Page 6 of Third Time Lucky

LUCY

Not even an hour later, we’re standing in the nearly empty hall, waiting for the wedding planners to open the doors and reveal us to the room.

‘What if I’m making a mistake? What if he leaves in a month? Or worse, dies ?’ I whisper the words I didn’t want to say out loud to my father.

He’s holding my hand to the crook of his arm, patting it softly.

‘Everybody dies, sweetie, but I promise no one is dying today. I know you’ve been traumatized, but I think it must be fate that Kris’ best friend unexpectedly showed up on your wedding day. A sign he’s always with you. It’s OK to move on – he’d want you to.’

I nod, thankful he’s able to read my mind because if I attempt to speak, I’ll lose it. He’s right, though; it is OK to move on. It’s time. Kris would want me to be happy, that much I know. I pull the tissue hidden in my gown, dabbing at the corners of my eyes.

Dreaming of marrying your boyfriend as a teenager is ridiculous, but something I did well.

After his death, he haunted me for a long time.

So, when Brandon first proposed, I said no – out of fear of losing him unexpectedly like I did Kris.

But after therapy and working through some things, the second time was the charm, and here we are, about to tie the knot in front of family, friends, Vegas, and everyone who reads Here Comes the Bride magazine.

Despite my past, I live a life every girl wants; I can’t overlook that.

‘You ready?’ Dad asks.

My head’s ready. My heart… might be. I can’t figure it out, but the hesitation between the two is maddening. Like something’s wrong, but I don’t know what it could be? It’s got about ten minutes to figure itself out.

I blow out a shaky breath. ‘As ready as I’ll ever be.’

The doors open, and the room stands as the music changes to a classical piece played by actual stringed musicians.

Oohs and aahs fill the room as we walk, and inside, my heart thumps almost audibly.

I plaster on a smile at beaming faces, some of which I know, but most of which I do not. God, there are a lot of people here.

Suddenly, one stands out: Asher. He came! I give him a slight wave.

Until now, when he’s crossed my mind, he’s been eighteen years old and taking me on a pity date.

Now he’s a grown man, taller than I remember, and handsome with his chiseled jawline, complemented by a neatly groomed five o’clock shadow.

He’s got the same sandy brown hair cut short, with more green than brown hazel eyes that sparkle like gemstones under the Vegas lights, and cute half-moon crinkles parenthesize his smile.

I knew him immediately. It was sort of comforting to see someone from my past. Besides my family, he’s the person who knows the pain we both went through when losing Kris.

Today, his smile is soft and a little unsure, and I’d bet money he’s experiencing the same thing I am in the pit of his stomach – nostalgia mixed with grief. Did anyone ever think I’d get here? Certainly not me.

‘You look beautiful,’ Brandon says in a whisper when we make it to the front of the room.

‘Thank you, handsome,’ I whisper back.

He beams – the exact smile you want to see from your groom-to-be on your wedding day. My heart warms a little. Maybe it’s not so undecided.

‘Welcome,’ the hotel’s hired magistrate speaks to the packed room as Brandon and I take our places next to one another, my now sweaty hand securely wrapped in his.

‘Relax, Lucy girl,’ he whispers, shaking my hand.

I nod, taking a deep breath.

Everything is fine, Lucy. People get married every day, and rarely do they die from it. You’re letting your anxiety get the best of you.

I glance behind me at the full house of people now seated, and all eyes are on us.

I didn’t expect this many people to show up to an out-of-state wedding.

Did Mitzi invite the entirety of Las Vegas, too?

Jeesh. And here I was, worried about inviting two extras at the last minute.

I can almost feel the piercing gaze of expectations that I’m afraid I’ll fail at.

I see Asher and his friend sitting on the right, near the middle of the outside pews. What must they think?

The magistrate’s voice has me turning back to Brandon.

‘We’re here today to witness Lucy and Brandon’s happily ever after.

Marriage isn’t created by a law or a ceremony but rather by the hearts of two people in love.

Marriage grows by loving, caring, and sharing ourselves with another – which these two have done for two years now.

Of course, this ceremony isn’t magic; it won’t create a relationship that doesn’t already exist. Our couple have made commitments to each other in the days since they met, and today, we tie the knot.

But first, let’s get the big scary question out of the way: if anyone can show just cause why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace. ’

I glance around the room, hearing silence. A peace falls over me – un til someone clears their throat and stands: Asher.

‘I, uh…’ He swallows hard, raising his hand awkwardly. ‘I’ve got just cause.’

