Page 3 of Actually Yours

Except they are. The faces of the hundred-plus congregation—how do Bella and Daniel know so many people? And again, how could Daniel not find one person in this crowd to partnerwith me today?—follow my every step. And it may be that I’mimaginingthe pitying looks written on their faces as I sprint-walk down the aisle, as fast as my heels and the mermaid skirt of this gorgeous yet restrictive yellow dress will allow me. But it’s like every furrowed brow and slight head shake is a sad indictment of my single status. Like I need that kind of reminding.

Just a few more steps and then freedom.

Except, what awaits me on the other sides of these doors is more couple time, more playing third—seventh?—wheel in this group of twosomes as we make a procession line to accept the hugs and kisses from all the well-wishers, waiting to share their glowing congratulations with the bride and groom. And the friends of the happy couple. Couple, couple, couple…and then one lone woman. Wishing I was anywhere but here.

“You must be the friend, the spinster.” I’m startled from my internal panic at being the odd one out by Bella’s aunty, who had travelled all the way from Florence, Italy to be here today. To insult me, apparently.

“Not spinster, Zia,” Lucas, Bella’s older brother, gently chides the confused-looking woman in front of us. He’s standing next to me in this hellish procession line and has the privilege of witnessing my utter humiliation. “That’s not quite the English word for what you mean.”

The said aunty looks perplexed, and I mirror her expression. I get English isn’t her first language—and being unable to speak anything beyond the tertiary Japanese I learnt in high school, I admire anyone who is bi-lingual—but come on! A spinster is a spinster in any language.

“You mean,single,” Lucas clarifies with an embarrassed chuckle while my cheeks flame. “She means you’re the unattached member of the bridal party,” he continues to try to reassure me while making things worse.

“Ah, ok,” I mutter, happy to see the baffled-looking aunty being moved on by another kindly family member, who is also shooting me a sympathetic glance. When did being single become so taboo?

“Smile!”

The bridal party turns in unison at the command of the tiny but mighty photographer, who according to Bella is the best in the business. She’s working hard to move us into position and making us pose…all while looking natural. An oxymoron if you ask me.

“Are you OK?” Amy, Lucas’s wife and Bella’s new sister-in-law asks me through clenched teeth, as we continue to smile like maniacal evil geniuses. It’s almost painful holding this smile in place at this point.

“Sure, I’m fine.” I don’t want any of the focus of today to be on me. This is Bella’s day and I wish only the most perfect wedding for her.

“Don’t take any notice of Zia Anna. When we last visited Bella and Lucas’s family in Florence, she called me a young prostitute, when she meant to say young professional.”

A loud chuckle bursts out of me as I picture the scene and Amy’s giggles follow mine until we’re both laughing uncontrollably. The rest of the group stop their enforced smiling for the photographer and turn to us, keen to be included in the joke.

“I’m just filling Amelia in on the troubles we’ve all faced with the Italian-to-English language barrier,” Amy gasps out between snorts. “Aunty Anna just called Amelia a spinster.”

Another laugh escapes me as I try to ignore the sting that word still has in its tail. It’s just a silly misunderstanding.Why am I letting it get to me so much?

“Amelia, I’m so sorry.” Bella moves away from the arms of her husband and wraps her own arms around me.

“Don’t be silly,” I mumble into her neck while pulling her closer, drawing comfort from her nearness. I’ve only known Bella for eighteen months, but it feels like we were always destined to be best friends. And given Bella moved from the other side of the world only to stumble into the hair salon where I work on her third day in the country, it makes finding her even more special. “It’s fine.”

She pulls back and frowns at me. That’s the trouble with having a bestie who knows you better than you know yourself. She knows all my sore spots and she can see straight through my lies. She knows that my single status, after so many attempts at being part of a couple, is something that bothers me more than it should.

“Are you sure?” She says this under her breath as we make our way to where the shiny white stretch limousine is waiting to take us to the reception venue. I’ve seen the location, having visited it with Bella many months ago, and I know what awaits us: a beautiful white tented marquee, smothered in yellow ribbons and flowers, perched just by the ocean.

I squeeze her arm to my side and wobble a smile in her direction. “You know me, I’m working on being fine, being on my own. I donotneed a man.”

Her eyebrows draw down into an even deeper frown and I use my forefinger to push them back into place.

“Seriously, Bella. Today is all about you and that hunky man who is now your husband. My doomed love life is a discussion for another day.”

She opens her mouth, no doubt to argue with me and is interrupted by her husband winding his muscular arms around her and pulling her back against him. “Everything alright, Mrs. Richardson?”

I watch Bella melt into him and stifle the pang of longing I feel whenever I’m near them. Or Lucas and Amy. Or Oliver andLilly. Three perfect couples. I could look at them and see what’s possible, but after the disaster that has been my love life over the years, all I see when I look at them are my own failures. My inability to find what they’ve found.

“Everything is perfect, Mr. Mancini,” Bella teases her husband, turning to plant a soft kiss on his lips while he beams down at her. I know Daniel would go against tradition and happily take Bella’s last name, if that’s what she wanted. He’s willing to do anything for her.

“Then let’s get this party started!” This comes from Lilly, who’s already in the limo, an opened champagne bottle in her hand.Oooh, alcohol.Maybe that’s the ticket to making it through the rest of the day?

*****

Maybe not.

I’m on my fifth glass of champagne and have almost given up looking for the numbing effects a good bottle of champagne can offer. Sure, after the first glass went down and the crisp bubbles went straight to my head, things had been looking up. But then we’d arrived at this magical venue, the marquee lit with fairy-lights and candles, and filled with the light fragrance of vases upon vases of yellow roses, adding to the sensual vibe Bella was hoping to achieve, and I had halted at the seating arrangements of the bridal table.

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