My Beloved: A Thin Love Novella(20)
It was a question she asked herself last night, had been asking since the fiasco at the airport. She’d seen the wedding and the over-the-top ridiculousness swelling for days now and had kept quiet, never mentioning to Kona that it was all too much for her. Coupled with their arguing, making up and Keira’s annoyingly incessant worry that she would get lost in the shuffle while Kona took Ransom along with him in his search for the spotlight, she hadn’t found the nerve to speak up. Things were already so stressful, so chaotic, and Keira simply didn’t think she could add more tension to an already tense situation.
The knot that had been so expertly rubbed away during her massage returned, pinching down into Keira’s shoulders and, without really thinking about it, she rubbed her fingers against her skin, watching over the activity in the crowded room while Mark stared at her, his gaze focused and scrutinizing.
“We can get through this. Once we do, things will get back to normal.” Mark didn’t seem convinced and Keira closed her eyes, moving her head in a shake when Mark’s frown only deepened. “Would you please do me a favor and stop stressing me out?” He began to speak, even opened his mouth in some weird variety of an appalled, insulted gasp, but Keira shook her head, stopping him before he could bicker back. “Mark, please. Shit is already more than I can handle. I know you’re worried and I love you for it, but I don’t need you getting in my business. Okay?”
He cleared his throat, looking unhappy and pissy, but nodded once to Keira. “Fine. But if shit like that,” he pointed to the closed glass door behind them, “happens again and Hale isn’t there to handle it, I’m personally going to get in his face.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’d hate for you to get your ass handed to you on my wedding day.” When Keira winked at him, Mark laughed, hugged her tight. She let herself rest against his chest, just for a moment, just for a second so that the pressure mounting in her mind didn’t consume her. It was a brief reprieve, one that Keira appreciated, one she hoped would help her with the escalating storm her wedding day had become.
Keira couldn’t breathe.
Literally.
“Malaine, I think the corset is too tight. I feel like my face is blue. Do I look blue?” Keira’s head felt like it weighed fifty pounds.. That didn’t help her as she looked around the large room just outside the hallway that led to the resort venue. A fifty pound head and a fifteen pound gown made movement nearly impossible and she wasn’t quite ready to test her mobility.
“Cuz, you look fine. Beautiful. Really.” Keira tried to return Malaine’s smile, but the woman tipped her chin and moved away too quickly, falling into a loud conversation with one of the bridesmaids whose name had never registered in Keira’s memory.
There were at least twenty-five people in this room. Bridesmaids decked out in various styles of the same dark pink gowns, large, fresh hibiscuses in their hair, photographers—those who were supposed to be there to document the big day—hair and make-up people touching up curls and cleaning up smeared mascara; resort staff who walked around with trays of champagne and, of course, Leann who’d helped Keira squeeze into the massive, overly expensive gown and Mark who sat in the corner of the room—black tux with the same dark pink tie and a small hibiscus on his lapel— and one hand holding his phone as he texted back and forth to Johnny, the other in a tight grip around a half empty glass of champagne.
Crowds of people. Faces she didn’t know, smiles she appreciated but didn’t find comforting or familiar. Lights, cameras, laughter… Keira thought she might pass out.
“Keira?” She grabbed onto Leann when her cousin knelt down in front of her, pushing a frigid glass of water in her hand. “You don’t look blue. You look pale. What’s wrong?”
“The corset. It’s so tight.”
Leann frowned, pushing aside the long, ornate veil before she moved behind Keira to examine the back of her strapless gown. “Honey, I’ve got two fingers between the corset and your back. It’s not tight at all.”
She handed Leann the water and got up on shaky legs, walking toward the bathroom at the back of the room, not bothering to acknowledge the nods she received around her. “I need a minute,” she told her cousin as she trailed behind Keira, waving to Mark to follow them over her shoulder.
“Sweetie, the ceremony is in forty-five minutes. If you have to pee, we need to be quick about it.”
Keira slipped into the bathroom, which wasn’t much bigger than the tiny apartment Keira had rented when she first landed in Nashville. The bathroom at least had large tile floors and Carrera marble countertops with an ornate mirror of vines and flowers carved into the dark wood frame. The dingy apartment in Nashville had plywood subfloors, sloppily patched holes in the drywall and a cheap orange and brown serape thrown on the floors to act as a rug. Keira had no idea why that stupid place had popped into her mind, but it stuck there as she moved toward the faucet and trickled cold water on her neck and the small wish that she was back at that apartment flittered through her thoughts.
“Keira, don’t get your gown wet,” Leann said, coming into the bathroom with Mark right behind her.
Keira glared at her cousin in the mirror then closed her eyes when she spotted Mark’s frown and the fierce way he chewed on his bottom lip. She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. Not when she only had a few minutes to catch her breath and break from the constant stream of people who kept approaching her, asking her to do one thing or another, asking if she was nervous, telling her she looked beautiful, commenting that Kona and Ransom both had asked why she wasn’t answering her cell.