by Becky Monson
“Not helpful,” Ashley says, squinting her eyes at him.
“Okay, hold on,” I say, putting a hand to my forehead, “let me think.”
We stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, Ashley with her phone ready to go once I remember the name. People walk around us, not even taking care to notice us. They just keep walking.
Think, Bridgette, think.
“I’ve got it,” I yell, and get a few inquisitive glances from strangers. “Park Savoy,” I say, fast and breathless.
“Really?” Justin says, looking confused. “I would have thought they’d do something big, like the Waldorf or something.”
“Justin, have you ever been to the Park Savoy?” Ashley asks, an eyebrow raised in his direction.
“No,” he says flatly.
“Trust me, it wasn’t cheap.”
While Ashley is looking up the address for Adam’s wedding, I pull up the web on my phone and type in “Gotham Hall,” hoping they post their events, so I can find out the time of Ian’s wedding.
“I have an address,” Ashley says, pulling it up on her phone’s map app. “Now where is Ian’s?” She looks to me.
I give her the address, and she puts it into the map.
“What time is Adam’s wedding?” she asks, once she has the maps pulled up for both locations.
“Two o’clock,” I say, looking down at the time on my phone. It’s twelve thirty.
“And what time is Ian’s?” she asks, looking at me.
I search Gotham Hall’s site looking for a listing of events, but of course I can’t find anything.
“I can’t find any information,” I say, my heart sinking.
“Never underestimate the power of the Internet,” Ashley says, typing like a madwoman into her phone.
“Got it,” she says loudly, after a few minutes of furious searching.
She looks up at me, sadness written all over her face. “Ian’s wedding is at two o’clock.”
My heart sinks. They’re at the same time. Of course they are.
We all stand there in silence. My mind is doing the math. If I left right now and got to Adam’s wedding in time to out Serene, I could rush back and hopefully catch Ian before he goes down the aisle. I look at the clock on my phone. It’s now 12:45. I couldn’t even make the round trip.
“What are you going to do?” Ashley asks, her eyes full of worry.
“I don’t know. Maybe give up?” A small laugh escapes my lips. I must be crazy to think I could do something like this.
“The way I see it is you have to make a choice,” Justin says. “And you have to make it fast.” He looks at his phone.
Right. I can’t intervene with both weddings, but I can try with one. “Which one?” I look between Ashley and Ian.
“That’s for you to choose,” Ashley says, a slight shake to her head because she can’t help me do this.
“Okay, um.” I try to get my brain to move quickly, and it’s a scrambled mess up there. “Let me think.” I pace around the small area of the sidewalk where we’ve been camped out.
“I think you need to think of the pros and cons to each situation and then decide,” Ashley says.
“I don’t have time to do that,” I exclaim.
“Then don’t think about it. Go with what your instincts are telling you.”
“My instincts, right,” I say, searching my instincts. But I don’t have to search too hard. The answer has always been there, and I know what I need to do.
“I know which one,” I say, nodding my head fast.
Ashley looks at me. “Then let’s go.”
CHAPTER 43
Am I really going to do this? Breathe, Bridgette, just breathe. The butterflies in my stomach are making flying circles. I fidget in my seat, and the person to my left gives me a look that says, “Please stop.”
The ceremony was already starting when we got here. Ashley and Justin are outside waiting for me. We couldn’t all come in, and they had to create a diversion for me to even get inside. I obviously didn’t have an invite, and I’m completely underdressed.
I rest my hands in my lap and try to keep calm and still my shaking legs, but it’s difficult. Get to the part, already.
And then the preacher says it.
“If anyone knows of any reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace,” he says, looking out over the attendees. A formality that is said, but rarely acted upon, and here I am about to act. If I could just get out of the seat.
I have to do this now … right now. If I don’t, I will regret it. At least I think I will. Maybe I will regret doing this. But there’s no way to know unless I try.
I stand up, clenching my fists to give me strength. “I object!” I say, feeling like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can’t believe I just did that.
Suddenly, two hundred heads turn toward me.
“What?” Adam says, looking out into the crowd. He spots me, and his shoulders slouch. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Bridgette, what the hell are you doing here?”
Both he and Serene look as if they could kill me. The officiant looks confused. I doubt he’s ever had this happen to him.
I move from my seat and out to the aisle, apologizing profusely for stepping on toes and bumping knees as I go. Whispers and gasps run through the crowd. Camera phones start appearing everywhere. I walk slowly up to the front. I see Carla and Frank and F.J. seated on my left. They all are slack-jawed. Actually, that’s the look I’m getting from pretty much everyone. I recognize many faces—extended family members I had met during the two years Adam and I were together.
I look over to my left, the bride’s side, which is poorly populated, to say the least. In the back I recognize a face. It’s him. The guy from the café. Did she seriously bring her lover to her own wedding? That’s sick. I mean, really sick. It makes my resolve stronger.
It’s also helping that the slacked-jaw has now been replaced by something else on Carla. Now she has a more hopeful look on her face. She’s silently cheering me on. Frank, too. F.J. even looks like he’s hopeful.
