Page 53 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)

F lowers. So many flowers.

On the tables, along the double staircase, hanging from the massive chandelier, in the arms of staff crossing through the foyer.

Standing in the middle where the champagne fountain had been, Lennon gaped at how the mansion—the scene of the crime—had been completely transformed from a salacious nightclub into an elegant wedding venue akin to something out of Bridgerton .

Staff hurried back and forth, carting around decor to finish setting the stage for a fairytale.

Her stomach churned, the memories of that night still haunting her. The reality of it still threatening to destroy Dylan’s career. But she was expected to act like nothing happened. Dress up, smile, play a part in the fairytale.

Lennon grabbed a small bottle of water from a nearby craft services table. She dug out a box of pink chewables from her bag to help with the nausea and popped one into her mouth, chasing it with a few gulps of cold water.

As she went to screw the lid back on, Lennon paused. Popped two more. She needed all the help she could get.

An assistant from the production team led Lennon to the bridal suite.

Cameras recorded her entrance to one of the palatial master bedrooms, where several beauty stations had been set up for hair and makeup.

The other bridesmaids were in various stages of glam as stylists worked on them, the smell of hairspray and acetone pungent in the air.

“Lennon!” Avery jumped up from her chair, eliciting a string of curses from her hairstylist through bobby pins sticking out of their mouth. She shuffled over to Lennon in her white silk robe and slippers. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, relief in her voice.

They hadn’t seen each other since the party or spoken since that phone call outside of texts. Two cameramen focused on them.

“Of course.” Lennon mustered a smile, shoving her hands into the back pockets of her distressed jeans. “What kind of bridesmaid would I be if I bailed on your wedding?”

Avery’s smile softened. For a moment, her gaze cast downward. “I am really sorry, Lennon. About everything.”

Lennon sensed Avery’s sincerity. It softened her a little. They’d both made choices they regretted for the sake of the show.

At least it would all be over soon.

“Water under the bridge,” Lennon said. Avery’s smile deepened, gratitude in her eyes. “It’s your wedding. Nothing else matters today but celebrating you and Chad.”

Avery directed her to an empty beauty station beside Tana and Candace, who said hello around the technicians working on them.

Lennon caught Kelsey’s icy gaze a few chairs over as she lowered into hers.

Fury boiled up, but she tamped it down. There was so much Lennon wanted to say to her, but this wasn’t the time, nor the place.

She only hoped everyone else was on the same page.

A makeup artist stepped between them and began to prep Lennon’s face.

Watching Avery prepare for the day turned out to be harder than Lennon had expected.

She knew it would likely be triggering, but she hadn’t anticipated the bottomless, hollow pit in her gut that seemed to grow wider every minute.

The emptiness, the grief. It snuck up on her in the small moments.

Avery’s mother gifting her something blue from her wedding to her father.

Avery seeing herself in her gown for the first time.

Avery reading parts of a letter from the groom to read on their wedding day.

Dylan began writing Lennon letters shortly after they met.

Like the one he gave her when they were fifteen telling her he couldn’t wait to marry her someday.

The one he gave her the night he did. And the one she never read—the one he’d sent her mere months ago, after his accident, still buried in a drawer.

They hadn’t seen each other since Dylan left for boot camp.

Lennon got a text when he got back in town a couple of days ago, but he said something unexpected had come up and he’d be tied up until the wedding.

She had a feeling it had to do with the news about Carmichael Enterprises or the legal battle with the show—or possibly both—but she hadn’t pressed it.

He’d told her he wanted to talk about it in person.

Yet another thing for her to try and avoid thinking about all day.

Lennon put on a smile in all the photos with the bridal party, then lined up for the ceremony, which took place in the sprawling backyard overlooking a private beach.

The setting sun reflected the thousands of flowers filling the space, mostly soft pink roses that matched their bridesmaids’ dresses.

They wore a flowing gown with a slit at the thigh, heart-shaped bodice, and delicate straps.

Candles lined the long aisle, casting a romantic, ethereal glow.

When the violin music began, Lennon felt as though her center of gravity shifted.

