Page 4

“I just couldn’t breathe,”

Mia said, attempting again to smooth out the wrinkles in her wedding dress. A dress that she’d slept in, of all things. She’d barely planned on wearing the damn thing for an evening, and now here she was, still encased in silk.

“Physically?”

Rachel asked. She was leaning on the reception desk, blue eyes soft with pity.

“Physically,”

confirmed Mia. “It was like there was this huge rock on my chest. But now…”

“Now you’re in a safe place and you’re warm and fed and comfortable,”

Rachel said. “That’s all you need to worry about.”

“Yes, but…”

“But nothing,”

said Rachel. “You say now, but you’re not worried about now, you’re worried about the future. And if you don’t mind me saying so, it seems like a lot of your problems come from putting the future ahead of now.”

Mia considered that for a second. She was, despite the wedding dress, quite comfortable. She’d slept strangely well. Well enough that when she’d woken up, she hadn’t known where she was. Eventually, she’d stumbled downstairs, horrifically embarrassed with herself, and Rachel had handed her a plate of toast and a cup of coffee. Which had calmed her down until just now, when she’d started to think about what she was going to do.

Then the rock had made a reappearance and her breath had grown short and Rachel had started to talk her through her problems.

“Give me a second,”

Rachel said, as another guest came down the stairs wanting to check out.

The hotel was perhaps more of an inn. It wasn’t one of those fancy, franchise places, all white couches and smooth tile floors. There was an empty fireplace in the reception area, with comfortable armchairs next to it. The place smelled slightly of damp and a whole lot of fresh flowers.

It was, Mia thought, a nice place. A comfortable place. A romantic place.

Oh god. She was supposed to be catching a plane today. As of right this minute, she was supposed to be Mrs. Michael Andress. And here she was, still Mia Tate, except she wasn’t behaving at all like Mia Tate. In fact, she was, if anything, someone else entirely.

She looked down at her hands, which were shaking again, and her ring finger. What had she done? She’d walked away with nothing. Even her car was useless now, abandoned by the side of the road somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. She’d left everything in her life, every single thing. She was practically panting, trying desperately to suck in a breath.

She’d left everything, and no one knew where she was.

No one.

Her breath started to come more easily.

No one knew where she was. No one could find her here.

She was, as Rachel had pointed out, perfectly safe.

She took a deep breath, then another.

One step at a time, she told herself. Not even one day at a time. A whole day was far too much to think about. An hour, a minute, one second at a time.

The front door opened, and a boy came in, carrying two styrofoam boxes. He placed them on a table by the door and looked around curiously.

No, not a boy.

Mia tilted her head to see better. Definitely not a boy. Okay, the figure was wearing a shirt and braces and trousers that had been rolled up, looking oddly like a Victorian orphan. But there were definite curves under that shirt. There was a mop of curly, dark hair, wide, dark eyes, an upturned nose.

A girl then.

The girl turned in Mia’s direction. No, strike that. A woman. The woman turned in Mia’s direction and gave a broad smile. Mia’s heart thudded in her chest for a moment, as though unsure of what exactly it was supposed to be doing. Mia clutched her hands into fists at the feel of it. It had been so long since her heart had pounded like that that she’d forgotten what it felt like.

“I must be looking for you,”

the woman said, picking up the top box and bringing it to the reception desk. “Congratulations.”

“On… what?”

asked Mia, concerning herself with seeing what was inside the box rather than looking too closely at the woman who smelled of patchouli and something else. Leather, perhaps.

The woman cleared her throat. “Well, on, um, on this.”

She gestured up and down at Mia.

Mia looked down at herself. She’d plum forgotten for a moment that she was wearing a wedding dress. She felt color rise in her cheeks. “Oh, this, it’s not what you think.”

The woman laughed, and little wrinkles appeared in the corner of her eyes. “Is it not? Because honestly, I’m finding it a bit tough to imagine why you might have greased yourself into that dress if it’s not what I think. Not that you don’t look beautiful,”

she added quickly.

“No, no. But thank you.”

Mia’s mouth had gone dry.

“Well, here you are then. Flowers, fresh and in full bloom, just what you need to make your special day special.”

She tilted the box so that Mia could see inside.

“Wait, no, I told you, this isn’t what you think.”

The woman frowned. “But… Aren’t you getting married?”

“I was getting married,”

Mia said, feeling the past tense catch in her throat.

“Ah.”

The woman’s face lightened in understanding. “So you already got married? Well, congratulations again, and I’m truly sorry if the flowers are too late. I had no idea. I’m just the messenger, you know.”

