Page 12 of Into the Dark
After Tash leaves, I switch out the light to lie in the gradually cooling room and stare out the open window into the French sky. As I gaze up at Laurent’s favorite constellation I wonder, as I always do, where Jake is, if he’s safe, if he still loves me, and if he’ll ever forgive me for the things I said to him that day in my kitchen.
“Ready?” I ask.
She doesn’t look nervous; she’s a sea of perfectly poised calm. Assured and confident in the knowledge she’s marrying the man she loves and nothing is going to change that. She looks breathtakingly gorgeous. I mean, she always does, but today there’s an aura about her, as though a warm, glowing light emanates from her every pore.
Happiness and love will do that to a person.
Her hair is pinned loosely, pink flowers woven into it at random intervals, and some blonde strands fall free about her face. Her makeup is light and fresh and her blue eyes bright and sparkling with unchecked emotion. Dan is going to pass out when he sees her.
“Yep, ready. Bring it on,” she announces before taking a deep breath. “Are you ready?” she asks, eyes going soft and a little sad. “You look amazing, babe. Sooo stunning. I’m so glad you’re here.” She pulls me into a tight hug.
“Um, where else would I be?”
She squeezes me tightly for a moment before pulling back to smile at me. “Nowhere. You were always going to be right here.”
I smile as I skim my hand over the pearl drop necklace I loaned her to fix its placement. It looks pretty against the soft, warm glow of her skin, complementing the new pearl earrings Dan bought for her to wear today. She reaches out to grab my hand tight.
“I love you so much,” she says, and I feel the tears well up behind my eyes.
“I love you too,” I tell her.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rob says quietly. When I shake my head and open my mouth to say something she shushes me gently. “Hey, trust me. I know these things.”
“Okay, I trust you. Now, let’s go get you married.” I move around behind her and crouch down to fluff out the train at the back of her dress.
Standing, I lift her bouquet and hand it to her before taking a last look in the mirror at myself. My bridesmaid dress is gorgeous: long, vine-green layered chiffon that knots over one shoulder, leaving my back bare. My hair is in a similar style to Rob’s, white flowers pinned into the loose style. France has given me a warm glow, a healthy complexion, despite the dark circles under my eyes and the weight I’ve lost. To the casual observer at least, I look good. Well. I dab some blush on my cheeks and lips before grabbing my bouquet and turning back to face Rob. She’s still smiling, warm and happy, and I feel a little more of the residual sadness melt away.
“Okay, let’s do this!” she exclaims. “Dan, babe, I really wish your surname sounded better with Robyn, but I love you.” She grabs my hand and pulls me with her from the room.
Rob and Fred’s wedding party has taken over the whole of Illeam Castle—a gorgeous seventeenth-century residence in the middle of the Sussex countryside. When I drove up to it last night it looked like something out of a horror film. But when I went for a walk around the grounds to clear my head this morning it was a different place altogether. Red sandstone exterior crawling with ivy, acres of gardens manicured to perfection, and an actual moat surrounding it. A perfectly English castle in the perfectly English countryside.
There are about a hundred guests attending today, and another hundred or so arriving later for the evening reception in the ballroom. There’s an overspill marquee outside too, which will have a hog roast, DJ, and bar for when the evening guests start to tire and need refueling. I’ll play the piano piece I’ve chosen for them before that at the champagne reception just before the party starts.
I feel sick with nerves about the whole thing. But I’ve felt sick for days, weeks, so what’s one more thing to feel sick about? I’m actually not worried about the piece itself; I’ve chosen well and practiced a lot. I’m only worried about messing it up in front of a hundred people. Rob hasn’t even heard it yet. She said she wanted to be “surprised and emotional” along with everyone else.
The wedding coordinator, Liam, is waiting just outside the door of the large bridal suite, and he takes a long, appraising look at Rob. The photographer and videographer, who left the suite a few minutes before, also turn in our direction as we come out, cameras raised.
“Robyn, you look stunning, darling. Alex—beautiful too, perfect. Everyone is so beautiful at this wedding. It’s a crime. Everyone’s ready for you, Robyn, sweetheart. You all set?” His northern accent is calm and professional like he’s done this a million times before.
“Yep, good to go. Let’s go get me a husband. Where’s my dad?”
“He’s waiting just down those stairs for you. I think he’s more nervous than you.” Liam smiles.
“Yeah, he’ll be necking the hip flask already no doubt,” she laughs, linking my arm through hers.
The inside of the castle is a gorgeous old medieval style with sandstone walls and old antiques but with some contemporary touches thrown in here and there. Paul is indeed waiting just at the foot of the stairs, and when he turns around and spots her descending I think he’s about to burst into tears.
“Sweetheart.” He covers his mouth. “You look…Christ, stunning. Look at you.” He can only stare at her, frozen, for a moment before she throws her arms around him.
Josh, the videographer, moves past me to get a shot of them.
I adore Rob’s dad. Tall, trusting, and gentle, I’ll never forget how heartbroken and changed he was in the months after Rob’s mum left. As Rob hugs her dad tight I see the first signs of tears from her, and when he squeezes his eyes shut and whispers something into her ear I feel myself well up. It’s a beautiful moment, and I look around for the photographer too, but he’s already inside. Liam gestures for us to wait “two minutes” and then sneaks inside the room, holding the door for the videographer.
While we wait for the signal, Rob practically bounces up and down with excitement between her father and me. I beam at her before kneeling to fluff out her dress again. When Liam returns, the doors are pulled open wide, and I stand and move in front of Rob and her dad.
From here I get my first look at the packed drawing room. Good god. How does she even know this many people? Liam checks Rob and her dad are ready before giving me a final reassuring smile and gesturing to someone on the inside of the room. Then I hear people standing up. As the soft string sound of Pachelbel starts, I glance back at Rob, who gives me a bright, excited smile, before I turn and step into the room.
A soft gray carpet runs up the aisle, which is scattered with white rose petals that suddenly remind me of Jake and cause a whisper of something cold and sad to brush over me. I’m about halfway down when I spot Dad smiling at me as he might do if it were my own wedding day, and I give him a bright smile before focusing back on the front where Dan is waiting, with Mark just to his left.