Page 81 of A Winter Wedding Adventure
‘Fair enough,’ Kira replied, thinking of Tita, the whirlwind of an older woman who kept the administration running at I Do. ‘You’re an amazing photographer.’ If his subject had been mountain peaks or caves, birds of prey or chubby little marmots, Rhys wouldn’t have needed the encouragement, but Kira knew taking photos of people was far out of his comfort zone. Ginny probably thought he was simply a miserable person.
He was rather miserable, but he had his reasons.
Ginny approached and Rhys backed away rather conspicuously. Shooting him a puzzled look, Kira didn’t have time to wonder why as Ginny grabbed her attention. ‘It’s just about time to head over to the chapel.’
Kira realised too late that Ginny had cornered her.
‘Are you doing okay? I heard this story about your ex. It’s a shitty coincidence.’
‘I’m not going to ruin the wedding with my own drama, don’t worry.’
‘That’s not what I’m worried about,’ she said gently. ‘I’d probably be throwing up in the corner if I had to see an ex while trying to run a wedding.’
‘I have a strong stomach,’ Kira replied curtly.
‘I bet you do,’ Ginny replied with something like admiration in her tone – that Kira didn’t want to accept at first. ‘But we’re all here to help if you need it.’
Kira sighed. ‘To be honest, I just want to get it over with.’
Especially now she understood the greater hurt was still to come, when she woke up in her own bed at home with the knowledge that she was not going to see Mattia ever again.
32
T minus twenty minutes.
Half of the pews were full already and other guests were milling around, kissing friends and acquaintances on the cheek and probably doing exactly what they would have done at this wedding, if it had been at a bog-standard church wherever Joe had grown up.
Kira had to admit, though, that a bog-standard church was not Alessandra’s style, and this way, the wedding took place on neutral ground.
The placid priest was speaking to Rav, Hugh and a very twitchy Joe in the corner by the gold icon. Thankfully, the holy father had dispensed with all of the possible funny hats he could have pulled out of his vestry, although he was wearing a robe with festive red panels and gold detailing. After having so much trouble deciding on her own outfit, Kira had to admit the priest was rocking his with very little apparent self-consciousness.
Recorded orchestral music subtly bolstered the mood from the four tiny Bluetooth speakers placed around the church. It wasn’t a string quartet, but Sophie had known the perfect volume to set to enable comfortable conversation. More wedding magic Kira had yet to learn.
Everything was calm and organised, as serene as the spray of dusky-pink roses in the bower. Kira was shitting herself.
There had to be something she’d forgotten. There was still time to tactlessly ask Grandma how her dead husband was doing. Her phone might ring in the middle of the ceremony, even though she never had it set on anything other than vibrate because she couldn’t stand all the pinging and beeps. She might accidentally stand in Rhys’s line of sight while he tried to capture the big moment – or worse, sneeze right when they said ‘I do.’
Her nose was itchy.
The only redeeming feature of her stress levels was that they were drowning out any residual concern she had about seeing Christian. She’d built the encounter up in her mind to apocalyptic proportions, but in comparison to what Joe and Alessandra had been through over the past few days, what was a twinge of hurt pride?
In comparison to what Kira had experienced over the past few days…
Deciding to ask Sophie if there were more last-minute jobs, she stomped to the back of the chapel, clenching and unclenching her fists. Sophie looked up, her expression carefully neutral and kind, looking poised and perfect from her chignon to her brand-name tablet and stylus.
If she hadn’t seen Sophie soaked and bedraggled and officiating the world’s most moving wedding ceremony with mud in her hair back in September, Kira wouldn’t have liked her so much. But Sophie – and especially Ginny – had welcomed her on board with nothing but friendly and frank acceptance, even when she’d been resistant to the change and wary of… everything about this situation.
It didn’t mean they’d be happy if Kira screwed up.
‘Is there anything—?’ Her gaze snagged on the altar and she thought of something to do. ‘The candles. We haven’t lit the candles.’
‘Thanks,’ Sophie said. ‘And Kira?’
Kira skidded to a stop and turned.
‘No matter how things go, it’s too late to worry now. And remember, we’re all here to share the load.’
‘I don’t know how you guys do this over and over again,’ Kira grumbled. Snatching the lighter she’d seen under the lectern, she started with the pillar candles, releasing the subtle fragrances of rose and honey.
