Page 126 of The Wedding Menu

“You’re not wearing your dress,” he says, looking down at my gown.

Uncomfortably rubbing my arm, I follow his gaze. “No. It didn’t feel right.”

“Is that the only thing that doesn’t feel right?”

There’s a moment of silence. “He’s been better,” I say, my words soaked in self-doubt. “We ended that whole open-relationship thing, and he’s been… present and sweet and—”

“It’s too late.”

I shake my head quickly, my chest heaving. “But what if it’s not? We have the rest of our lives ahead of us and—”

“It’s too late because you’re in love with me, Amelie.”

My heart stills. My everything follows. It’s like my muscles have turned stale, stiff, as if I were a mannequin and not a real person. This isn’t what I need to hear right now. “Please, don’t,” I whisper.

“I drove here not even knowing if I’d say this. If I’d have the chance to see you, if you’d listen,” he says. The corners of his lips bend downward, and there’s so much hurt in his face that it’s hard to look at. “Now you’re here, so please let me say it.”

“I can’t hear it, Ian.” I take a step back and I hold up my hands, palms out, as if they’ll somehow hold him back. “You can’t say what you’re about to say two hours from my wedding.”

“Don’t marry him.”

A sob breaks the silence that follows, and though I cup my mouth, more sobs power through.

“Don’t marry a man who doesn’t love you.” He comes closer, his fingers finding my own as he rests his forehead on mine. “Don’t marry a man you don’t love. And please, I beg you, don’t choose him over me.”

“Ian—” Another violent sob shakes me, and as I look at him through a veil of tears, I see that, through his closed eyes, he’s crying too.

“I told you I don’t know much about love, Amelie, and that’s true. But I’ve learned a lot.” His smell soothes me a little as he breathes against my lips. “Like how, when you’d do anything for someone, when their smile fuels your very soul, that’s probably love.”

His hand cups the back of my neck, our foreheads still pressed together as our quick breaths mix. “I wondered when exactly it started. If all of it, all along, was love. And I realized, since I met you, you never left my mind.” He sniffles. “And the more I tried to ignore my feelings for you, the more they grew.”

“Please,” I beg as makeup stains my face.

“I lost you, Amelie. You’ve never been mine, but I lost youalready. And I’m here to get you back, because if I don’t, it’ll break my heart.”

“Stop, Ian—”

“Please don’t break my heart, Amelie.”

My legs give out, the pain too intense to bear. I just want to fall onto the floor of this bathroom and cry until this is all over. Until there’s no wedding, no Frank, no Ian, no Amelie either. Until the world has moved past us and we’re nothing but a speck in history. Until there’s no more thinking or feeling, no more love or heartache. No more anything.

But Ian’s arms hold me up against his chest, and I feel safer than I’ve ever felt before. I can’t help but think that if we’d met in another life, we would have really been something. We would have beenit.

But love needs the right timing.

“You have to let me go,” I whisper. I don’t just mean the way he’s holding me, and I think he knows, because after making sure I can stand on my own, he takes a step back and turns around, his hands running over his face. “Ian, I—I’m about to get married, and—”

“You texted me back, Amelie.” He whips around. His eyes are glossy, and there’s a pink hue over his cheeks. “Why did you do it, then, huh?”

“Because—”

When I halt, he shrugs. “Because what?”

“Because I’m panicking, okay?” I bring both hands to my face, wiping my tears and probably making more of a mess of my makeup. “I’m panicking and I needed to hear your voice and talk to you because—because you’re my best friend,” I whine.

“Your best friend.” A bitter chuckle rolls out of his lips. “Really? Give me a break, Amelie.”

“But you are,” I insist. “Aren’t you? You said you’d be my friend, you said you’d—”