‘Who the hell are you?’ Brandon asks, staring at him with his eyes narrowed.

‘Name’s Asher Wright; I’m an old friend of Lucy’s, a new enemy of yours, I suspect.’

Brandon’s glance snaps to me. ‘Friend of yours?’

I nod, unsure what to say. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask Ash. If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d say he is sweating right now. Why? Something is very wrong.

‘You can’t marry him, Luce.’ He shoves his hands in his pockets, clearly uncomfortable.

‘Luce?’ Brandon mimics like he hates this guy using my nickname.

I ignore him for now. ‘Why not?’

Asher looks at the ground, then back to me. ‘He’s not who you think he is…’

The fact that he seems unsure is making me doubt him. Maybe he’s not the same Asher he was. I mean, I haven’t seen the guy in over a decade; perhaps he’s changed.

‘I… don’t understand.’

His friend, still sitting, nudges him. ‘Show her, you’re gonna have to show her,’ he says, pretending to be coughing between words. Slick.

‘Show me what?’

Brandon sighs heavily, shaking his head. ‘Jealousy, it comes in all forms, folks. Can we get on with this?’

I touch his shoulder, stopping him from performing a one-man show by putting down a former friend. ‘Let’s hear him out,’ I suggest.

With a roll of his eyes, Brandon crosses his arms over his chest. ‘Fine. Speak, stranger. Let’s hear it.’

‘Trust me,’ Ash says, his eyes on me while ignoring Brandon as he approaches, pulling his phone from his pocket as he walks.

‘The last thing you want to do is hear it. I think seeing it will be enough.’ He hands me the phone, tapping the screen before letting go. ‘I couldn’t not tell you – I’m sorry.’

He’s sorry? Crap. I can see it in his eyes. They’re prying and pained, and practically the exact look he had when he showed up at my door the night Kris died. Jeez – how bad is this?

I’m almost afraid to look at the screen. But I do. Loaded is a video. I press play and almost immediately regret it. Instinct tells me I’m not supposed to see this, so I cover my eyes but then force my hand away to ensure I’m seeing what I can never unsee.

As Brandon glances at the phone, he gasps. ‘What the—? No-no-no. Give me that.’

He tries to swipe the phone from me, but I grip it with an iron fist, staring him down between glances at the screen. My breathing speeds the longer I watch, and my chest tightens with each second the video plays. Panic sets in like fast-set concrete. This can’t be happening.

‘What is this?’ I ask myself in a whisper.

Brandon shrugs like he knows nothing at all. ‘It’s news to me.’

I shoot him a look. News to him? I glance at the video again to confirm that this is most definitely him. But the flush of his cheeks, the lightning of a storm brewing in his eyes as he watches it with me, tells me this is not news to him.

‘Where did you get this?’ I ask Asher, who is now backing down the aisle, his friend Aaron doing the same on the other side of the room.

‘Bachelor party,’ he says nervously. ‘I stumbled into it and wasn’t even sure he was the right guy at first. Once I figured it out, I knew I had to tell you, and I spent all night figuring out how. I hadn’t planned on doing it here, but I got distracted this morning, so here we are.’

Oh my God. That’s why he brought flowers this morning. He was trying to tell me then.

The life seems to drain out of me, and I’m freezing to the point of shivering (there you are, panic attack), yet only on the surface. Inside, I’m raging like a volcano has just smothered my heart in hot lava.

‘Sweetie,’ Dad stands, approaching the altar. ‘What’s the problem?’

Right as I feel like my heart will explode through my eyeballs, I hand the phone to my father, who accidentally turns up the volume to excruciatingly loud, and I hear the words that send the flood over the edge. ‘Can I hire you to give my Lucy girl some tips?’

A sudden gasp escapes my lips, but it is drowned out by the deafening thud of my own heart pounding in my ears.

A bolt of electricity surges through my body, leaving me physically shaken and mentally scrambled.

It’s as if I’m living out the ‘naked in public’ nightmare, suddenly stripped bare and exposed for all to see, only this time it’s happening at my own wedding, in front of everyone I know and love.

And many who will tell this story until the end of time and probably not even remember my name.

I stare at Brandon, with the glare of a woman scorned. How dare he do this to me!

He attempts to take my hand, but I jerk mine away. Tears roll down my cheeks, burning through the makeup that was perfect only seconds ago.

‘Tips? Seriously?’

‘That’s not me,’ he says half under his breath.