Page 67 of The Wedding Situation Romance

“Shit,” she says, covering it and guessing by the stinging in my jaw, I can only imagine how her mouth must feel.

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” I let out. “Are you okay?”

“It’s 8am,” she says, and my energy shifts from concern and guilt back to panic.

“Fuck,” I say again. Because of course, this isn’t your average wedding. It’s a beach wedding. A brunch wedding. A wedding that starts in an hour.

We both leap from the bed in a flurry. Neither of us has any clothes on, but neither of us cares. We are too busy ripping into suitcases, bumping into each other, trying to brush our teeth andshare the sink and shave and do hair and all the things so we don’t look like we, well, just crawled out of bed.

But what’s funny is even in the midst of the chaos of it all, neither of us says a word about last night. We weren’t drunk; that’s the interesting part. Not on alcohol anyways. I wouldn’t have slept with Quinn if she had been. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t take advantage of her. But I also meant it when I said if she instigated anything, I’d follow, no questions asked.

Honestly, considering the circumstances, I am a bit relieved that it’s a morning wedding. Instead of spending the day dancing around the elephant in the room, we can shift our attention to Ryan and Krissi as they say no less than twenty minutes worth of vows with the waves crashing behind them.

If I were into any of this junk, I’d say it’s pretty romantic.

Quinn, who obviously does believe in it, is sniffling softly next to me, and I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and hand it to her.

“Thanks,” she says as she wipes her pink-tinged nose and her flushed skin. This girl is even beautiful with tears streaming down her blotchy cheeks.

“I still don’t get it,” I whisper.

“What is there to get?” she asks. “They’re in love.”

“Okay, but why are you crying?” I ask and she looks at me.

“Because it’s beautiful,” she answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re committing themselves to that love in front of all the world. And we get to witness it. It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” I ask.

“Yes. Witnessing something that pure and beautiful is a gift,” she answers, and while I am still lost and could ask a dozen more questions, I let it go. For one, a woman with a gray bob cut and way too much lipstick is glaring at me. But also, it makes me think. Quinn’s answers about love are so simple and yet so foreign to me. And yet…for the first time in many,manyyears, I find myself intrigued by it.

When the ceremony is finally over, we all follow the bride and groom back to the hotel patio, where brunch is set up in the garden. Arches of flowers close us in, creating a private cove while still showing off the view of the beach. It’s a warm morning, but not too warm. Sunny with a hint of a cool breeze. Honestly, if we have to be here, dressed semi-formally while drinking pitchers of mimosa, it’s a pretty nice day for it. Logistically speaking.

But it isn’t just the view. It’s the set-up, the orange juice diluted Dom Perignon, and the lobster avocado toastinis that make this wedding almost enjoyable.

It’s Quinn.

Despite the lack of sleep (for reasons we shall not mention) and not knowing anyone at the table we are seated at, she is charming and sweet, and everyone is drawn to her.

“Seriously, August. I need to know where you found this one,” my friend Jordan says. “She is an absolute delight.”

“No can do,” I say, sipping my mimosa and kind of wishing I’d brought a whiskey flask.

“Oh come on, baby,” Quinn says, leaning into me all while resting a hand on my thigh. I nearly choke on my drink and blame it on the bubbles. “I think we can share our story.”

I smile and tip my glass in a go-ahead gesture, and Quinn goes on.

“It was a wedding, of all things,” she says.

“Of all things,” one of the wives echos.

“Of all things,” I say, because why not.

“I was a bridesmaid,” she smiles before looking over at me. “And he was a groomsman…”

The table gushes and I refill my glass, this time with straight champagne, sans OJ.

“That is so darling,” the woman says.