“You can’t marry Serene,” I say, defiantly. I try to ignore that everyone’s eyes are on me.
“Bridgette, this is ridiculous,” Adam says. Dropping Serene’s hands, which he was still holding, he steps off the podium and starts walking toward me. Venom is practically pouring from his face. He is pissed.
“It’s over between us. Don’t you get that? Get out of my wedding,” he says loudly. He looks around the room. “Can someone please escort this woman out?” He looks toward the crowd. “She’s obviously crazy.”
“No!” I exclaim. “I’m not crazy. You can’t marry Serene. She’s been cheating on you,” I say from the aisle where my legs are planted and can’t seem to move anymore.
“You’ve already tried this tactic, Bridgette.” He gives me a condescending look. “Please, you need to go.” He pleads with me.
“Adam, I have proof,” I say, holding up my phone. I look to Serene and her eyes are practically bugging out of her face. My feet finally uproot themselves, and I walk toward him with my phone in hand.
Adam looks at me, and for a second, I think he won’t even look at the picture on my phone and that he’ll escort me out himself. But something flashes in his eyes. It was quick, but I caught it. There’s doubt there.
He grabs my phone and looks at it. His eyes go wide with disbelief. There’s no mistaking the picture Justin got with his phone this time.
He pivots his body to Serene, holding my phone up. “Serene?” he questions. “And John?” I can’t see his face right now, but I can see hers. She’s searching her brain for an excuse.
“It’s not what it looks like,” she says, frantic tones in her voice.
“You said John was a family friend,” he says, swiping a hand over his face angrily.
Adam turns back toward me and points out into the crowd, right to where the other person in the picture is sitting.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Adam is on John, and F.J. is not far behind. Adam takes a punch, and F.J. joins in. Frank runs down the aisle and is trying to pry them all off each other. Other family members join in. There’s yelling and screaming coming from all around the room. A teenage kid, probably a nephew, picks up the chair he was sitting in and carries it over to join in the fight.
“I knew it!” Carla yells, and I turn my attention to her. She’s walked up to Serene, and Serene looks like she’s about to try to make a run for it. “I knew you were a fake,” Carla screams as she takes the bouquet from the maid of honor and starts hitting Serene with it. Serene tries to get away, but Carla’s relentless.
Some family members see Carla and try to get her to stop. Others grab bouquets from the bridesmaids and join in. Serene is screaming and covering her face.
I’m standing in the middle of all the chaos. It’s almost like it’s going in slow motion. The entire crowd is on its feet. Those not involved in the fighting have their camera phones out, recording the entire thing.
I feel a hand on my arm, and I look up to see Justin.
“Irish goodbye?” He gives me a little half-smile.
I look around and realize there’s not much more I can do here. I’m pretty sure I’ve done enough. I look down and see my phone by my feet and reach down quickly to grab it.
“Yep,” I say to him, with a quick nod of my head.
He grabs me by the hand and rushes me out of the ballroom and away from the madness.
We run to Ashley, and then we continue running until we are far away. I don’t even know why we are running. It’s Serene and John who should be running. But, for some reason, we run.
Adrenaline courses through my veins. I can’t believe I just did that. I truly can’t believe it.
“Hold on,” I say. I lean over, trying to catch my breath.
Justin curses loudly. “That was crazy,” he yells.
“That was totally crazy,” Ashley says, agreeing, a half-smile on her face. I think she might be impressed that I did it. I’m kind of impressed with myself.
“I know,” I say. I take a deep breath. “Let’s get out of here.”
~*~
“So then what happened?” Gram asks, sitting in her chair. Ashley and I are on the couch relaying the whole story. Justin had to go to work, so he left us after we got back into the city.
“Everyone started fighting,” I say. “I’m sure someone called the cops.” I look to Ashley, and she silently agrees with me with a few quick nods of her head.
“Wow,” Gram says, sitting back in her chair. She had been leaning toward us, totally lost in the tale. “So, how do you feel?” she asks.
“Well, my heart is still moving at a rapid pace,” I say. My veins are still full of adrenaline. I doubt I’d be able to sleep for a while, even if I wanted to.
“I think Gram wants to know how you feel about everything.” Ashley eyes me with concern. I think she’s afraid of the answer.
Right. So not what I’m physically feeling, but what I’m feeling emotionally.
“It was the right thing to do,” I say, looking at Ashley and then back to Gram. They both nod in agreement.
“And Ian?” Gram asks. Hearing his name makes my stomach plummet.
“Married,” I say simply. It was a long shot with Ian, anyway. I knew I could make a difference for the Dubois family. Well, I hoped I could, anyway. Of course, the plan was for me to catch Adam before the wedding started, but apparently the universe had other ideas.
“That was really brave of you,” Ashley says for probably the tenth time. I glance at her and smile. She has a look of admiration on her face.
I know I made the right choice. Even my heart can’t deny it.
