Page 53 of Sins of Bliss

Vinnie

What should have been a five-minute drive to St. Sebastian’s takes us nearly twenty thanks to a fender bender blocking a lane, causing NYPD to have to direct traffic. It seems appropriate that I’d be late to my own wedding.

An omen, some would say.

As we pass the collision, the morbid thought of wishing it was me in the car that crashed passes through my mind.

The drive has been quiet as I stare straight ahead—other than to look at the accident—laser focused on the closed partition as Cecilia and Raina each hold one of my hands in their lap. The air is thick with the summer heat and unspoken words. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

“Look, I know I’m basically on my way to my own emotional funeral right now, but marrying August won’t changeme, you guys. We’re going to go in there, grit our teeth through the ceremony, then enjoy the reception. It’s an open bar, so we’re going to utilize it.”

Drinking away my sorrows doesn’t seem like the best of choices considering where I’m expected to sleep tonight, but there’s no way I’ll make it through everything without a few drinks in my system—and I’m not a drinker.

Truly, a glass of wine,maybetwo, is my limit. There’s nothing I hate more than the feeling of being hungover.

Well, that’s a lie.

I hate August more.

“It just feels a little hard to celebrate—” Cecilia begins, but Raina cuts her off.

“—but if getting wasted is what you want, getting wasted is what you’ll get, babe.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze both of their hands at the same time and turn my head to each of them to give them a small smile. “Your support means the world to me.”

“We’llalwayssupport you,” Cecilia stresses. “Even if we don’t agree with the decision, remember?”

“That being said,” Raina interjects again. “There’s still time to hijack this limo and make you a runaway bride.”

My thoughts drift to Sly and the time we spent in my hotel room—moments that I’ll always treasure. Though, I hope one day I’ll forget the look in his eyes and the way the light extinguished when I told him again that I was still going through with the wedding. Seconds later, a startling visual of Sly in an open casket plagues my mind and I immediately start shaking my head.

“No. I have to do this.”

When the driver pulls the limo alongside the curb in front of the church, I look out the window at the magnificent structure, sighing deeply. I’ve always admired St. Sebastian’s. It’s tall, pointed pinnacles, the stunning stained glass windows that decorate the front. Even the cross that rests on the highest point of the building sparkles against the summer sun.

Under any other circumstances, I’d feel a sense of peace knowing I was about to marry in the church I grew up in.

Our driver comes around to open the door, and Raina slides out first, accepting his hand for assistance. Cecilia leans forwardand grabs the bouquets, handing them to me one at a time. I pass both mine and Raina’s to her as she stands outside the car, then slides forward on the seat to follow her out.

Cecilia is out of the car faster than I can stand up straight, helping me smooth and fluff my gown on the dirty New York sidewalk. Taking my bouquet from Raina, I silently walk up the stairs that lead to the entrance.

Two men from my father’s security team stand in front of the doors in tuxedos, their hands crossed in front of them. Clear, coiled earpieces sit in their ears and I can see one of them is speaking into the headset he wears, likely announcing my arrival.

When I stop in front of them, the one who was talking tips his head in greeting, wordlessly opening the door.

The moment I’m over the threshold, I see my father waiting in the foyer. The heavy wooden doors leading into the church are closed, but even the dense oak that blocks us isn’t thick enough to hide the chatter of excitement from the guests that are inside.

“Sunshine, you look stunning.” He kisses the side of my temple. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I answer honestly, but he misses the sarcasm in my voice. Looking over my shoulder, he gives a curt nod to someone, and within seconds I hear music from inside the church begin.

In my peripheral, I see a man push off the wall and approach my friends. “Miss Lancaster, Miss Burns—they’re ready for you.”

One at a time, they come to give me a hug.

“I love you,” Cecilia reminds me as she squeezes me tight.

“I love you, too.” The look on her face is solemn as she backs away and takes her spot in front of the doors.

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