Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Okay,” the hair stylist says. “I’m done.”
“Me too,” the makeup artist says, setting her brushes to the side and backing away. “You can go look now.”
I’m a bundle of nerves as I walk to the bathroom. When I peer in the mirror; a dewier, much more polished version of myself looks back at me. My hair is braided and pinned up. My makeup is a little more extravagant than I usually go with. My lashes… my goodness! I love them long like this. I wonder what Charlie will think.
I run my fingers down the length of my dress, which is the ocean blue silk with triangular side cutouts I bought before I knew I’d be in the party. I twirl a bit feeling giddy, and smile at the way the floor-length gown moves.
“Grace!” Ellie calls and snaps me out of my little fantasy. Today isn’t my day. It’s Ali’s. “In here!” I call out but she’s already in the doorway.
“You look so pretty,” she comments with a smile that widens. I match it and tell her she looks gorgeous too.
“Love your dress,” I add and with my comment she does a half swirl with her skirt.
“It’s so funny how each of our dresses are different but they go together. These pictures are going to be A-ma-zing.” She emphasizes.
I can only nod, not trusting myself to speak. Sleep evaded me last night, knowing that after today, Charlie and I are probably going to be done with. It’s just for fun. That’s all it ever was. The pictures are just a reminder that I lied to his sister and mother.
I feel like a fraud taking part in this moment. As much as I feel bad for Ali, having some soon-to-be stranger in her photos, I feel more sickly knowing once tonight is done, the charade is over. I think Charlie would let it continue a while. But I can’t keep doing this, pretending like this is okay. It’s not just fun for me. Not anymore. I’m falling for him… hard. And I’m only going to end up hurt.
“The bridesmaids are all meeting downstairs for pre-wedding toasts.”
“Oh! Okay. Let me get my boots, and I’ll be right down. Don’t wait for me. I don’t want to hold anything up.” Where the hell did I leave those boots? The suite is littered with purses and makeup bags and all sorts of wedding paraphernalia.
Elli gives me a quick, “be fast” heading out of the room with the other girls. I make sure to thank the makeup artist and hair stylist, then hunt for my boots which are our wedding gift from Ali.
I check the shoe rack in the closet. They’re the only pair left. I’m careful sitting down on the bed not to mess my dress up so I can pull the boots on. The leather is fresh; the boots still brand new.
Who’d have guessed that the shine on my boots would last longer than my relationship with Charlie? Without sleep and all of these people around me who I’ve lied to, my insecurities are on full blast.
Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that coming, I tell myself. My throat feels tight as I stand up and hightail it downstairs. Exiting the elevator, I pick up my dress to keep it from dragging as I search for the girls, making my way to the hotel lobby. I pass the ballroom, where the reception will take place. It’s gorgeous. Mostly white and cream with pops of blue hydrangeas and blue glassware. Utterly magazine worthy. After checking a couple of empty rooms, I find the girls drinking from a silver flask in what seems to be a coat closet.
“Hey!” Sam says, eyes twinkling. “We were just warming up.”
“I see that,” I say, smiling. “Is it my turn?”
Lindsay hands the flask to me, and I take a swig. I wince; it’s bourbon.
“Wow. Strong,” I wheeze. Oh my goodness I was not prepared for that.
I pass the flask on to Ali. She looks at it, considering, then shakes her head. “No more for me.” She passes the flask and then shakes out her hands. “The adrenaline is in full swing and I can barely feel the last two shots but I know they’ll hit me.”
“You think the guys are drinking?” Ellie asks.
“The groomsmen definitely are. I saw Chris sneaking a whole bottle of whiskey into their suite earlier,” Sam confirms with a nod and then another short swig.
“I swear, Michael had better not be falling down drunk,” Ali frets, smoothing her hands over her dress.
“Charlie won’t let him drink too much,” I console her without thinking. As if I know whether or not Charlie would stop his soon to be brother-in-law from drinking on his wedding. I’ve never even met Michael.
I’m mostly assuaging Ali’s fears; I have no idea what Charlie will or won’t do.