Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I wave and walk away as quickly as possible, turning down a side street that takes me in the wrong direction, but it’s better than someone catching up to me.
I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I need some time with just me and Deaton.
Especially today. The fifth of July.
The day he arrived in Oceanside exactly one year ago.
He only came here because of me.
I am the reason he’s dead.
You must really enjoy torturing yourself.
That’s the unwelcome thought that bursts through my brain the moment I step from the car and onto the beautiful rocky winding path. It’s lined with lilies the color of pomegranates, each bundle tucked gently into little silver vases, lilac ribbons tied around the centers. The flowers lead to a massive arched doorway that’s propped open, revealing an even bigger hall in the center, more lilies trailing down each side.
The man at the door smiles and greets me, extending his arm out to welcome me inside, but before I can step through, an older woman rushes out and latches on to my wrist, dragging me forward.
“Oh, thank goodness! We’re thrilled you could make it. Everyone has just taken their seats, and dinner’s being served. There is a seat and plate for you as well. I hope you like salmon. I’m Evelyn, by the way. Mother of the groom.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Payton.”
“Yes, we heard so much about you. I tell you, Mia has been a lifesaver.”
She leads us through a side door that takes us through the kitchen, and I smile politely as we slip past the chefs hard at work with what looks like a dessert course. As we step through the swinging doors and into the reception area, my feet slow of their own accord until I’ve fully stopped, gawking at the wide-open space.
Fifteen to twenty round tables litter the floor, leaving a bit of space open in the center, likely for the bride and groom’s first dance or to view the wedding party table that sits up higher than the rest. Glass vases of different heights rest in the center of each one; lilies, this time white, burst within them, sitting on a bed of what looks like diamonds. There doesn’t seem to be an open seat in the place. There’s a charge of happiness in the air, and when I glance up at the wedding party table, finding the bride and groom tilted toward each other, moisture builds in my eyes.
I don’t realize I’m taking backward steps until Evelyn turns to me and tips her head.
“Did you leave something in the car, hon? I can ask the doorman to retrieve it for you.”
Clearing my throat, I do my best not to give away the panic rising within me. “No, I was going to go ahead and pull my camera out here and sneak some shots as I make my way around the room.”
“Perfect!” The woman claps in delight. “There’s a name tag and a seat for you in the front right corner.”
I thank her again and turn to the side, then busy myself in my bag in hopes that she goes back to enjoying the party. She does, and I suck in a breath of relief, pressing my back against the dark corner of the wall and taking a moment to breathe.
It’s fine. You’re fine. Everything is fine.
It’s not like a wedding is something I’ve ever thought about before. At no point in my childhood did I sit around and plan for my own, so this should be simple. Easy.
I’m here to do what I love, and I’m going to do it well, because despite how fucked-up I am in the head right now, I know I’m good at this.
This I can do without ruining everything.
Jesus, projecting much?
Oh my god, okay. Snap out of it.
I can do this.
So I reach for the numb switch in the back of my brain, flick it on, and get my ass to work.
Surprisingly, the evening goes by in a blur, and even more unexpectedly, I’m having a great time, smiling at the crowds as I make my way through, taking shot after shot of everything I think will be a warm memory.
Ten o’clock rolls around, and I note nearly all the older family members have called it a night, leaving what appears to be the bride and groom’s friends, or maybe cousins or siblings as they all seem to be around the same age. As if it were the plan all along, this is when the real party begins.
The guests go crazy when the bride reappears in a shorter, slinkier white dress, and even the music ramps up to what I imagine one would hear in a nightclub downtown.
Alcohol flows faster, people get louder, and I already know these will be the photos that make the newlyweds laugh when I send over the files in a couple of weeks.