Page 6 of The Wedding Situation Romance

“See you on the other side,” I whisper as we are about to part ways at the end of the aisle.

“You mean hell? I hope there’s alcohol,” he mutters, and I roll my eyes.

Regina gives me a look, and I just mouth, “He’s an asshole,” to which she mouths back, “Right…”

But no more of this. The music shifts to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri, and everyone stands. I hold my breath as usual, waiting with a tingling spine and the world’s biggest grin as Dani appears. And I will say–despite the fact that it's the same dress from yesterday in a different color, this one is stunning.

It’s star white, so luminous that it holds the glow of a halo. Hand sewn gems and sequins cascade down the tulle skirt, and I’m fairly certain they outnumber the stars in the sky. Every one of them catches the sunlight pouring into the room, scattering sparkles like stardust in every direction.

She is so extravagant that the room literally sighs in a collective gasp of awe. And as a tear slips down my cheek, I hear an opposing sound and immediately recognize the source.

I glance over at Reid, and sure enough, he is the only person in the entire room not smiling.

He looks amused, yes, but if I had to guess, it’s because he thinks this whole thing is ridiculous.

Luckily, Justin is too captivated by his bride to notice.

Thank God for love-induced tunnel vision. Jesus.

The ceremony is lovely. The vows are beautiful. And the kiss is spectacular. The room erupts at the end of it all, and we follow them down the aisle and outside. As is customary, the bride and groom slip away for pictures, and everyone else heads to the cocktail party in the garden.

I walk up to the bar with a contented sigh.

But as I'm waiting to be served, there's that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach again.

I glance around at the rest of the guests and realize that I seem to be the only bridesmaid here without a date.

Probably also the only woman here without a date.

And that wretched cliché pops into my head.

Always the bridesmaid and never the bride.

Will it ever be my turn?

The barwoman startles me out of my daze. “What'll it be?”

“What are the specials?” I ask. Because I know Dani came up with a list of cocktails thatencompass their personalities.

“For the bride, there’s the Pink Martini, the Strawberry Sangria, and the Muddled Dragon fruit Gin and Tonic. And for the groom–”

“I’ll take the Pink Martini,” I answer. I love a good martini, even though, knowing Dani, this one is probably going to taste like cotton candy.

I click my acrylic nails on the glass bar top (pink, of course) and smile as the barwoman sets the fuchsia-colored drink in front of me. Honestly, it looks delicious.

But before I have the luxury of even one sip, Reid appears next to me.

“Fancy finding you here,” he says.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the bartender warmly cuts in. “Would you like to hear the groom’s cocktail specials?”

“No. I’ll take a whiskey neat,” he answers back sharply.

And with that, I scan the QR code for the bartender’s Venmo, tip her five bucks, and grab my glass.

“Leaving so soon?” Reid asks. “But I just got here.”

“Exactly,” I say with a salt-rimmed smile before turning and walking away.