That was the plain, stupid truth of it. I felt my soul ripped in half, in two equal, shredded parts — one pulling me toward walking away from Tyler and leaving him to his happiness with Azra, and one yanking me toward throwing myself at his feet and begging him to walk away from everything safe and comfortable, and fall right into sin with me.
I loved him enough to let him go, and that was what felt right to me.
But I also loved him enough to be selfish, to keep him for my own — consequences be damned.
The sick thing was that I could close my eyes and see both paths play out in living color. I could see me leaving Tyler and this town behind again, going back to California, rebuilding, finding myself, moving on.
I could see me running to him, him breaking Azra’s heart, his family casting their disappointed stares on us, and us working to re-earn their trust.
But perhaps what scenario I saw the clearest was the one my aunt had just called me out for, the one driven by fear. Because I could see, clearer than anything, me confessing my love to Tyler and him telling me I was too late.
Or that he didn’t want me.
That he wanted Azra, and I was right, that night between us had been a mistake.
I choked on a sob — that was how real it played out in my head. And when I rolled to one side on a sigh, I reached over and turned off the lamp beside my bed, crawling into the covers with my heart still heavy and bruised.
One thing I knew for sure was that the answer wouldn’t come overnight, and that it didn’t need to. Tomorrow was about my best friend getting married. Tomorrow was about Morgan and Oliver swearing to love each other forever in front of all their friends and family.
Tomorrow was not about me.
And maybe that’s what I needed. I could throw myself into Morgan’s big day tomorrow, be there for her, celebrate her, and then get on the plane that would take me back home to California. There, I could clear my head. There, I could be alone with my thoughts — truly alone, without pressure from Tyler, or Azra, or Jacob, or anyone else being around.
There, I could make my choice.
I only hoped I’d find the courage to make the right one.
There was magic in the air when I woke the next morning, and every hard and heavy thing that had weighed on me seemed to lift as soon as my eyelids fluttered open. I smiled, dressing quickly in the soft pink bridesmaid robe and slippers Morgan had set out for me, and running down the stairs to the kitchen. I poured up two mimosas, and then ran into her bedroom on the first floor and leaped on top of her with her head still buried under the covers.
“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”
I shook her and squeezed her until her sleepy smile came to life, and she started squealing with me, and before I knew it, we were tearing up and laughing and clinking our glasses together, toasting to a great day and a beautiful future.
“I just want you to know that today is going to go by fast,” I told her when we were sipping the juice and champagne, the rising sun just barely peeking in her room. “Try to soak up every moment. Take mental screenshots. I’ll take as many pictures and videos as I can on the side, too, but just really be here and in this moment, okay? Steal Oliver away later for a little time alone, just the two of you. I’ll make sure people leave you alone. And more than anything,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her wrist. “I hope this day is as perfect as you’ve always dreamed. I am so, so happy for you.”
Her eyes welled with tears, and she sat her drink aside before launching herself at me. I held my glass as steady as I could, chuckling when a sip splashed out of the side and onto her comforter, but neither of us cared.
“I love you so much,” she whispered. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
My heart swelled. “Me, too.” When we pulled back, I arched an eyebrow. “Ready?”
Morgan’s smile was radiant when it spread across her face on a certain nod. “Ready.”
Less than ten minutes later, her mom flew through her bedroom door, already crying, and Operation Wedding Day was in full effect.
I didn’t even have to try to keep my mind off anything, because it was so effortless to fully immerse myself into my best friend’s wedding day. We laughed and drank mimosas as Aunt Laura did our hair and Oliver’s cousin did our makeup, the wedding planner making everything feel calm and not rushed. It was easy hanging out with Oliver’s mom and sisters, and I could tell by the way Morgan and her mother lit up around them that they were all caught up in the bonding, in two families becoming one.
That was the magic of a wedding day.
We took pictures in our robes, and then enjoyed a light lunch before Morgan sat us all down and gave us personalized letters she’d written to us all. Luckily, Oliver’s cousin was there to patch up our makeup after we all bawled like babies.
The photographer and videographer were there to capture it all, and they especially took time and care as we all got dressed — me in the lilac bridesmaid dress Morgan had picked out for me, the mothers of the bride in similar shades, but their own styles, Oliver’s sisters in their gorgeous, beachy maxi dresses. And finally, Morgan in her wedding dress, each of us helping her — slipping on her shoes, putting her earrings in, fastening her necklace, lacing up the back.
When she was completely dressed, we all stood around her with our hands over our mouths and tears in our eyes, taking in her breathtaking beauty. The dress I’d watched her pick out in the shop just two weeks ago was somehow even more gorgeous now, the creamy lace stunning against her freshly bronzed skin, the sweetheart neckline and open back giving her a dreamy, almost Hollywood look. She was a star, glowing from every inch, her short hair curled and topped with a tasteful, delicate flower crown.
And before we knew it, Morgan and I stood behind the closed shutter doors of the beach house with her father, listening to the guests as they were seated outside and knowing her future husband waited at the end of the aisle.
Time slowed as I watched Morgan with her father, her arm threaded through his and dewy eyes cast up toward him. He smiled down at her with his own eyes misted, placing his hand over hers in his arm, assuring her with his strength and caring touch. They didn’t have to say a word for me to hear everything.
I love you.
I’m proud of you.
I’ve got you.
My heart stung with a longing, the same one I’d always had watching them together. I’d never know what that was like, to have a father like Robert, or to have a mother like Amanda — but this family was my family, too. And when Robert looked back at me, reaching his other hand for mine and pulled me into his side for a hug, the only thing that stopped me from sobbing was remembering how Oliver’s cousin threatened to murder us if we ruined her makeup one more time.
“I love you girls so much,” Robert said softly, and we both leaned into him, sniffing back emotion. “Let’s get you both down that aisle, shall we?”
We nodded, and Morgan reached out to squeeze my arm with a smile before I released them from my grasp and took my place in front of them. The wedding planner nodded once we were in place, speaking softly into her headpiece, and then she flashed me a smile and waved me forward, closer to the doors.
“Ready?” she asked.
And I was. I had been focused all day. I had felt good, right, warm and fuzzy and wrapped in love.