UNEDITED
*You have to read The Truth About Faking before reading this novella!*
This is a novella about Jake and Gemma's wedding and the events leading up to it.
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Jake
The music that's playing is an instrumental version of Shania Twain's "From This Moment On." I'm standing at the altar in the midst of the vineyard, the view of the mountains and Lake Okanagan behind me as I watch my sister, Penelope, and Morgane walk down the grassy aisle in their flats. Their dresses are a rustic mauve colour and the bouquets are white, made entirely of baby's breath. Each of them looks stunningly gorgeous, but especially Hanna. It's hard to believe that she's twenty already.
When my sister makes eye contact with me and smiles, I have to choke back a fresh wave of tears that wants to escape. Hanna has grown up so much, and so have I. I wish Mom and Dad could be here to see us. To see what we've accomplished. I think they would be proud of us.
Hanna, Morgane, and Penelope take their seats along the front of the seating arrangements, next to Nolan and Reid. Aside from the marriage officiant behind me, standing next to the wine barrel that's acting as the altar, Cassian and I are the only ones standing up front. I take a deep breath and glance back at my best man and the ring bearer. Cassian winks at me and then gestures down at the rings in his hands. I suppress an eye roll – that's the last thing I want to be caught on camera by Hanna. Now that she's finished walking down the aisle and acting as a bridesmaid, she's acting as our wedding photographer. She tried to convince Gemma and I that she could do it for free, but we refused; Hanna's being paid whether she likes it or not.
Turning my back on Cassian, I focus on the aisle ahead of me, waiting for Gemma to come walking down with her dad. My nerves are on the edge right now. I'm not sure how I'm going to react when I see her in her wedding dress. I've already seen it, yes, but the last time I did, Gemma wasn't walking down the aisle; we weren't in the middle of a wedding ceremony.
I take a deep breath. And just as the music softens, I see her. She's in her beautiful wedding dress, her arm looped through her dad's as they begin to walk down the aisle. The bouquet in Gemma's hands is composed of baby's breath, magnolias, and mauve-coloured roses. But even the beauty of the bride's bouquet doesn't compare to how stunningly gorgeous she looks. I stare at her, my lips slightly parted. Her hair is done up in a messy bun with two braids acting like a crown atop her head, and her dress hugs her body perfectly, revealing a shadowed dip between her breasts and defining her collarbone. She's staring down at the bouquet in her hands, giving me an unapparelled view of her graceful neck, as well as my mother's earrings, which are sparkling in the light of the setting sun.
A warm, fuzzy feeling encompasses me. As much as I wish my parents were here to see this, I'm happy that we have a representation of them with us. Those earrings were special to my mom and, in turn, special to my dad; they already carry a heavyset amount of memories. Adding more to them seems like the best way to remeber them. I hope, wherever my parents are now, they can see what's happening. I hope they can see how happy I am now; that I moved on and carved a place for myself and my family-to-be in this world.
