Page 92 of Kiss the Bride

By the time I get out of the shower and dressed, Mitchel is gone. A note waits for me:

“All your questions will be answered at the beach. Don’t be late.”

I no longer have questions, but Mitch deserves to know my answers. Ensuring I don’t leave anything behind, I hesitate before heading down to the beach with my dead phone. Would it be against the rules to check in with the girls? Their villa is only a couple hundred meters away. No, I’ve made a commitment to give Mitchel one day and he has until noon.

The foliage hides the beach until the end of the path. When I look up, the first person I see is Hunter. His face is dark as thunder, fists curled into tight balls. He’s wearing white long shorts and no shirt. Tash stands proudly next to him in a short sundress, white with thin lemon stripes. She looks gorgeous, even with her nervous smile. On the other side of Hunter is Mitchel, in a white cotton shirt and white shorts.

Half a dozen drunken randoms mill around holding flowers, and I don’t even notice Jess until she hands me a handpicked posy of frangipani flowers.

“Thank you, I think,” I say automatically before inhaling the fragrance that reminds me of my grandmother’s garden.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jess hisses.

“What am I doing?” I ask as my breathing tightens and the long-forgotten signs of a panic attack start to take hold.

“Mitch said the two of you talked all night and this is what you want.”

Before I can answer, one of the randoms cranks up the music and drunken voices start singing, “Here comes the bride.”

“But, I …”

“I thought you’d chosen Hunter, but if this is what you want, I’ve got your back.”

What do I want?

I look to Mitchel, then to Hunter, and back to Mitchel again. I asked for romance, and Mitch is giving me a beach wedding, while Hunter seems prepared to let me go.

If Hunter won’t fight for me, do we even stand a chance?

Do You Take

Hunter

The moment I steponto the soft white sand, I know Mitch’s plan. He’s been too keen, too strategic in getting everyone down to the beach at this exact time. The arrangements scream of his desperation, a last-ditch attempt wrapped up as a romantic gesture. And Jess and Tash, they’re in the dark as much as Olivia, who steps through the bush, her face a mix of confusion and surprise.

Mitch: I won.

Mitch: She’s mine.

Mitch: Should I ask my fiancée if she wants you to give her away?

Mitch: Wanna be my best man or are you gonna run away like a crying bitch?

I didn’t want to believe, which is why I turned up and took my place at his side. I believed his lies—that whatever Liv and I shared here couldn’t erase what she and Mitch had. Mitch laid it on thick with the girls, convincing them he’d flown halfway across the country to win back the woman he loved.

I’ve buried hope in the bottom of my heart until Olivia emerges through the bush scrub, a vision in white with her wet hair dripping onto the jacket that only accentuated her bronzed body underneath. I know my girl—there’s no way she would agree to an impromptu wedding without her friends helping her with hair and makeup.

Mitch lied to me.He probably lied to her. He gave her the perfect wedding with only one problem—he’s the wrong groom.

This place, a beach wedding with Olivia, would have been perfect for the two of us. Our mothers would have howled in protest, but we could have eloped and gone back for arealceremony. It’s so on brand for us that our mothers would be more surprised if we sent out invitations in advance.

Olivia can’t hide the flash of panic when she understands what’s going on. This hasn’t been planned, at least not with Liv. I don’t know how Mitch conned her into wearing white or coming to the beach at the right time, but that only proves I’ll never underestimate him again. After a brief falter, she continues to walk to the makeshift arch where Mitch is all smiles and smugness. He’s playing his part, the returning hero who hasflown across the country to reclaim his love, but I don’t think anyone here is buying it.

Jess keeps shooting me dirty looks—is she trying to get me to stop things or back off? I cock an eyebrow and she subtly nods, a silent agreement that if I make a move, she’ll back me. Tash is beside her, eyes flickering between Mitch, Olivia, and me, her expression tight. But when she’s about to say something, Jess places a cautioning hand on her arm and whispers. The girls look to Liv, to me, and back to Liv. They have her back but need a sign of what to do. They’re not the only ones. If this is the wedding of Olivia’s dreams, I’ll cheer her on.

But, if she has been conned as much as the rest of us, I refuse to stand by and let Mitch bully her into a lifelong commitment. No fucking way.

Olivia takes her place next to Mitchel and in front of a local celebrant who commences as if it’s St. Mark’s Cathedral, not spur-of-the-moment nuptials. “We are gathered here today—“ blah blah, fucking blah.

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