Maybe it's Fate - Weston Parker Page 0,1
the wedding was nice. It was a perfectly respectable establishment close enough to Houston that our guests wouldn’t have to spend the night.
The bridal suite Ember and I were getting ready in had a nice sitting area, a nice big bath, and a nice balcony. It was, well, nice.
My parents were downstairs, ready and waiting, which was nice too. We’d never had the greatest of relationships, but I was truly grateful that they’d made the trip from Dallas, where they’d retired.
“Let it go, Em. Will and I are compatible in every way. We enjoy each other’s company. He doesn’t drive me crazy, doesn’t fool around on me, and we have a good time together.”
She leaned forward, fought with the tulle to have somewhere to rest her elbows, and looked me right in the eyes. “If you’re in love with someone, they’re supposed to drive you crazy from time to time. You shouldn’t just have a good time with them. You should be counting the hours until you get to see them again.”
“That’s just the way it is in stories. It’s not real life. Real life is knowing there’s dinner waiting for whoever gets home last. It’s being able to live with a person’s quirks and loving them anyway.”
“That’s just my point, though. You don’t love him.” Ember never pulled any punches. The girl was as straightforward as a mid-summer’s day was long. “I mean, think about it. You guys schedule your private time and you never do anything outside of it.”
Damn all those tequila shots at my bachelorette party. I never should’ve told her that. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping to a healthy schedule that both parties have agreed to and can live up to.”
She slammed her back into her chair and widened her heavily made-up eyes at me. “Fifteen minutes twice a week is not healthy for a newly engaged people, hon.”
“Twenty-five minutes with time for foreplay included,” I grumbled. “That’s perfectly acceptable.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Perfectly acceptable doesn’t cut it.” She pointed a French-tipped nail at the window. “Do you really think there would still be civilization out there if people only had sex on the clock? Hell no.”
“There are a lot of people out there who schedule it.”
“Sure, but for a man with the last name Will has, you’d think he would at least make it enjoyable enough for you not to only want to schedule it.”
I was never drinking tequila again. It was official. “So what if his prowess isn’t overwhelming. It’s not underwhelming either. It’s just whelming enough. There’s nothing wrong with scheduling.”
“Scheduling it is fine for parents and whatnot, but you’re a young couple who’s supposed to be in love. Yet you’re never just spontaneous.”
“Spontaneity can’t be planned,” I replied dryly. “You, of all people, know how much I love my planner.”
“Professionally? Sure. Your personal time doesn’t always have to be planned though. What do you do if you find a really good show on TV on a Saturday night? You can’t plan that kind of binge-watching.”
“That’s different.” I scooted forward on my chair and took her hands in mine. “I appreciate that you’re trying to watch out for me, but it’s time to let it go. It might not seem like it, but in my own way, I do love Will.”
“If you say so.” The furrow between her brows told me she wasn’t convinced. “It’s not too late for us to sneak out the back.”
I squeezed her hands. “I can’t tell you how much I love you for knowing just how honestly you mean that, but I’m fine. I’ve spent too much time planning this to bail out now. This is the right thing for me to do.”
Her eyes caught mine and she let out a heavy sigh, shrugging as she withdrew her hands to pick up her champagne again. “If you change your mind, let me know. I parked near the back entrance just in case.”
“Thank you.” I really meant it. “I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m ready. We have our honeymoon in Fiji for a week, everything’s already booked and paid for, and after that, I’m hoping to convince Will we need to find a new apartment. I’m ready for this next chapter in my life, Em. I promise.”
“You still haven’t decided whose place you’re going to stay in from now on?” She sucked in a deep breath. “Come on, Linds. You’re getting married today.”
“I know. We just—”
A sharp knock at the door interrupted us.
I frowned at my friend before