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Olivia

G rief eases with time. At least, that’s what people tell you. Yet even five years later, my mother’s loss still aches.

Grief comes and goes, I’ve learned. But it never eases. Barely getting a wink of sleep last night should be proof enough.

My vision blurs, and for a moment, I almost forget where I am. Reality slowly fades in: Flowers, candles, cream colored fabric draping over every table. Emily and Derek's big day.

Weddings can be absolute, unbridled chaos. Over the years, I’ve learned to plan for it. It’s part of what makes me so damn good at my job.

The venue is alight with glittering crystal chandeliers. A slight breeze flutters into the bridal suite through an open window, but it doesn’t stop the bead of sweat from rolling down my back. I lift my ringlets, pausing in the doorway as I reign in a breath.

It’s almost over.

I don’t hate weddings. The dresses, the decorating, the organization: It brings me joy. Comfort even. But today… Today just feels different. It’s about to be the happiest day of two people’s lives, and I can still barely manage a smile. I don’t allow myself to wonder why.

You know why, a part of me insists. I let my hair drop, and I stand a little straighter as I plaster on a smile.

I do a final sweep over the mountains of makeup and clothing strewn about the room before walking down for the ceremony… My eyes catch on the coral bouquet resting at the vanity. I curse, recognizing Emily’s arrangement of roses immediately. She must’ve forgotten it. I snatch it up and in my mad dash, I stumble into someone already crowding the hall.

“Shit,” the person mumbles, and around a snow cloud of white silk tulle, I hear a sniffle. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

“Emily?”

It takes a moment to register that it isn’t just anyone huddled away in the corner.

It’s the bride.

The same bride that’s supposed to be walking down the aisle in less than two minutes.

She sniffles again, and when she looks up, her eyes are twinged with red, still wet with tears. "It’s me.”

“Are you okay?”

“If anyone sees me, it will be a disaster. They’ll tell Derek, and Derek will cause a scene n-” She swipes at her eyes. “The whole thing falls apart.”

It’s an effort to bite my tongue. I should have called him out for every lie when I had the chance.

It’s almost over , I remind myself, drawing my attention back to the crying bride in front of me.

I don’t know whether to hug her or to clap her on the back for making the man wait at the altar, but I put a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey…” I kneel, twisting her to face me. “Is everything really okay?”

She shakes her head, lip wobbling. “No.”

I rub soothing circles into her, careful not to wrinkle the neat layers of her dress. “Talk to me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insists, smiling suddenly as she wipes away the tears. “What do you usually tell the brides when they get cold feet?”

My back goes rigid. Most brides don’t talk to me about having second thoughts. Usually they reserve that for the bridal party. The parents even. “I- I can’t say I’ve talked many brides into walking down the aisle.”

She nods slowly, looking up so that more tears don’t fall. “That’s reassuring.”

Shit. That was the wrong thing to say.

“Derek loves you,” I blurt, and I want to hit myself for saying it.

It’s not that it’s untrue. I’ve spent enough time with them the last few months to know that Derek loves her with whatever kernel of room he has left outside of his own self-interest. The man’s conceited, not heartless. But I also sense that Emily isn’t with Derek for love.

She cares for him- loves him maybe, but she isn’t in love with him. Emily’s more concerned with pleasing her mother by marrying someone rich, successful, handsome. Any bride wants to make their parents happy- even if it means they break bits of themselves away to do it. That leaves plenty of room for second thoughts and what ifs.

“Is love enough?” she asks suddenly. Her eyes are two watery globes full of honesty.

I wish I could say that Derek is an ass and that she deserves better. I wish I could say she’ll be happy, and that after this, there will be nothing but clear skies. But after today, there’s no telling whether Emily and Derek will get a happy ending. Years from now, I might see them looking radiant on the cover of a fashion magazine- exactly where they both belong. But her question isn’t asking about any of that.

Is love enough? Is love enough to get married? Is love enough to start a life with someone?

The truth is, I don’t know. The irony of being a wedding planner is cruel. I’ve only ever been in love once. I got my heart wrenched out of my chest, and I’ve spent years since guarding it tight.

Love wasn’t enough then… I sure as hell don’t know anything about it now.

When I look at Emily again, I can see her for exactly who she is. She isn’t a woman who will say no to a challenge.

I can do one of two things: I can share and commiserate in our mutual people-pleasing tendencies… or I can do my job and give this woman the best damn day of her life.

Love or not, she will enjoy her wedding day.

“What makes you happy, Emily?” I ask her, and her teary eyes blink at me twice before she sniffles again.

“What?”

“What makes you happy? Is it love? Money? A family?”

She laughs at the question, accepting the tissue I hand her and gently dabbing her eyes. “I don’t know… Stability? A glass of wine at the end of the day?” She breaks into a fit of laughs. She repeats, “I don’t know! Lots of things.”

“Lots of things,” I continue, adjusting the fallen lock of hair back behind her ear. “What about walking down the aisle makes you feel like they won’t happen?”

She huffs quietly. “I don’t really know. Derek… Derek does make me happy. He’s perfect for me, I just… feel like if I make the wrong decision now, the rest of my life is over. You know?”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on one day.” I smile when she laughs again. “I think… that today is just another day. Another… expensive, beautiful, hectic day… but the rest of your life is a long time coming. And it’s not dependent just on today.”

She nods, a slow smile spreading across her face before her eyes flick to me. “You’re kind of good at this.”

I smile again as heels click down the hall. Emily's mother rounds the corner, freezing when she sees us huddled on the floor. “What are you doing?? It’s starting!” she hisses, and while Emily stands, we share a knowing look.

“I’m coming! Just forgot my bouquet,” she lies easily, and at the look of determination in her eye, I reach for the flowers. She accepts them, quickly smoothing the creamy, white fabric of her dress and dabbing the last of the tears from her lashes. Her next smile is pretty and small. “I’m ready.”

‘ Thank you ’ she mouths, and when I wink in return, she stands tall. Shoulders back, chin high, expensive diamond earrings dangling over her shoulders, she walks forward and accepts her mother’s awaiting arm.

Just the sight makes my heart stall, and the grief sweeps over me again like the breeze still fluttering in through the window.

Normally, I’d allow myself to pause. To feel it. To tamp it back down and put on a brave face.

I think about Emily swallowing her tears… and I find myself swiping on a fresh coat of lipstick from the tube in the pocket in my dress. I check the crimson shade in the mirror, swiping at a small smear near the corner.

When I smile this time, I can almost feel the sadness fading away.

I’ve got a job to do after all.

But I should know better by now.