The Worst Wedding Date

I have no idea what to do.

Em’s in her wedding dress. Everything starts in fifteen minutes. I haven’t had a spare minute to check my phone since we left the spa, and we all promised Emma we’d be present in the moment instead of living on our phones today anyway.

Which means I don’t know where Theo is.

Their dad is in here.

He’s tearing up over Em in her gorgeous gown, hugging her and telling her that he wishes her mom could’ve been here to see her.

And I’m wishing Theo was in here right now too.

“He should be,” Sabrina murmurs next to me.

I know I didn’t say that out loud.

She shakes her head. “You’re easy to read, Laney. And you’re right. He should be in here. They’re family. He shouldn’t feel like he doesn’t belong in his own family.”

Fuck it.

Yes, fuck it.

I hand my bridesmaid bouquet to Sabrina and go digging in my purse for my phone.

I’m calling him.

But when I rescue my phone, I realize I should’ve done this hours ago.

Forty-nine missed text messages.

Four from my mom, updating me on my dad’s continued avoidance of macadamia nuts and good health today.

Three from people at work, which I’ll follow up on when I’m back in the office on Monday.

Which means the remaining forty-two are from Theo.

I open the text thread and start skimming.

Guessing you won’t see this until after the wedding. But in case you’re worried and check messages, everything’s under control.

Wedding cake isn’t quite what we hoped for, but it’s a cake. Decker promised me he’ll accidentally slip and fall into it before anyone realizes it says Chandler and Ella on it. Or Jack will push him. When I’m far, far away and can’t be blamed for it.

Not that Em would care.

I know this is the day of her dreams.

If Chandler jilts her and I punch him and end up in jail, I just want you to know I’ll have zero regrets.

But I hope he doesn’t.

I think.

For her sake.

I just want her to be happy. Why does it feel so complicated?

I’m not asking you to fix this. I know it’s not an easy fix. Just venting.

“Why does he think Chandler’s going to jilt her?” Sabrina whispers over my shoulder.

“Because it took him way longer to propose than it should’ve?” I whisper back.

She flings a look over her shoulder at Emma, then back at my phone. “Is he seriously setting up the whole wedding today?”

“There’s no staff and nothing was ready. The wedding got deleted off the calendar.”

She stares at me.

Back at my phone.

Then up at me. “He’s a very good guy, Laney.”

“I know.”

“No one goes to this much trouble to help their sister get married to a prick.” She shakes her head. “I’m going to get him.”

“Theo?”

“Yes. He should be here.”

“Sabrina?” Emma says. “What’s wrong?”

“Forgot something,” she says. “Right back.”

Before I can say that I’ll go get him, she heads for the door.

“It’s okay,” I assure Emma. “Everything’s okay.”

She frowns.

Am I being the world’s worst friend right now?

Or am I being the best?

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

Sabrina’s right. Theo should be here, and I’m too up in my head over what he means to me to remember that he’s Emma’s brother.

And do you know what sucks?

What sucks is watching Theo bend over backward to make sure Emma gets the wedding of her dreams while Chandler’s off playing golf or sitting by the pool all day.

Which would be fine—Chandler’s the groom. This is his day too.

Except he’ll give Theo zero credit.

He wasn’t like this before.

He really wasn’t.

Emma’s eyes go huge. “Oh my god, did catering fall through for the reception?”

“No! No. I mean, it did, but Theo handled it, and he has the full list of guest allergies now that’s been passed on to the new caterers, and—”

She blinks twice, her eyes going misty. “He’s the best.”

“And I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” I finish. “Sabrina’s going to get him.”

“It hasn’t been quite like I dreamed it would be,” she says on a soft laugh. “But I’m getting married today. Finally.”

“You worked hard and earned it.”

Her nose wrinkles.

Honestly, mine does too.

You earned getting married? “That’s not what I—”

“I know.” She smiles. “I know what you meant.”

“We’re so glad all of your dreams are coming true today,” Claire says, squeezing her in a gentle shoulder hug.

“Me too.” She wipes her eyes delicately as she laughs. “Finally.”

“Came with some glitches, didn’t it?” Mr. Monroe says.

“It did.”

“Like that time he almost broke up with you over a peanut butter pie.”

Emma laughs again. “I can’t believe he thought it was butterscotch. Who makes a butterscotch pie? And then calls it peanut butter for fun? Oh my gosh, do you remember the time he tried to convince me I was getting the wrong car?”

“And the time he thought my stuffed meerkat was a squirrel.”

“And the time he got so sick when he didn’t follow Mom’s recipe closely enough and the eggs weren’t fully cooked in that birthday cake the rest of us refused to eat for my birthday?”

