers something in her ear, and her cheeks go red as she scrunches her nose and only half suppresses a goofy grin.

Watching the two of them earlier across the vineyard as they did a private reveal ahead of group photos—and watching them, anytime, really—is proof that true love does exist.

Even if it doesn’t exist forme.

I don’t know how they still manage to look that giddy, that in love, after being technically married for six months and living together again for the last few months after “dating” and then getting “engaged for real” in May. It’s all very confusing, but it works for them, and I couldn’t be happier for my friends.

I feel a squeeze on my hand and glance up at Kelsey, my closest friend. “You get any words written?” she whispers. She’s the only one who knows my secret. My current stress.

Claire peeks her blonde head out the door, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised. “You guys ready for the kiddos?”

“Yes, bring them out,” Chloe says, a clipboard in hand. The woman looks like a freaking model with her long hair in curls down her shoulders and back, heels the length of a football field on her feet, and curves that wind up and down her whole body. We each chose our own style of dress—Mare only cared about the colors—so Chloe’s picked a sleek halter gown with a slit that reaches mid-thigh.

Next to her, I look like a child playing dress-up.

Maybe I can finagle it so I’m standing on the exact opposite end of the bridesmaids’ line from her… Though, honestly, all of these women are beautiful in their own right, even my poor cousin, who needs both Frederick and Blake to help her off the couch where she’s been lounging, a mostly empty bag of potato chips on her round stomach. But even with swollen ankles and more filled-in cheeks, Lucy’s got the pregnancy glow working for her.

“April.” Kelsey squeezes again.

I shake myself from the distractions of my mind—the hazards of being a writer. “Not many words written at all. Like two.”

“Two thousand?” Her face brightens as she fiddles with the straps of her corset-tiered, ruffled gown, which I happen to know she designed and put together herself.

“Nope. Literally two.”

“Oh. Well?—”

“Kels!” her sister barks at her from a spot at the steps next to Landon. She points and widens her eyes in a look that communicates something to her twin I’m not privy to.

“Sorry,” Kelsey mutters. She gives my hand a final squeeze before letting go. “You’ll get there. I believe in you.”

“Thanks.” I sigh and wait my turn to be positioned.

Claire brings Scarlett to my side, and she spins her little white flower girl dress with a hearty laugh. I have to stop her from throwing flowers in the air right here and from chasing a tuxedo-wearing Ryder (the cutest ring bearer ever) around the little yard as we wait for the photographer to make up her mind about how best to place our huge wedding party.

Watching my daughter, with flowers in her hair and a gap-toothed grin that sparks joy in anyone she meets, is both a blessing and a curse. She looks so much like her father sometimes, especially when she’s wearing a mischievous grin or when she states something so matter-of-factly, with otherworldly confidence. Then there are her eyes. When she looks at me, it’s like looking back at him.

And I remember.

Those eyes, his eyes, used to drink me in, make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the room. From the moment we first connected to the last moment we breathed the same air, Ethan was my whole world.

And even though he didn’t want to be part of our lives anymore, at least he gave me a new world—the one that starts and ends with Scarlett. Unfortunately, even when I want to, I can’t escape him. Can’t go to a bar during hockey season without seeing his jaw-droppingly handsome face splashed on the screen, making heart-shaped gestures over his chest and grinning like a man without a care in the world. Without a regret.

And maybe he truly doesn’t have any.

I both want to smack him and kiss him—and that’s just not okay. I wish my stupid heart would just forget.

But then, there’s Scarlett, and I know I never will.

Finally, the photos are done and the music lilts through the air, and we walk down the simple grassy aisle toward the holly-wrapped arch flanked by classically lit Christmas trees. And Jordan and Marilee promise each other forever—this time, for real—and their kiss sets the tone for romance as couples in the audience give each other pecks as well, and the couples among our ranks make eyes at each other across the aisle.

When the ceremony’s done and we make our way to the reception area—expertly bedecked by Chloe’s team at Something Blue, with lights weaving overhead, silver-draped round tables covered in glittering snowflakes, and a cake table featuring a three-tiered Christmas-themed delight that Marilee made and decorated herself as part of Holly Cakes, the new cake decorating business she started while staying on part time at the bakery instead of buying it—we all find seats at the head table facing the rest of the crowd, which is made up of most of the town regulars.

We laugh at best man Blake’s stories of a threatening game of pool he and Jordan played months ago, and at matron of honor Lucy’s tales of how she knew before anyone that Jordan and Marilee would be a forever kind of couple.

Scarlett sits between me and Claire, but she keeps darting off to sit with my parents. I watch her dance with Papa Burt, and there’s a tiny ache inside me knowing she will never have a daddy-daughter dance with her own father. Never have anyone but me to walk her down the aisle. Then again, Marilee’s father is gone, but she still asked Jordan’s dad to give her away, and the man—who you’d hardly recognize since he started attending AA meetings and getting sober—said he’d be honored. Marilee seemed content with that, so maybe there’s hope for Scarlett.

Amid the scrape of forks against porcelain, the raucous laughter of the “Cupid Shuffle,” and the sparkling cider toasts (because ironically enough, Jordan and Marilee chose a dry wedding at the vineyard), I eat and laugh and raise my glass with everyone else.

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