She just had to put one foot in front of the other.

Make it down the aisle. Stand there. Smile. And walk back.

Lennon slipped her arm through the waiting groomsman’s, glad to have something to help steady herself.

Every step Lennon took down the aisle was a step through memories.

She pushed them away, focusing on the back of Candace’s head before shifting to her gold stilettos as she stepped over scattered rose petals.

Lennon watched a few of them crunch beneath her toes.

When she lifted her gaze, the next petal she crushed felt like her heart.

The music faded, along with the faces around him. The world diffused to slow motion. Dylan stood at the end of a row in a midnight blue tuxedo, his beard freshly trimmed and his thick hair elegantly styled.

Though his expression was stoic, his heart sat in his eyes. Fixed on her.

Lennon forced her attention straight ahead. As she passed within inches of him, the hair rose on her arms and the back of her neck. She stiffened but continued planting one foot in front of the other until she was at the altar, taking her place with the other bridesmaids.

For the rest of the ceremony, the majority of her energy was spent trying to avoid her attention accidentally landing on him in the audience as the cameras watched closely.

Lennon failed once, during the vows. Instinctively, her gaze found Dylan, and she was thankful he was looking down when she did.

She allowed herself to stare at him for a few seconds, for the memory of standing across from him at their wedding to layer over it.

She wondered if he was thinking about it, too.

Almost as if he heard her, he raised his head and their eyes locked.

This time, Lennon didn’t look away.

After the post-ceremony group portraits, Lennon went searching for Dylan in the ballroom where everyone was waiting for the bride and groom to arrive.

Massive chandeliers sparkled as hundreds of people filed in.

The space was grand enough to hold an entire stage, dance floor, multiple buffets, and tables with seating for the whole guest list.

Lennon was about to text him when her stomach growled, and that’s when she knew where to find him.

“Erin would have something to say about us both always gravitating toward the food,” Lennon remarked as she found him eying a wide assortment of cheeses on a tall, tiered display. She didn’t even know that many types existed.

They made eye contact through the silver serving stands from opposite sides of the buffet, and her heart flipped over in her chest. Man, he looked good.

Everything about that day had been disorienting, but as soon as their eyes met, it was like grabbing hold of an anchor.

The storm kept blowing around them, but he made her feel solid. Secure.

One side of his mouth tilted up. “Should we send her a selfie, so she doesn’t miss the opportunity?”

“It’s the least we could do while she’s in exam hell.”

Lennon waited as he walked to the end of the long buffet, coming around to join her on the other side. Her stomach fluttered, but this time, it was from a different type of hunger.

The man could wear a fucking tux.

“You want to take it?” Dylan asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Lennon removed her phone from her clutch and swiped open the camera app.

He leaned in, the earthy scent of his cologne and aftershave sending a rush of warmth through her as she extended her arm to position them both in the frame with the impressive tier of cheese between them.

They each pulled a face as she snapped the picture.

While she sent it off to Erin, Dylan remained close. Lennon felt a little light-headed, and she hadn’t even had any champagne yet.

The urge to wrap her arms around him was nearly unbearable.

“So … how have you been?” Dylan asked carefully as he offered her an empty plate.

Lennon wished she could answer him honestly without the mic pack pressing into her back and the cameras lurking among guests, who were stuffing their faces with hors d’oeuvres and cocktails. “Good,” she said with her customer service smile.

Dylan matched it with his PR-trained one.

Even under the veil of the soft candlelight, the dark circles beneath his eyes were barely concealed, the heaviness in them even less so.

The designer tuxedo and perfectly coiffed hair couldn’t hide the brokenness.

Lennon had a feeling the same could be said of her if anyone looked hard enough. “Good,” he returned.

From the concerned look Dylan gave her, it seemed he was looking hard enough. The elephant in the room squeezed between them.

“Are you excited about your performance?” Dylan asked, trying to lift the mood as he placed some gruyere on his plate.

“Yeah. I hope they like it.” Lennon followed his lead, looking over their options. She’d never heard of half of them. What the hell was Pule cheese ?

“There’s no way they won’t.”