Mr. Monroe chuckles. “Really shouldn’t have made it two days early. Remember when he took Theo’s snow boots and thought his feet shrank because they were so loose?”

Emma’s rolling now. “And the gloves! He got Theo’s gloves too, and thought his hands shrunk!”

“Good thing he never tried Theo’s snow pants.”

Emma cackles.

She absolutely cackles with glee, and then she sighs happily, wiping her eyes once more. “We’ve been through so much.”

“Gotten through so much,” her dad says. “Won’t ever forget the way he sat up with you after Theo went to jail.”

Emma sighs. “He was so understanding.”

“He should’ve been, considering it was his fault,” my mouth says.

She blinks. “What?”

Mr. Monroe frowns at me. “What?”

Oh, crap.

Oh, crap crap crap.

“How was that Chandler’s fault?” she asks.

I open my mouth again, and this time, silence comes out.

Claire gapes at me.

No.

No no no.

I didn’t say that. Tell me I didn’t say that.

I look at Mr. Monroe, and I swear it’s like looking at Theo’s future. Tall. Slender. Wrinkles lining his face. Lots of laugh lines. Thinning hair, but not receding.

And utterly confused.

I look at Emma again, praying she’ll be giving me the my father didn’t know, so come up with a cover story fast look.

But instead, it’s pure confusion. “What did Chandler have to do with Theo going to jail?” she whispers.

“I—I must’ve heard something wrong,” I stammer.

“The Snaggletooth go-kart catastrophe,” she says. “Is that what you’re talking about?”

I gulp. “You—you know how I get details mixed up. I wasn’t even there. Classes out late for the semester and all.”

“What did you hear?”

“Ten years ago, wasn’t it?” Mr. Monroe interjects. “Eleven, even?”

“Laney?” Emma says.

I swallow.

Then swallow again.

And wish Sabrina was here. “I heard Chandler was driving and Theo took the fall for him,” I whisper.

Emma’s lips part.

Mr. Monroe’s face twists.

“But like I said, I’m sure I heard wrong. Other people would’ve known. It’s not like they were the only two people there.”

“Chandler wasn’t there,” Emma says slowly. “He told me he wasn’t even there.”

And Theo doesn’t lie.

Not about stuff like this.

He owns it.

He owns it when he breaks the rules.

“Em, Theo wants you to be happy,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “That’s all he wants. For you to get the wedding of your dreams to the man of your dreams. Not to rehash history. He’s glad he went to jail. He said it’s the best thing that ever happened to him. It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. I’m sorry. It’s stress. I’ve been so worried I’d screw something up or not fix the right thing, and—”

“Laney,” she whispers, “it’s okay.”

It doesn’t feel okay.

It feels like I’ve just crushed her favorite kitten.

She touches her dad’s elbow. “You should go have a seat. It’s almost time.”

He looks between us, then nods and hugs her tight. “So beautiful,” I hear him say. “You look just like your mama.”

There’s no fuss over her walking herself down the aisle. Mr. Monroe isn’t the type to put himself in front of what his kids want.

And he’s pretty quiet most of the time.

I think he’d prefer to not have the attention on him.

And when he’s gone, Emma forces a smile at me. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Em—”

“No, Laney, I mean it. Thank you. For everything. I asked the most awful thing I could ever ask of anyone, and you didn’t even hesitate. I know how much you’re putting into making sure everything happens the way I want it to, and that’s—that’s so much more than I deserve or should expect of anyone. I didn’t want to be a bridezilla—”

“Emma Monroe, you are not a bridezilla.”

“But I made everyone come here to Hawaii for this stupid fantasy I had about the perfect wedding—”

“You invited everyone, and they chose to come because we all adore you.”

“And everything’s falling apart.”

I crush her in a steady hug, knowing I can’t fix everything.

Not even close.

“Do you want to get married to Chandler today?” I ask her.

There’s a slight hesitation that has my heart holding its breath.

And then— “Yes,” she whispers.

“It’s what you want?”

She hesitates again.

And then she nods. “It’s what I want.”

Dammit.

Dammit.

I pull away and nod back at her. “Okay. Okay. If this is what you want, then let’s do this.”

“We’re here for whatever you need,” Claire agrees.

Sabrina bursts into the room. “Oh my god, lost track of time. I can’t grab Theo. I’m sorry, Em. I—what happened?”

“Bridal jitters,” Claire says.

“I just can’t believe it’s here,” Em agrees, but she looks more sick than excited.

“Us too,” Sabrina chimes in.

“We’re so happy for you,” I say.

And I’m trying to be.

But it’s so hard when your best friend is marrying a man that might’ve been good enough for her once upon a time, but who’s looking less and less like anyone’s Prince Charming by the minute.