Page 144 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
This would be the first and last time, that was for sure.
My phone pinged from the bedside table, and I sat down on the edge of the bed as I grabbed it. Two unread messages from Julian were the top notification, and I unlocked my phone so I could see what he wanted.
JULIAN: 1: Decorations ordered. Mum is collecting them tomorrow and putting them in your grandfather’s garage before 2pm. 2: Our first dance will be Unbreakable by Westlife. 3: I told your aunt it’s too late to change the seating plan so she can either suck it up or not come at all.
JULIAN: 4: Nana went on a bit of a rampage and gave both Hazel and your mum the biggest bollocking I’ve ever seen. Even I apologised, and I haven’t done anything wrong.
A huge laugh bubbled out of me, and I collapsed back onto the bed, throwing my arm over my eyes. I could only picture him sitting on the sofa sheepishly, constantly saying sorry for things he hadn’t done and would never do.
And finally.
The information I needed.
ME: Thank you. I appreciate that.
JULIAN: If you need anything, call me instead of Hazel. Are you doing ok?
ME: Yeah. I’m going to stay at Castleton Manor until the 23rd. Is Hazel all right?
JULIAN: She had a bit of a fit last night after Nana’s rant, but she came around pretty quickly when she realised I wasn’t siding with her.
ME: You didn’t argue, did you?
JULIAN: No. Even she gives in when she realises she’s wrong, you know?
ME: Not in my experience.
JULIAN: Well, she does. She just wants to know if you’re still spending the night before the wedding with her.
I sighed.
ME: Of course, I am.
JULIAN: That’s what I told her.
JULIAN: But for now, it might be best you don’t speak unless absolutely necessary.
I sat up and stared at my screen. He was right. I knew he was right. Heck, that’s what I wanted to do, but this was supposed to be a magical time with my baby sister right before she got married.
Still… Sometimes, the hard decisions were the best ones.
ME: I’ll forward you a copy of her appointment schedule for the next few days. Amy will be finehandling the MOH duties while I’m planning. We had this figured out anyway.
JULIAN: Got it. Are you sure you’re all right?
ME: Perfectly fine.
And I was. Or I would be.
Every wedding had its dramas. There was no such thing as a perfect wedding. Something went wrong every single time, and god only knew that Hazel and Julian’s day had had more than their fair share of fuck ups already.
What else could possibly—
Actually, scratch that.
I wasn’t even going to ask.
I knew far, far better than to so blatantly tempt fate.
