Page 89 of Finding Forgiveness
Chapter27
Cassie
Igrab Jacinta’s hands and bounce up and down on the spot. “Can you believe you’re getting married today? In a matter of minutes, you’ll no longer be a Maloney.”
“Oh my God … don’t tell me that.”
“Why?”
“Becoming a Maloney was one of the best days of my life.”
“Ah, crap. Okay, let’s start over. You look beautiful, Jazzie … breathtakingly stunning.” Which is true. I thought she looked absolutely perfect the day she tried on her dress, but now it’s accompanied with the accessories, hair and make-up … she’s a vision. “Mason’s going to get a massive boner when he sees you walking down the aisle.”
Jacinta slaps my arm. “Don’t say that either. I don’t want all my family and friends seeing my soon-to-be husband’s erect junk.”
Gah. I bite the corner of my bottom lip as I try to think of something more appropriate to say. I’m her matron of honour … her support system on her big day, and I’m really fucking it up right now.
My train of thought is broken when someone knocks on the door. It’s Jim. His eyes move between the both of us and he smiles. “We’re ready.”
“Coming, Dad,” Jacinta says.
I grab both our bouquets and pass one to her. I still haven’t said anything monumental, so I go with the first thing that springs to mind. “Break a leg, bestie.”
She rolls her eyes, but at least she’s smiling when she does.I’m so lame.The lamest of lame. The worst matron of honour in the history of matrons of honour. I can only pray this marriage lasts because if it doesn’t, I doubt I’ll be asked to do this gig again.
Angel, Blake, and CJ are the first to walk down the aisle. A length of white carpet has been laid from the house, leading down to the large floral archway, where Mason and Connor are standing with the marriage celebrant.
The kids look so sweet. Angel in her frilly white dress, and the boys in tiny three-piece suits. She’s standing in the middle, sprinkling pink rose petals as she goes, and is flanked on either side by the boys who are both holding white satin pillows with a gold ring tied to each.
The song Mason and Jacinta chose for this moment is “A Thousand Years” by Ellie Goulding, and I’m suddenly feeling very emotional. I’m not sure if it’s the song or the fact that I’m staring at the groom’s best man as I place one foot in front of the other, wishing with all my might that it was us who were getting married today. Is marriage even on the cards for us? That’s a prospect I’m too scared to even think about. Wishing for things can only lead to disappointment.
As I approach the makeshift altar—with the stunning beach as a backdrop—where Mason waits nervously for his bride, my eyes are still glued to Connor. “I love you,” he mouths, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks a little emotional as well. Is he thinking the same thing I am?
A girl can dream.
I’m wearing a blush-pink, full-length, chiffon, sleeveless V-neck dress that has a sweeping skirt and a large split up the front that stops just above my knee. Jacinta and I both had our long hair set in large curls this morning, which the hairdresser then swept back off our faces, coiling the curls and entwining them into a full, loose bun at the nape of our neck.
My make-up is flawless, with dark heavy shadowing which has my caramel-coloured eyes popping, a bronzed glow highlighting my cheekbones, and a toned-down neutral gloss painted on my lips.
I take my place on the opposite side of the boys and turn to watch my best friend walk down the makeshift aisle, arm in arm with her father, to marry the man of her dreams. Her glistening eyes and radiant smile have a lump rising in my throat.
When she’s close enough, Mason swoops her into his arms and spins her around. Once she’s placed down on her feet, he dips her back and gives her a scorching kiss. It has me swooning on my feet. The love these two share is palpable. I couldn’t be happier to know my bestie is going to spend the rest of her life being adored by this man.
The last four weeks have been a whirlwind, to say the least. Pulling a wedding together in a month has been a mammoth task, with a few tears and tantrums along the way, but we got here in the end, and I’m so proud of everything we achieved.
There are only forty people in attendance because Jacinta and Mason wanted to keep it small and intimate. A mixture of family, friends, and work colleagues.
An expansive white marquee was bought in two days ago and erected on the grassed area of the Cavanagh’s vast estate.
Jacinta and I spent yesterday here, supervising the setting up of the interior, and I was impressed watching it come together. Complete with a wooden floor, chandeliers, white tulle that was loosely draped along the expanse of the ceiling, and entwined with fairy lights. The table settings matched the colour theme of the wedding … white and blush pink. A silver, three-foot-high candelabra, decorated with pink and white flowers and crystals, sits on a mirrored base in the centre of each table. The finished product took my breath away.
We slept here last night, because we needed to be up early for hair and make-up, and Brooke made us a scrumptious lobster and champagne breakfast. The boys stayed at a nearby hotel with Jim and Grace.
Once the vows are exchanged and more rose petals are thrown, the bridal party heads down to the beach for photos before we rejoin the guests for canapés and drinks on the lawn.
Connor hands me a glass of champagne before sliding his arms around my waist and pulling my back into his front. Leaning in, he whispers, “As beautiful as you look in this dress, Princess, I can’t wait to peel you out of it when we get home.” His warm breath caressing my skin makes it pebble with goosebumps.
Turning in his arms, I brush my lips along his. “Mmm,” I hum. “Something to look forward to.”
