Page 36 of Mr. Big Mistake
He softly kissed my forehead. “Just focus on me until we can get this sorted out.”
He massaged my scalp with his fingertips, and my eyes fell closed. The motions were relaxing, and I felt myself melting against his side. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his lap, doing everything in his power to calm me down. It was cute. It was romantic. It was caring.
It wasn’t at all like the Brenden I knew.
All too soon, the cab ride was over, though. And the two of us tore out from the back seat. Brenden practically threw money at the cab driver to make sure he stayed put. Then, he tugged me up the steps and inside the small chapel. I stood there as he headed for the receptionist’s desk. The place looked so… different, now. There were no snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. There was no plush, white carpet. The Christmas tree in the corner with twinkling lights had been taken down, and in its place was some fake rose bush that looked like it needed some serious sprucing up.
Or, a replacement.
“This isn’t the wedding of my dreams,” I whispered.
And as tears rushed my eyes, I heard Brenden incessantly ringing a bell off in the distance.
“Excuse me. I need to talk to somebody. Now!” he roared.
A man scurried into the foyer, and I recognized him. Santa Claus. The young, rosy-cheeked man that had actually married us last night didn’t look a damn thing like Santa Claus. Which hurt, for some reason.
Everything hurt, for some reason.
“What happened last night?” Brenden glowered.
I walked over to his side as the man stumbled over his words.
“Well, there was a bit of a mix-up with the paperwork. But, but it is my duty to deliver certified copies of--.”
Brenden shoved the paperwork against the man’s chest. “Where the fuck was the waiver!? How did this get mixed up!? How did our information get on this paperwork if we didn’t even fill it out!?”
I rubbed his chest. “Try to take some deep breaths.”
The man’s eyes grew sullen. “Look, Mr. Hearthstone. The receptionist that helped you coordinate all of this quit a few days ago. And we tried to pull together everything we could. But, I think my new receptionist got a bit confused last night, and it just--.”
Brenden’s eyes grew hard. “Let me get this straight: the woman I spent working and re-working this fake wedding with for the past week and a half quit, and you didn’t tell me?”
The man held up his hands. “I called her, and she walked me through where everything was. She was convinced this would go off without a hitch, even if she didn’t work here any longer. That’s why I didn’t panic about it.”
“You should have told me!”
“I’m so sorry, sir. I really, really am.”
“Look at those papers.”
The man swallowed. “Mr. Hearthstone--.”
“I said, look at them,” Brenden commanded.
The man sighed, but he looked down at the papers. And the guilt that washed over his face made me feel so bad for him.
“Does it look like things went off without a hitch?” Brenden asked.
While the men continued to bicker back and forth, I mindlessly pulled away from them both. I wrapped around them and opened the small chapel doors, taking stock of the plain atmosphere that greeted me now. The wooden pews needed waxing and filling. The stained taupe flooring felt unforgiving beneath my flip flops. My eyes scaled the walls, taking in the water damage that had seeped in from the ceiling somewhere. And as my eyes began to water, I slowly walked down that aisle. All the way to the front.
I slowly turned around.
It wasn’t the beautiful church I saw myself getting married in. There were no stained-glass windows. There was no glorious pipe organ to play processions. There wasn’t room to fit both sides of our families or beautiful hardwood floors that could be coated in rose petals. There was nothing in the place. Nothing but faded memories, moldy walls, and the faint smell of mildew hanging in the air.
I let the tears fall freely as I sat down, curling my knees against my chest.
“Kelly?”
