2.8 | Miles Away

01 | While Away The Hours (II)

 

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W H I L E   A W A Y   T H E   H O U R S

(part two)

BY THE TIME we arrived, the driveway of Sereinn was filled with cars that carried guests for the wedding. The ceremony wasn't for another two hours, but Brielle had arranged for an open bar and few would say no to that.

I left Ean to park the car and led Ms Swinton into the lobby. Sereinn never looked lovelier than it did in wintertime, where it became a wonderland of fairy lights and blue tinsel. Even so, I knew that Ms Swinton was carrying out her own private inspection. She brushed a hand against the lacquered front desk, then stopped to pluck invisible lint off the couch.

But when she frowned up at the white Christmas tree—still bare because it was one of the many things on my to-do list, I quickly hurried her along. "The lift's waiting, Ms Swinton. Brielle's room is on the third floor."

"And the boy?"

It took me a second to realize that she was asking about the groom. "Right this way."

A babble of noise hit us when we entered the dressing room. Filled with groomsmen, their dates and several other guests, the group was sampling the wine that Brielle had flown in from France. The groom, however, was seated on the counter table as he fixed his own tie.

I'd known Carson Flores all my life. Everyone in this town did. He'd been shunned, insulted and cast aside through no fault of his own. I'd never paid much heed to the rumors of what his dad had done, but then again, I'd always known Carson as the kind waiter who gave me extra chocolate syrup on my waffles.

But it wasn't until then, as I watched Ms Swinton greet her future son-in-law with unexpected warmth, that I realized he'd won. Carson now had the job he liked, the girl he loved and the mother he'd always needed. The only way to get even with the town that made your life hell was to prove that you could still find your slice of heaven in spite of what they did. If life were a game, then Carson Flores was winning.

And I couldn't be happier for him.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the groom's chuckle. "Don't you think it's a bit too early for the waterworks, Darce?"

Sniffling inelegantly, I looked up at Carson, who stared at me with equal parts worry and amusement. "I can't help it. I know how hard you've had it all these years, and I'm just so glad it's over."

His gaze softened and he reached for the tissue box. I grabbed one and blew my nose into it.

"Are you scared?" I asked. "Big day and all."

"Not at all." He grinned when I glanced at him in surprise. "The thing is, I've loved Brielle long before I even understood what that word meant, so I'm quite looking forward to it. Not the wedding—that part's a drag, but what happens after."

"The honeymoon?"

"Marriage, and everything that comes with it."

Sniffling again, I patted my eyes, then let out a squawk of dismay when I found the tissue stained with mascara. "Now you've ruined my makeup!"

He laughed harder at that and handed me another tissue. "Still looking lovely, Darce. But I'm sure Brielle will fix your makeup if you asked."

As if on cue, the doors flew open with a bang and my eyes widened. "Damn, how did she know?"

I spun round with a grimace, only to realize that it wasn't Brielle but Flo. Flo—who was the self-appointed wedding planner, even though Brielle had it all under control, and whose eyes narrowed when she saw me.