“No,”

Mia said, getting irritated now. “I didn’t get married. That’s sort of the whole point.”

“I did think it was an odd time to get married,”

the woman admitted. “I mean, it’s only half nine now, I doubt many people get married before then. Although I suppose some people might get married at sunrise. But you… didn’t?”

“No!”

The woman regarded her closely for a moment. “Then why are you wearing a wedding dress?”

***

Luna watched as color flamed in the woman’s cheeks. To be fair, it did make her look awfully attractive. With all that long blonde hair and baby blue eyes and tanned skin and curves encased in what was, now that she was close enough to see, a slightly grimy wedding dress, the woman was actually very attractive.

And also confusing.

“I didn’t get married,”

the woman said through gritted teeth. “I planned on getting married, but then I didn’t.”

“Ah,”

Luna said knowledgeably. “You were going to get married.”

She paused and raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I did.”

“No, you said… Actually, I forgot what you said. But it was confusing nevertheless.”

Luna sniffed and leaned one elbow on the counter. “What happened then? Did he run off with a bridesmaid? Or did he take a liking to the best man? It happens, you know. There’s nothing like a life-changing event to make you realize that you’re someone else on the inside.”

“Neither of those things. For your information, I left. Before the church. I drove off. Came here.”

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “And what would you know about anything?”

“Almost married a circus acrobat once,”

Luna said airily. “It was all set up, it was. We were going to have a Shinto ceremony on the beach.”

The woman bit her lip. “And what happened?”

she asked more kindly.

Luna shrugged. “Couldn’t do it. Too much responsibility for me. And traveling with the circus isn’t like real traveling. There’s a schedule and everything. Yeah, not for me.”

“I see,”

said the blonde frostily.

It occurred to Luna that whilst her own near-miss had been a bit of a relief, this woman might not feel quite the same way. “It’ll all turn out for the best,” she said.

“Will it?”

Luna grinned and reached into the styrofoam box, pulling out a flower. “It will,”

she said. She grinned more widely and got down on one knee, presenting the flower with a flourish. “And if it doesn’t, then I shall be your knight in shining armor and I shall marry the fair princess.”

The blonde snorted. “I might take you up on that,”

she said, plucking the flower from Luna’s hands and raising it to her nose to smell it.

“Oh look,”

said a voice from the stairs.

Luna looked over to see an older couple leaning on the bannister and smiling at them.

“Let me take a picture for you,”

called the man, fumbling in his pocket.

“What a beautiful couple,”

said the woman.

“No!”

shrieked the blonde. “We’re not a couple.”

“But you could be,”

Rachel said, coming back to their side of the desk. “Communication is key, and if he’s come all the way here, love, well, you owe it to him to hear what he has to say.”

“He?”

said the blonde and Luna at exactly the same time.

“If you’ve changed your mind, you can have the wedding right here,”

Rachel said. She looked from one to the other, then frowned. “Ah.”

“Ah,”

mirrored the blonde.

“I can see that I’ve jumped to some conclusions here,”

said Rachel. She held up her hands. “No offense meant in the slightest. I’m an old woman and every now and again I get stuck in old mindsets. Not that that’s an excuse.”

“What?”

asked the blonde, a look of pure confusion on her face.

“Well, I just assumed that you were marrying a man because… because of hetero-normative standards and all and, well, I’m embarrassed now,”

Rachel said.

“Not as embarrassed as you will be in a minute,”

said Luna, snorting a laugh.

“Wait, I’d recognize that snort anywhere. Luna Truman, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Delivering flowers,”

Luna said.

“Not… not reclaiming your runaway bride?”

asked Rachel.

“I haven’t got one. As far as I know,”

said Luna.

“You certainly don’t,” said Mia.

“Then what… why… huh?”

asked Rachel.

“We’re off out,”

said the older couple. “Congratulations again!”

The blonde screeched. “Why does everyone think I’m getting married?”

Luna and Rachel both turned to her.

“Ah, right,”

she said, looking down at her wedding dress. “I keep forgetting.”

“You might want a change of outfit,”

Luna said cheerfully. “And the flowers are from Jan’s,”

she added to Rachel. “All paid for, are they?”

“I’ve got an account,”

said Rachel. She nodded at Luna. “Nice to see you back. Bring some life back to the place.”

“Not for long,”

Luna said, backing toward the door. “Nice to see you, though.”

She looked uncertainly at the blonde. “And you.”

And she made her escape.