Beads of sweat formed, the heat driving Violet toward the front of the bakery, where she snagged a frosted sugar cookie.
As she perched herself on the edge of a table, she pressed her phone screen against the worn fabric of her yoga pants. It began to burn her thigh, urging her to flip her cell over and study the pictures of her ex’s wedding that she absolutely didn’t want to see.
Why would she torture herself?
As if someone else were in charge of her wrist, it twisted. Without permission, her thumb tapped on Leah’s message.
Then there they were. Her ex-basically-fiancé and his blushing bride.
I’d blush, too, if I were wearing that gown. The neckline of Crystal’s dress plunged halfway to her belly button. On a slender, small-breasted woman, it might look classy, but Crystal’s fake boobs were about to make their escape. The tapered waist showed off the fact that, unlike Violet, Crystal didn’t need to lose twenty pounds, and the skirt and train were detailed with—what else?—crystals.
Maybe the gown was on the risqué side, but there was no denying how radiant the bride was.
Leah had added a GIF of Heidi Klum making a face, the word wow along the bottom, and Amanda had added a yikes one that showed Britney Spears pulling the kind of face you did when you’d just seen something bad.
With the torture already in full swing, Violet shoved the last of the cookie into her mouth and scrolled to the next picture—this one sent by Amanda.
Violet’s heart ceased beating when she spotted the bride’s bouquet and the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses. The image blurred as her eyes filled with unshed tears.
There were only so many colors, but purple? Seriously? Benjamin couldn’t tell Crystal, Whoa, hold on there, Violet’s favorite color is purple, and I’ve seen pictures in a dream wedding binder that are eerily similar to everything you’ve picked out?
How dare they take that from me. My name freaking means purple!
No longer fully in control of her body, Violet stormed out of the bakery. She yanked open the passenger door to her car and dug around for the stupid binder she never wanted to see again.
Her bun snagged on one of the screws underneath the seat, prickling pain accompanying the tug that freed it. A mad sort of dizziness set in as she withdrew the binder.
As if to spite her, it glittered in the last rays of daylight.
Violet grabbed the lighter out of her glovebox and stormed into the alleyway beside the bakery.
“Someday, my curvy ass!” Someday had been Benjamin’s favorite lie. The way he strung her along for an entire decade.
We’ll get married after we graduate college.
After I land this job.
Once we have more money saved.
I’m so stressed right now, babe. Let’s wait till after I get the promotion.
Someday soon, but I really need a new car, and it’s the smarter investment.
After every single wedding they attended together—most of which she’d been a part of—Benjamin would lovingly peer into her eyes and say, Babe, we’re next.
Ten years she’d waited.
Toward the end of Maisy’s reception, where she’d once again been a bridesmaid, Violet had gone in search of her boyfriend. She’d resolved to tell him it was high time they set a date and do the damn thing already.
Only when she finally found him in an abandoned room of the reception hall, one of the female wedding guests had been straddling him, her skirt up around her waist and Benjamin’s tongue down her throat.
“That asshole.” Violet chucked her wedding binder against the outside wall of the bakery. Satisfaction mixed with the anger coursing through her as she watched pages scatter across the dirty ground.
She squatted and ripped out more pages, which wasn’t easy to do, since she’d slid everything into reinforced plastic sheet protectors. She shook loose the glossy magazine spreads with their beautiful tiered cakes and bridal dresses and bouquets, all in varying shades of purple.
That should be enough kindling to set the rest on fire, she thought as she rolled her thumb over the lighter.
A blue-and-orange flame flickered to life, and she couldn’t wait until it grew and decimated her former hopes and dreams.
…
“For the bridesmaid dresses, I’m thinking super-low-cut tops with short skirts,” Ford said as he flopped on his couch for the first wedding-planning meeting of what he’d been informed would be many. “Not short enough that I’ve gotta tuck my junk, but I want to show off the muscular thighs my firefighter training has given me.”
Addie, one of his very best friends and the bride-to-be, giggled.
Lexi blushed.
The three German shepherd puppies that’d been delivered to him earlier this week ran amok.
A lot of life-changing events had happened within his tight-knit group of friends last fall. His buddy Shep—Will Shepherd to most everyone else—had married Lexi, the blond debutante currently tilting her head at Ford. Then, in the middle of all the pre-wedding activities, two of his other closest friends had gone and fallen in love.
At first, Ford had hated the idea of Tucker and Addie. But once he’d seen how hard Tucker worked to win over the girl beside him, how good they were together, and—most importantly—realized the group wasn’t going to be split by their merger, he got on board.
Now they were soon to be hitched.
When Murph, known as Addison Murphy to the rest of the town, had asked him to be her bridesdude/man of honor, of course he’d said yes. He’d do most anything for his friends.
Lexi, one of the other bridesmaids—along with Addie’s sister, Alexandria, who was lucky enough to get out of wedding planning on account of living the next state over—withdrew a giant binder and a few thick magazines from her bag. She tossed them on his coffee table next to the dog toys and the remotes, where they starkly contrasted the pile of Alabama Outdoor News.
“This should get us started,” she said, notebook and a pen at the ready.
“Started?” Addie blinked at the stack. “Are we startin’ a fire? ’Cause that’s what that pile of nonsense makes me wanna do.”
Lexi sighed and crossed one leg over another, the skirt of her red dress flaring with the motion.
Like he said, he’d do anything for Murph, who’d always been one of the guys, but wedding planning tiptoed mighty close to the line. Her brown eyes were as wide as he assumed his were, though, and they’d sworn long ago to never leave a man behind.
Since he was the best dude and Addie didn’t know the first thing about being a girly girl, Lexi was the only one experienced in everything a wedding entailed, so here they were.