Chapter 7 — The Groom Was Someone Else

The camera turned, and Nathan Hayes came into view.

Preston recognized him from the photograph on Audrey's phone: the man who had offered to help with the chapel. The man Preston had dismissed as a childhood acquaintance looking for an excuse to get close.

Now Nathan stood where Preston should have been, holding Audrey's hand.

"I can't promise you'll never have a difficult day with me," he said. "But I can promise I won't punish you for telling me when you do."

Audrey smiled.

Not the small, careful smile Preston had grown accustomed to. This one changed her whole face.

Nathan looked down at their joined hands.

"I'd like to learn the person you've become. And I'd like you to have the time to decide whether you like the person I've become."

"I already like him," Audrey said.

A few people laughed off camera.

Preston didn't hear the rest.

He reached for the tablet so abruptly that his mother pulled it against her chest.

"Give me that."

"No."

"Mom."

"You can watch it on your own phone."

The coordinator took a step back. His father asked her to arrange a private room where they could talk.

"There's nothing to talk about," Preston said. "I'm going to get her."

He called Audrey again.

Nothing.

Sienna caught his sleeve.

"Listen to the words. It's not a legal wedding. She's doing this to get a reaction."

Preston looked at her.

"Then she got one."

"Exactly. So don't give her what she wants."

"What would you suggest?"

Her gaze flicked toward the ceremony room.

"We could go ahead. Just with the photographs. She sees you with somebody else, and she'll realize how ridiculous she's being."

He stared at the champagne-colored dress. The ring on her hand. The welcome photograph she'd been so pleased with.

"With you?"

"Only until she comes to her senses."

"Take that dress off."

Her face went still.

"Preston—"

"Put on something else. The wedding is canceled."

His best man came closer.

"Pres, you don't have to do that. Everyone's here. We can at least make a joke of it."

"You think this is funny?"

"I'm saying she doesn't get to embarrass you like this. After everything you've done for her."

Preston opened his mouth, then stopped.

He had said almost the same thing outside Ruth's room.

His father turned to the coordinator.

"Please tell the guests the ceremony won't proceed. We'll cover the meal and anything else already committed."

"Dad, I can handle it."

"You can start by handling the people you invited to witness a wedding you knew wasn't happening."

"I didn't know."

"Have you spoken to Audrey?"

Preston looked down at his phone.

His mother noticed.

"What did she say?"

He didn't answer.

"Preston."

"She said she was leaving."

"When?"

"Last Saturday."

The silence that followed was worse than shouting.

The coordinator quietly offered to send Preston a copy of the cancellation notice. It included a short explanation from Audrey: she had ended the engagement a week earlier, had reiterated that decision, and had not authorized the Iceland event to represent her participation.

His mother read it twice.

Then she looked at the welcome photograph again.

"Was that a bet?"

Sienna started speaking. Preston's mother held up a hand.

"Let him answer."

"Yes," he said.

"And changing the location?"

"Yes."

She looked at the ring on Sienna's finger.

"That, too?"

He rubbed a hand across his mouth.

Sienna tried to pull the ring off, but it caught at her knuckle.

His father turned away to speak to the guests. No one needed the full history. The photograph was still standing in the lobby, and Preston's friends had been talking freely before his parents arrived.

Now those friends stared at their shoes.

Preston opened the footage again.

Nathan's hand rested lightly against Audrey's waist. She was looking up at him, listening.

Preston remembered a restaurant in Boston where she'd asked him to put his phone away. Sienna had been sending pictures of dresses she wanted his opinion on.

He'd told Audrey not to turn dinner into a competition.

It occurred to him, suddenly and with unbearable clarity, that he'd been keeping score the whole time.

"I need a flight to Dublin," he told his assistant.

The assistant, who had been waiting near the entrance with the schedule Preston had approved, hesitated.

"Today?"

"As soon as possible."

"You have the client call on Monday. The revised proposal still needs—"

"Book the flight."

Sienna stepped into his path.

"You're leaving me here?"

"I'm leaving."

"After all of this?"

He looked at her ring again.

"That was hers."

"You gave it to me."

He had.

For once, there was no version of the answer that made him innocent.

His father followed him to the entrance.

"Before you leave, send your assistant the proposal files. The team needs them Monday."

"I have something more important to deal with."

"Then delegate the work. Don't simply disappear."

Preston nodded without taking his eyes off the car pulling up outside.

"And don't tell Audrey this was all Sienna's fault," his father added.

Preston turned.

"I didn't say that."

"You were about to. I heard you explaining the photograph. You signed off on it."

Through the glass doors, Preston could see staff lifting the welcome display from its stand. One of them turned it sideways to fit through a service entrance.

For an instant, Audrey's small figure in the corner was all he could see.

He got into the car before his father could say anything else.

Nathan waited until the celebrant stepped aside before leaning toward me.

"Can I kiss you?"

I had imagined being kissed in that chapel for years. I had planned the light, the flowers, the dress. Somewhere along the way, I'd started treating the kiss as another item to get through correctly.

Now I felt it before it happened.

"Yes," I said.

His hand touched my cheek. He kissed me softly at first, giving me room to move away.

I caught the front of his jacket and stayed.

When we separated, he was smiling.

So was I.

Mom clapped from the tablet. Denise told us to do it again because she'd missed the picture.

"Absolutely not," Mom said. "You'll wear them out."

Our friends laughed. Somebody handed me a glass of water. Nathan found the chair I'd left my cardigan on without asking anyone to fetch it.

At lunch, I ate everything on my plate.

It wasn't until the others went outside that Maeve brought back my phone.

"The notice reached them," she said. "The coordinator confirmed she's stopped the ceremony."

I let out a breath.

"Thank you."

"You have some messages. You don't have to read them today."

I put the phone in my bag.

Nathan came over with two slices of cake and a problem.

"They both look the same. One is apparently yours."

"How can you tell?"

"Yours is larger."

I took the smaller one.

"You're very brave, contradicting my aunt."

He sat beside me.

"I've survived your mother. I'm feeling reckless."

Later, when the afternoon light shifted and the guests began saying goodbye, Maeve approached us again.

Her expression had changed.

"Audrey, Preston's coordinator called. He's arranged a flight to Dublin."

Nathan set down his glass.

I reached into my bag for my phone.

The newest message was from Preston.

Don't leave the manor. I'm coming to take you home.

I read it once, then showed Maeve.

"Please tell reception he isn't my guest," I said.