Page 3 of Breaking Point

“Shit,” the person mumbles, and around a snow cloud of white silk tulle, I hear a sniffle. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

“Emily?”

It takes a moment to register that it isn’t just anyone huddled away in the corner.

It’s the bride.

The same bride that’s supposed to be walking down the aisle in less than two minutes.

She sniffles again, and when she looks up, her eyes are twinged with red, still wet with tears. "It’s me.”

“Are you okay?”

“If anyone sees me, it will be a disaster. They’ll tell Derek, and Derek will cause a scene n-” She swipes at her eyes. “The whole thing falls apart.”

It’s an effort to bite my tongue. I should have called him out for every lie when I had the chance.

It’s almost over, I remind myself, drawing my attention back to the crying bride in front of me.

I don’t know whether to hug her or to clap her on the back for making the man wait at the altar, but I put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey…” I kneel, twisting her to face me. “Is everything really okay?”

She shakes her head, lip wobbling. “No.”

I rub soothing circles into her, careful not to wrinkle the neat layers of her dress. “Talk to me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insists, smiling suddenly as she wipes away the tears. “What do you usually tell the brides when they get cold feet?”

My back goes rigid. Most brides don’t talk to me about having second thoughts. Usually they reserve that for the bridal party. The parents even. “I- I can’t say I’ve talked many brides into walking down the aisle.”

She nods slowly, looking up so that more tears don’t fall. “That’s reassuring.”

Shit. That was the wrong thing to say.

“Derek loves you,” I blurt, and I want to hit myself for saying it.

It’s not that it’s untrue. I’ve spent enough time with them the last few months to know that Derek loves her with whatever kernel of room he has left outside of his own self-interest. The man’s conceited, not heartless. But I also sense that Emily isn’t with Derek for love.

She cares for him- loves him maybe, but she isn’tinlove with him. Emily’s more concerned with pleasing her mother by marrying someone rich, successful, handsome. Any bride wants to make their parents happy- even if it means they break bits of themselves away to do it. That leaves plenty of room for second thoughts andwhat ifs.

“Is love enough?” she asks suddenly. Her eyes are two watery globes full of honesty.

I wish I could say that Derek is an ass and that she deserves better. I wish I could say she’ll be happy, and that after this, there will be nothing but clear skies. But after today, there’s no telling whether Emily and Derek will get a happy ending. Years from now, I might see them looking radiant on the coverof a fashion magazine- exactly where they both belong. But her question isn’t asking about any of that.

Is love enough? Is love enough to get married? Is love enough to start a life with someone?

The truth is,I don’t know.The irony of being a wedding planner is cruel. I’ve only ever been in love once. I got my heart wrenched out of my chest, and I’ve spent years since guarding it tight.

Love wasn’t enough then… I sure as hell don’t know anything about it now.

When I look at Emily again, I can see her for exactly who she is. She isn’t a woman who will say no to a challenge.

I can do one of two things: I can share and commiserate in our mutual people-pleasing tendencies… or I can do my job and give this woman the best damn day of her life.

Love or not, she will enjoy her wedding day.

“What makes you happy, Emily?” I ask her, and her teary eyes blink at me twice before she sniffles again.

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