Richelle eased back to look at Melanie, her eyes wide. “You really think so?”
Again, Melanie felt her stomach tightening. She had run from Lawrence months ago, but seeing him again, she knew he was still in her heart. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I do know that I’ve been hoping to see him all day. Last night, you called me on my claim that I’d gotten closure, and you were right. I was lying. To myself, mostly. All I keep thinking about is how Lawrence was with that woman, and now I haven’t seen him all day.” She paused. Swallowed. She hadn’t wanted to burden Richelle with her thoughts, not on the eve of her wedding. “Maybe it’s too late for me and Lawrence, but you and Roy...that’s an entirely different story. He adores you. Absolutely. And in your heart, you know that. Seriously, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about.”
Richelle dabbed at her eyes again, but the edges of her lips began to curl. “You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. And there’s one thing you ought to know by now, I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Satisfied with that, Richelle nodded and finally smiled. “I do know that.” She breathed in deeply. “Okay. I can do this.”
“Girl, you didn’t drag me on a plane—and heck, a seaplane—to not do it.”
That elicited a chuckle from Richelle. “That’s for sure. Okay, I’m going to do this.”
“You’re going to do this.”
“And it’s gonna be great.”
“It’s gonna be amazing. And you’re going to be happy forever. I’m absolutely certain of that.”
Richelle threw her arms around Melanie’s neck. “Thanks, Mel. Thanks so much.”
As Richelle eased back, Melanie couldn’t help thinking about the advice she’d just given her friend and wondering why she hadn’t been able to apply it to her own life.
Instead, she had let Lawrence go.
There was a sudden knock on the bathroom door, then Roy called out, “Everything okay in there?”
“I’m fine,” Richelle said. She glanced at herself in the mirror, fluffed her hair and then went to the door. Melanie watched Roy pull Richelle into his arms the moment she went through the door.
“I was worried,” Roy said.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Richelle said. “I just needed a moment.”
Roy glanced at Melanie as she exited the bathroom, too, and his gaze held hers a beat too long. Then he said to Richelle, “Don’t scare me like that again.”
Melanie knew exactly what he feared. That like Melanie had done, Richelle was contemplating not walking down the aisle.
“Everything’s fine,” Melanie told him, offering him a reassuring smile. Then she continued on, leaving the two of them alone.
And not just for their sake, but because she needed to be alone with her thoughts of Lawrence.
Melanie drew in a shaky breath as she remembered a few days earlier when she had first set eyes on him in Fiji. As her eyes had traveled up that magnificent body... Good Lord, what a shock! And while she had been absolutely stunned to see him—mortified, actually—her body had also been electrified. It had been as if she had touched a live wire.
Even as she’d tried to get away from him, the one thing she hadn’t been able to escape was how utterly incredible he looked. One glimpse of him had been enough for her to realize just how much she had missed him.
She had talked to Richelle about closure. She had told herself for nine months that she had dodged a bullet by not marrying Lawrence. But now, as she sauntered back into the restaurant, hugging her torso, all she felt was conflicted and uncertain.
Melanie recognized herself in the Richelle who had been sobbing in the bathroom. The difference was, Richelle was going to go through with her wedding. She wasn’t running scared. She trusted her love for Roy.
Why hadn’t Melanie been able to trust Lawrence’s love?
She was far from convinced that she’d made the right decision. In fact, she couldn’t stop thinking that she’d made the biggest mistake ever when she’d let Lawrence go.
Chapter 7
Melanie didn’t see Lawrence at all the rest of that day, but she spent much of the night dreaming about making love to him, and awoke in a state of arousal. Quickly, she glanced at the other side of the bed, and found it empty. For which she was glad. She didn’t want to think that she’d done anything to embarrass herself with Richelle there to bear witness.
She glanced around the room, and then saw that Richelle was standing on the patio overlooking the ocean. Melanie got out of bed and went outside to join her.
“Hey,” Melanie said brightly, shading her eyes from the sun with one hand. “Morning.”
Richelle didn’t face her. She continued to look forward at the vast turquoise waters. “You stand here, being still, taking the time to see what’s around you, and you realize you are one small part of a big world. A beautiful world.” She faced Melanie. “How can you be afraid in a place like this? Everything is calm, peaceful. It’s stunning, isn’t it?”
“If ever there was a description of paradise, this is it,” Melanie said.
“It’s a perfect day.” Richelle sniffled and reached for Melanie’s hand. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Yes, it is. It couldn’t be more perfect.”
“My wedding day.” Richelle sighed contentedly. “It’s finally here.”
“You ready?”
“Absolutely.” Richelle beamed. “I’ll never be more ready.”
A surge of emotion washed over Melanie as she remembered the contrast of how she had felt on the morning of her wedding. Crippled by fear.
Melanie squeezed Richelle’s hand. “Then let’s go do this.”
* * *
As Melanie, Richelle and the rest of the official party began to get ready, Melanie was able to push thoughts of Lawrence aside. She was too busy to obsess over him, and it was time for her to be there for Richelle as her maid of honor.
With Richelle’s makeup and hair done and sleeveless princess-style dress on, Melanie’s eyes filled with happy tears. “Wow, Richelle. You look gorgeous. Seriously, you are the most beautiful bride. Ever.”
Richelle’s chest heaved with a shaky breath. “Thanks, Mel.”
Richelle, Melanie and the bridal party were in a special wedding bure, from where the wedding procession would begin. Melanie and Richelle were side by side in front of a standing mirror framed in bamboo wood, staring at their reflections.
“You’re the princess you wanted to be,” Melanie said. “A princess on your fairy-tale day.”
Melanie was wearing a beautiful red dress made of satin that swooped low over her breasts, and hung to the floor. The two other bridesmaids were wearing similar dresses. The gown defined Melanie’s shape, and she found herself thinking that if Lawrence could see her now, he wouldn’t be able to resist her.
“The flowers on my veil don’t seem right,” Richelle said, pulling Melanie from her thoughts.
“Here,” Melanie said, and adjusted the crown of white flowers so that it was symmetrical. “There you go. Better?”
Richelle checked out her reflection, and nodded. “Thank you. I guess we should finally take the official pictures. David has been patiently waiting.”
Moments later, David, the photographer, was taking photos of the bridal party. When Melanie