The Real(75)

“Bree, please, I don’t want to be upset.” I’d just gotten to the point where I could function. Work was my refuge, and as much as I hated to admit it, I’d gone right back into spending my nights with Mrs. Zingaro. Nothing had changed. It was as if he had never existed, except he did. His tux was still hanging in my closet. I could still smell a hint of his cologne, a haunting reminder.

“We’re doing it. Right now. Sixty seconds.”

I shook my head. “Don’t. Or I swear to God, I’m going to ruin your wedding photos. I’ll photoshop a dildo in every single one.”

“I’ll marry Anthony again next year and take new pictures.”

“I hate you,” I said as she gripped my hands.

Prompting brown eyes commanded mine. “Sixty seconds starts now.”

“No.”

“Do you love him?”

We were both short in stature, but she may as well have stood ten feet tall. We used the same technique in college to get to the bottom of things. But it usually had to do with whether or not I ate her nana’s baked goods. What can I say? The woman was a goddess in the kitchen.

“Stay with me,” she said, jerking me into the moment. “Do you love him?”

“Yes, so much. You know I do.”

“Do you want it to be over?”

“No. God, no.”

“Do you think he’s a cheating pig?”

I cringed at her words. “No.”

“Do you think he was telling the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s not that type of man.”

“Will you give him a chance?”

“No.”

“Are you ruining your own chances of happiness with that answer?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Times up.”

She gripped my shoulders and squeezed. “Why?”

“Because I’m scared I’ll be wrong again.”

“You aren’t. Not this time. Not about him. Listen to me. This. Is. Your. Man.”

I crumbled in her hold as she spoke on, ignoring my tears. “Luke was an evil bastard who took your innocence and made you feel guilty afterward. You’ll never get that back, and you’ll never be as naïve. You were cautious this time, and with good reason, but you know better with Cameron because this guy just wants to love you. Exchange your baggage and you two will be better for it. Don’t miss your man on some principle that he was wrong. Hear him out before you make a decision. Or even better, don’t ask questions for once. Trust yourself and reap the reward. You don’t have to know every sordid detail about someone to truly love them. Life changes people in a matter of seconds. We both know that. Who he was a year ago is not who he is today. Maybe you changed him for the better and are hurting him for the worse. You know who you love. You know who Cameron is. You don’t have to know who he was before you loved him. Don’t be so black and white about all of this.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said with a wobbling chin.

“Hurry up, Abbie. It’s not over for you and you’re only hurting your chances by playing it safe.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know,” she said. “Now it’s time for me to get married.”

“Bree,” I said with an emotion-filled voice.

“I know. You love me, you’re happy for me. Blah blah, save it for the toast.”

“Okay. But I do love you.”

“You better.” She took a deep breath and grabbed her bouquet. “Roses are so traditional, don’t you think? I can’t believe I bought into all this hoopla. I expected better of myself.”

“They’re my favorite too. I didn’t know it, though.”

“Oh?” she said, taking a whiff of the heavenly scented stems. “Cameron?”

I nodded, picking up my own bouquet. “Where’s the honeymoon again?”

“I still don’t know because Anthony planned it. He said he’s taking me somewhere I’ve never been.”

A knock at the door had both of our eyes widening.

“Showtime,” I said with a wink.

“I’m coming for you Big Dick!” Bree yelled before I pulled her into a hug.

My mother’s laughter rang out from the other side of the door.




“Keep the blindfold on, baby.” Anthony led his wife through the doorway as we all stood silently in wait.

“What is going on!” Bree asked excitedly. “The jig’s up, husband. The car ride wasn’t long enough to make it to O’Hare and we didn’t even cut the cake! Everyone is going to be so pissed off we missed our own reception.” Anthony guided her outside as we all held in our chuckles.

“Do you trust me?”

“Are things about to get freaky? If so, babe, you need to let me limber up—”

“Hold that thought,” Anthony said, cupping her mouth as his face turned crimson. A chuckle was heard, and Bree paused her footing. “I just heard my nana laugh. Anthony, what is happening?”

When he had her centered where he needed her, he took a step back. “Okay, babe, now.” She removed her blindfold as we all watched.