CHAPTER 44
A full week has come and gone since I crashed Adam’s wedding. Since then I’ve received the largest bouquet of flowers ever from Carla (seriously, it barely fit through the door of Gram’s apartment), and even an apologetic text from Adam. He actually asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee, but I declined. I’m not assuming he wanted to jump back into a relationship with me. I think he just wanted to talk. I think where Adam is concerned, I should probably keep my distance for a while.
I found out from Carla that F.J. had hired a private investigator after all. Only the guy wasn’t able to get him any info until after the wedding. So if I hadn’t intervened, it would have been a huge disaster. Apparently, Serene and John have pulled this stunt a couple of times and made quite a nice hefty sum doing so.
“Where does Carla find this stuff?” Ashley asks, her mouth full of chocolate. A huge box of chocolates also came with the flowers. I’m like a superhero to Carla Dubois. I’ve “saved the day” as she’s told me so many times.
“I have no idea, but I think it’s the best chocolate I’ve ever had,” I say as I grab another piece and shove it in my mouth. We’re sitting on the couch in Gram’s apartment after a long day of work for me and rehearsals for Ashley. Justin is on his way over.
Life went right back to normal after I stopped Adam’s wedding. Not that I expected it to be any different. But after you do something as huge as that, you do sort of feel like something should be different. But I’m still Bridgette, doing the same old things. I would love to say that when the name Ian is mentioned my heart doesn’t still feel like it’s being ripped from my chest, but I imagine it will get better with time. It’s only been a week, after all.
A knock at the door stops Ashley and me from grabbing more chocolate. I reach for the lid to the box and put it on, and we quickly hide the evidence under the couch. No need for Justin to see us gorging. Actually, the truth is, I just don’t want to share.
“Don’t get up,” Gram yells as she walks out of her room toward the door. “I’ll get it. I’m already up.”
“You have some chocolate in the corner of your mouth,” I say, eyeing Ashley. She quickly wipes it off, muttering a “thanks” for saving her the embarrassment of getting caught with chocolate on her face.
“It’s for you, Bridgette,” Gram says, as she walks back in the room.
“Huh?” I question.
“There’s someone at the door for you,” she declares, her eyebrows raised in speculation.
“Oh, geez.” I get up from the couch. What’s Justin playing at? I’m sure he’s got some joke he wants to pull on me or something. He’s so annoying.
I walk up to the door, which Gram has left cracked and yank it open.
Not Justin.
Ian.
What?
“Ian?” I say, confusion in my voice and most definitely on my face.
“Hi,” is all he says. He’s in jeans and a fitted gray tee shirt; it’s a look I haven’t seen on him since college.
“What are you doing here?” I step out of the door, half closing it behind me.
“I needed to find you . . . I wanted to see you,” he says, his green eyes intense.
“Why?” I say, still not making any sense of this. “Ian, you’re married. This is wrong.”
A small half-smile appears on his face.
“See, that’s the thing,” he says. “I didn’t get married.”
My eyes practically jump out of my face. “You didn’t? But . . . why?” I stammer. My mind races, and my heart starts beating wildly.
“Because,” he says, “Maureen and I . . . we just weren’t right. I didn’t see it until I ran into you. But it was meant to be. It got me to wake up. Bridgette . . .” he trails off as he grabs my shaking hands in his. Part of me feels sort of reluctant, like my mind is playing tricks on me or something.
“It’s always been you, Bridge,” he says, looking into my eyes. “I thought I was over you, but I don’t think I ever got over you. I don’t think I can. It’s always been you.”
I look down at his left hand, and there’s no ring.
Slowly, as my brain comes to accept the reality in front of me, my mouth breaks into a smile. And try as I might to stop them, tears form in the corners of my eyes.
“I . . . Ian . . .” I try to get the words out—the right words to say at a time like this. But with my mushy brain, I’m having a difficult time making sense even in my own head. “I’m an idiot,” I finally say.
Ian questions my statement with one raised eyebrow.
“I mean, I was an idiot. I should have told you back then how I felt about you. You have no idea how many times I’ve changed our past in my mind. We’ve lost all this time because I was scared or stupid or whatever I was.” He pulls me into him, reaching up to swipe a tear off my cheek with his thumb.
“I love you,” I say, and smile because I’ve said those three words, and finally at the right time.
With that, Ian reaches up, and while tenderly caressing my face, he kisses me. It’s soft and loving, a kiss that speaks volumes and jumbles up my brain even more, but in a good way. He lets go of my face and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me tight to him, and the kiss deepens.
Finally, when I feel like I need to come up for air, I pull away slightly so I can see his face again. I need to see that it’s all real. Something dawns on me as I take in the sight of him – the wonderful, amazing sight of Ian standing on Gram’s doorstep, not married.
“Wait, how did you find out where I live?” I ask.
“I scoured the Internet,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
“You stalked me?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah,” he says. Unwrapping one arm, he rubs his jaw with his hand. The other arm still has me pulled in tight, as if he will never let me go. “I guess I stalked you,” he admits.
“Good,” I say. “Now we’re even.”
