Page 59 of When Forever Falls Apart

Madelina groans dramatically, yet the smile on her face tells a different story. “You’re really making this difficult for me, aren’t you?”

“You certainly made it hard for me,” I counter. “No pun intended.”

Laughter fills the air as she tries to calm herself down. “Oh my God, look at me. I’m tipsy on a fake date with my best friend’s older brother, and I danced with my ex-fiancé, whom I left at the altar. This runaway bride is a hot mess right now.”

I take a long, fulfilling sip of my drink, savoring the moment, but then reality crashes back.I need to drive us home soon.

“I have to slow down if you want to get home in one piece,” I say out loud. “Stella mentioned your wedding was supposed to be an extravagant affair.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s why I loathe them now,” she admits, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “It became bigger than the two of us, and I hated it. I envisioned an enchanting moment, a fairy tale, you know? But the reality is, you’re binding yourself to one person for eternity, all while standing before your family and friends, and spending a fortune on stupid things like amuse-bouche. It almost feels like PTSD now.”

“Amuse-bouche, if prepared correctly, can be quite enjoyable,” I tell her.

Madelina flinches her head back slightly. “It’s a small blob of God knows what.”

“It’s because they’re not ordered off the menu, and it’s prepared according to the chef’s style. I, for one, find that people enjoy the pickled baby beets complemented by herbed goat cheese. For a colorful palette and to ignite the taste buds, pairing it with a citrus fruit makes it so much better.”

“You lost me at baby beets,” she deadpans.

“How could I lose you at baby beets?” I ask, surprised to hear such nonsense. “You’re telling me you don’t like them?”

“Hated them as a kid.”

“Well, you’re not a kid anymore,” I remind her. “So, what pushed you to go through with it? Ending the wedding, I mean.”

“Mmm… Eva and Aston,” Madelina replies, staring outinto the now dark meadow. “They’d been sneaking around behind my back, acting like they could hide it. My brother changed, and he was happy, you know. But it only reminded me how miserable I had become.”

I watch the lily pads floating like small green boats on the surface of the pond. Around us, spotlights point toward the lily pads, providing a warm ambiance. Bluebell Ranch is a pretty nice place, but it ain’t Paris.

“They really make it appear effortless, the whole being-in-love thing,” I say.

“It should be, shouldn’t it? Being with your soulmate should feel as natural as breathing,” she muses, her gaze distant.

I shrug lightly. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” she presses, but as her eyes fix on mine, I can see she’s about to ask something uncomfortable. “Did you think Nicole was your soulmate?”

My lips press down as I allow my shoulders to relax from the breath I’d unknowingly been holding in. “No.”

“So, this wholemorething, I’m trying to figure it out,” Madelina says, her voice soft with a hint of sadness. “What is love, you know?”

“C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour,” I respond with one of my favorite Camus quotes.

Madelina tilts her head, her brow furrowing in concentration. “That is love, to give everything, to sacrifice everything, without hope of return. I think?”

“Tu parles français?” I ask, a grin breaking across my face.

“Yes… no. It takes me a moment to piece it all together,” Madelina responds candidly, then smiles brightly. “You know what they say about a man who can speak French?”

“Let me venture a wild guess,” I say, leaning closer.

Madelina laughs. “I guess you have the whole package.”

My body inches closer to hers, eyes drawn to her lips,longing to kiss her this time without the prying eyes of the wedding guests upon us. But then the best man steps out, calling us back inside for the cutting of the cake and the couple’s first dance.

Inside, the atmosphere buzzes with excitement as the happy couple and their guests gather around the cowboy-hat-shaped cake, an explosion of cheers erupting as they kiss. The band invites everyone to the dance floor, and instantly, Madelina pulls me by the hand back to the spot where we first danced.

As “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz plays in the background, I draw her in closer, the scent of her sweet perfume intoxicating.