There were no more vendors for Camila to confirm, no more fittings to attend, no more late RSVPs to add to the guest list. Now, there was just getting Era and Seth to the altar, and nothing else mattered.
The wedding and reception were both going to be at the Phipps Conservatory, which had to be one of Camila’s favorite places in Pittsburgh. She loved walking through the gardens during the holidays, when they lit everything up and made the magical space look like even more of a fairytale. The ceremony would take place in the outside gardens, in front of a beautiful fountain, and the reception would be in one of the event halls inside. There would be passed hors d’oeuvres throughout the gardens, and Era and Seth and their families had rented the entire facility so their guests could roam each garden.
Camila, of course, was the maid of honor, and standing with her were Ivy, and Era’s younger sister, Aisha.
Seth’s brother, Owen, was the best man, and Liam and Rahul rounded out the groomsmen.
As she did up the last of the buttons on Era’s incredible gown — a lace illusion dress with billowy sleeves, a daring slit and crystal embellishments — Camila thought she might feel sad remembering when they had been in alternate roles years ago, at her wedding. But she wasn’t. Even with how her marriage had ended, and the way things were up in the air with Zach now, she felt only pure happiness for her best friend.
She still had to issue the standard permission slip, the same one Era had given her.
“Now, Era. I want you to know that no matter how many guests there are, no matter who would be mad, no matter how much all this cost — and holy hell, you guys sure spent a lot — if you don’t want to go through with this, you just let me know, and we will book it out of here and just go get cheese fries, OK?”
Era laughed. “OK. Got it. But I think I’m good.” Once the last button was done up, she turned around and faced Camila. “How do I look?”
“Oh my god,” Camila said, tears welling. “You look so beautiful.”
“Stop, you’re going to melt your eyelash glue off!”
“I’m getting it together. I am getting it together!” Camila said, fanning the tears dry with her hands.
Ivy, Aisha, and Mrs. Jones walked in, and everyone fawned and cried over how pretty Era looked. Her hair was done in micro braids that went all the way down to the small of her back, with pearl clips holding the front braids out of her face. Ivy, Aisha and Camila were all in short dresses that looked like simpler versions of Era’s, minus the crystal embellishments. But because this was Era and Seth’s wedding, there was a twist. They each wore a different color of the same dress. Aisha was in yellow, Ivy in orange, and Camila in red. Seth’s groomsmen would each have a different color tie — blue, purple, and green.
When Era first said they were going to dress the bridal party in the colors of the Infinity Stones, Camila laughed. Then she realized it hadn’t been a joke, and she refrained from all laughter throughout the rest of the wedding planning.
The photographer started snapping some candid shots, and then there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Camila shouted.
“It’s Liam. May I come in?”
Camila rushed to open the door. “Is everything OK?” she asked. “Seth isn’t getting cold feet, is he?”
“What? No, of course not. But, um, Zach is looking for you.”
Her stomach flipped. She looked over at Ivy, who was oh so casually taking her earrings off. Camila gave her a warning look.
She followed her ex-husband out the door. “Where is he?”
“He’s in the Broderie Room. He texted me a bit ago.”
Goggling at him, Camila said, “You two text?”
Liam looked insulted. “Of course not. But he had my number from the group chat. He wasn’t about to text Seth because he’s busy getting married, and he said you hadn’t answered your texts and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely ignoring him or just didn’t have your phone with you, and didn’t want to be ‘that creepy guy.’” He was scowling now, clearly put out by all this.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into all this.”
“Not the first time,” he muttered, but he was smiling.
Camila grabbed his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Liam. For everything.”
“Better not let my date see you do that,” he teased. “Go.”
* * *
The Broderie Room was a French-style garden, with colorful flower beds surrounded by perfect petal-shaped hedges curving around a central round bed. Currently, the flower beds were a mix of pompom-shaped pink dahlias and purple hydrangeas.
It felt like Zach had been waiting hours, but his watch said otherwise.
He was as nervous as if today were his own wedding day, but it was a sardonic farce of that. There was only a small chance today would end with him linked with the love of his life.
