Page 105 of Wicked & Wildflower

I nod. “And she never brings him up?”

Darby shakes her head. “Not at all. We mostly talk about wedding stuff. She seems…she seems happy for me.” Chewing on her lip, she adds, “I suppose it’s hard to convey tone in an email, but she at least appears enthusiastic.”

“That’s good.” I force a smile.

I’m not getting married, but even if I was, I doubt it’d be enough to warrant a check-in from my mother. I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat, attempting to physically shake off the unease.

“You okay?” Darby asks.

“Yeah,” I lie. “It’s these damn panties you have me in. They’re so uncomfortable.”

That’s not a lie.

Today is my thirtieth birthday, which is terrifying as fuck all on its own, but I’m being forced to spend the day in some upscale Beverly Hills bridal boutique, trying on dresses. The dress shopping I don’t totally mind; it’s just not how I’d prefer to spend my birthday. Plus, Darby insisted I wear the same undergarments I plan on wearing for the wedding itself so I can make sure everything fits correctly with my dress.

The panties are uncomfortable as hell, and my sister put me in one of her sundresses, which rides up on my thighs that are already sticking to the hot leather of her car seats.

I’d rather have spent my birthday laying in bed, having a crisis over my dying twenties and watching Love Island, Season Six specifically. It should’ve been my sister’s birthday spent at her wedding dress fitting.

“I promise, you’ll thank me for it later.” She smiles to herself, eyes on the interstate in front of her.

We had to leave early to make our appointment, because apparently, she couldn’t get her dress delivered at any other location than the one in Los Angeles, a nearly two-hour drive from Pacific Shores.

An hour and a half later, I’m lounging on the plushest couch I’ve ever had the pleasure of sitting on, stuffed with eclairs, watching my daughter twirl around the room in a poofy white dress with cap sleeves and gold accents. She picked it out as soon as we arrived and has refused to take it off.

Darby’s in the back with her wedding coordinator, Macie, getting into her dress. I offered to go back with her, but she told me she wanted to surprise me. I know that’s something typically done with the Mother of the Bride, but we don’t have that option, so I’ll have to do.

I tried on my dress when we first arrived— something Darby and I had picked out online. It’s simple, sage green and satin, with off-shoulder sleeves, a wrap around the midsection, and tight at the waist and chest.

It made me feel beautiful, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how Everett will react when he sees me in it. I still hate the underwear I have on—a silky thong that’s supposed to smooth out any lines, but the wedgie it gives me is unreal.

Darby also forced me into a blue floral dress that has my breasts just about spilling over the top.It’s your birthday. You should feel beautiful,she’d said as she thrust it into my arms before we left this morning.

It ismybirthday, but somehow, I can’t say no to her.

I’m smoothing out the fabric of the dress on my legs as Macie’s head pops around the corner, her shoulder-length curls shaking with the movement.

She’s a stunner, the kind of beautiful that makes you stop and catalog every single one of her features—bright hazel eyes, full lips, and a megawatt smile. Today’s the first time I've met her, and I find myself sweating a little every time she speaks. I mean, she’s one of the most approachable and personable people I’ve ever encountered, but I think I’ve got some kind of girl crush because she makes me nervous as hell.

I met her boyfriend, Dom, once when he stopped by Heathen’s to have lunch with Everett and Leo. He rendered me speechless too. I’m both excited and terrified to see what kind of kids they cook up together someday, because holy shit… Talk about a beautiful couple.

“Are you guys ready to see her?” Macie asks, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Yes!” My daughter claps her hands together.

She smiles, ducking back down the hall before returning a moment later with my sister in tow. Breathtaking doesn’t even begin to describe Darby, but as I struggle to catch my own, it’s the only word that comes to mind.

Pure white, strapless satin fits her chest and waist like a mold made for her before cascading to the floor in smooth, flawless rivulets. She has on matching gloves to just above her elbow. It’s effortless, elegant, and so utterlyher.

What’s truly striking, though, is her veil. Her hair is slicked back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and tucked into it, falling down her back and over her shoulders is a lace veil, embellished with flowers. Honeysuckles, I realize as I get a closer look. Small yellow, pink, and red honeysuckles are sewn into the fabric. They’re sparse at the top, growing more frequent as my eyes drag down the length of it.

Macie helps her stand onto the platform in front of the mirror before bending down and fluffing out the bottom of her dress and smoothing down her veil.

Stepping back to stand next to me, Macie, Lou, and I watch her take herself in. I can see tears pricking at her eyes as she slowly runs her gloved hand down her waist, smoothing out the dress. She takes a deep breath before turning to face the three of us.

“Well? What do you think?” My sister’s voice shakes as she asks the question, trembling with emotion.

“It’ssomuch better than your last one,” my daughter answers, ever honest. “You look like a princess.”

---