1
Weddings are supposed to be magical.
Romantic.
A celebration of love.
Instead, this one feels like a countdown to my inevitable doom.
Because by the time the cake has been cut and the last dance has been danced, my fake relationship with Wes Hale will officially be over.
And I have no idea how to deal with that.
Especially because my cousin actually believes this relationship is real.
And worse? So does everyone else.
___________________________
I stand in front of the full-length mirror in the bridal suite, staring at my reflection.
My dress is stunning. A soft champagne-colored satin that hugs me in all the right places, with a delicate lace back and a slit that's just enough to be elegant but still a little scandalous. My hair is pinned up, strands of curls escaping around my face, my makeup effortlessly soft.
I look the part of a bridesmaid in a fairytale wedding.
But inside?
I feel like a fraud.
Because the person I'm supposed to be in love with?
The man I'm supposed to belong to tonight?
He's not actually mine.
And if everyone finds out I've been lying this whole time....
I grip the edges of the vanity, taking a deep breath.
"You okay?"
I jump, nearly knocking over a bottle of setting spray, and turn to see Jane standing in the doorway, still in her silk robe, her smile warm but knowing.
"Fine," I lie.
She raises an eyebrow, stepping inside. "That was the least convincing 'fine' I've ever heard."
I force a laugh. "I guess I'm just nervous about today. Big day, you know?"
She leans against the vanity, arms crossed. "Big day for me or big day for you?"
My stomach tightens. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She shrugs. "You've been acting different since you got here. And from the way Wes keeps looking at you—"
I freeze. "Wes kept looking at me?"
Her smile turns smug.
"Oh, sweetie. He looks at you like he's already married to you."
Before I can fully process that information, she places a hand on my arm, giving me the kind of soft, sincere look that only makes me feel guiltier.
"I'm just really happy for you, Hal."
My stomach clenches. "Happy?"
She nods. "I remember all the times we talked about love growing up. And how you were never sure if you'd find someone who really got you."
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Because the truth is, I haven't.
At least, not the way she thinks I have.
I haven't found a forever love.
I haven't found someone who's mine.
I've just found Wes and this ridiculous, messy arrangement.
"I just knew the moment I saw you two together that this was it," she continues. "That he's your person."
I swallow hard.
Because I have no idea what to say to that.
___________________________
The ceremony is breathtaking.
Soft golden lights twinkle over the rows of chairs, the floral arch framing the altar is almost as gorgeous as my cousin in her wedding dress, and the music is enough to make even the most cynical person tear up.
But all I can focus on is Wes.
Standing at the altar as one of the groomsmen, looking effortlessly put together in his perfectly tailored black tux, his jaw sharp, his posture relaxed.
And when he turns his head, looking over his shoulder right at me—
My stomach drops.
Because the way he looks at me?
Like I'm his.
Like I've always been his.
And the worst part?
For a split second, I want to be.
After the vows are exchanged and my cousin officially becomes someone's forever, the reception begins.
Champagne is flowing, music is playing, people are laughing—and I am desperately trying to ignore the fact that Wes and I are about to have a very public, very choreographed dance together.
Because, of course, as part of the bridal party, we had to learn a formal dance routine.
The moment our names are called, Wes steps toward me, offering his hand.
His smug smile is already in place.
I glare at him. "If you drop me, I will murder you."
He grins, tugging me closer. "Please. You think I'd ever let you go?"
Dancing with Wes feels like stepping into a dream I never dared to have.
His touch is steady, his grip just firm enough to remind me that he's there, anchoring me in a way that makes my breath catch. Every step pulls he pulls me deeper into something unspoken, something electric. When he leans in, his breath warm against my ear, the world around us fades, leaving only the quiet thrum of my heartbeat and the way he holds me—like he's always meant to.
For years, I somehow convinced myself that I couldn't stand him. But in his arms, I've never felt more at home.
The moment he tilts his head down and murmurs, "Relax, Dawson," in that deep, teasing voice—
I'm gone.
I should pull away.
I should remind him that this ends after tonight.
But instead, I let him hold me.
And for the first time since this all started, I wonder if maybe—just maybe
I don't want it to end.
There was a tight grip on my arm.
I stumble slightly, blinking up at my ex-boyfriend Ethan.
His jaw is clenched, his eyes dark and slightly glazed over, and fingers firm around my wrist nails digging into my skin.
I flinched as his hold got tighter, He was drunk.
"Are you seriously in love with him?" His voice is low, sharp. Demanding.
Before I can even react, before I can yank my arm away, Wes is there.
His hand comes between us, shoving Ethan back just enough to create space.
"Watch it," Wes warns, his voice low and firm, his body tensing beside me.
Ethan scoffs, rolling his shoulders, but his eyes don't leave me.
"I knew it," he mutters. "I knew this wasn't real."
The words hang in the air, thick and heavy.
Because suddenly, I realize just how many people heard him.
My cousin.
Her new husband.
My family
And worst of all—
My mom.
I rip my arm away completely, stepping back. "Excuse me?"
"You don't have to lie anymore, Hallie," he continues. "I overheard you and Wes over the weekend trip . I know the whole thing was fake. And now I just want to know—"
His gaze flicks to Wes before landing back on me, sharp and demanding.
"Do you really love him?"
Not again.
The world tilts.
My throat closes.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
And that's when I feel it.
The weight of Wes's gaze.
And when I turn to him, I see it—the flicker of something real in his expression. Something raw. Something that terrifies me.
But before I can say anything, before I can even process the fact that I don't have an answer, Wes takes a step towards him
His voice drops into something very lethal.
"I'm only gonna say this once," he says, his posture calm but his tone anything but. "You don't talk to her like that. And you sure as hell don't get to touch her like that."
My ex exhales sharply, nostrils flaring, but Wes doesn't flinch.
Neither do I.
Because I'm too busy trying to figure out why my heart is beating so damn fast.