His heart started beating out of his chest to the rhythm of the clacking heels that approached. He turned and saw Camila, resplendent in red, a rose more beautiful than any in this conservatory.
“Hey, Private School,” she said. “You look good in a suit.”
“You look incredible,” he said, his voice catching in his throat.
“So … are we having this talk right now? Have you decided anything?”
“I have. I’m not taking the job,” he said. “In fact, you’re looking at the new event coordinator for Pitt’s studio arts program.”
The way Camila was blinking at him, like she didn’t understand, made him wonder if he should repeat himself. “You’re staying?” she asked, her voice tiny.
“I am,” he said. “And you don’t have to worry that I’m going to resent you or that it’s because of you, solely. I compiled all the data, I weighed all the pros and cons. I color-coded many lists. This is the better plan for me.” He closed the distance between them — not all the way, not close enough to be in her bubble. “I’m sorry for the emotional whiplash. And for just, you know, saying I’d stay before I had a plan. That was a lot for you to put your faith in.”
Hesitant, she reached for his hand. “So what about us?”
“Well, I started seeing a therapist last week. I think it’s going to be good. I’m going to see her weekly. And if we get back together, I was thinking maybe we could do couples counseling.”
“That’s a really good idea,” Camila said, smiling through tears.
“And I am going to be awesome at therapy, because I have already made a list of everything I think is wrong with me and whose fault I think it is, so that I can then figure out with my therapist why it’s actually my fault.”
She snorted. “There you go being reductive.”
Clearing his throat, he reached for a bag he’d tucked out of sight behind a plant. “I also brought you something.”
He watched her as she removed the picture frame from the bag and gasped.
“Oh Zach,” she said, admiring the framed photo of her, from the shoot they’d done at the lake. He’d done some editing to adjust the shadows, and some very minor special effects on the flora surrounding her. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“Thank you for letting me capture a good memory,” he said. Camila hugged the frame to her chest.
“So, I got used to thinking I was meant to be alone, and I made contingency plans for that,” Zach said. “So in a way, you were right about me having an exit plan. But I’m not running anymore.”
He grabbed her hand again. “I’m in love with you, Camila. There is no person who has ever or will ever make me feel the way you do. The way you feel things, the way you make your feelings known, cracks me right open. You’re the smartest, toughest, bravest person I know, and I would give up anything to keep even a corner of that big heart of yours. There is no place in the world I could travel to that could excite me as much as you.” He paused and lifted up his sleeve to show his new tattoo, underneath the first one on his inner forearm, still in a clear bandage. It was a drawing of the lake, with a couple’s clasped hands in the foreground, a bracelet with a blue stone around one of their wrists. “And if that’s an unhealthy attachment, I mean, I can address it in therapy, but I don’t think there’s any fix for it. You’re it for me, Camila. I love you.”
Camila yanked his arm toward her and looked at the image. “Oh no you did not pull some Pete Davidson shit, Zach!” she said before bursting into laughter. “This is so unhinged. And sweet. And freaking nuts!”
He couldn’t take it any more — he had to kiss her. He tasted the vanilla of her gloss and the salt of her tears streaming down her face, and he panicked for a moment that he was ruining her makeup but then he decided he didn’t care. “I love you too,” she moaned into his mouth, and he lifted her up so her legs were around him and carried her to the brick half wall at the entrance to the room.
He sank into the kiss, into her moans and fumbling touches around his suit.
“Camila,” he panted, “you have maid of honor duties.”
“Dammit!” She whimpered and took a deep breath, and he mirrored it until they both calmed down. “I’m coming over tonight,” she said.
“Come over every night,” he said. “Forever. I’ll be here.”
When they were both sure her lashes were still on and he didn’t have lipstick on his collar, they walked out of the room, holding hands. He stroked his thumb over the bracelet, certain that it wouldn’t be the last piece of jewelry of his that Camila wore.
* * *
The wedding was perfect.
It was comfortably cool, a miracle this time of year. The bridal party marched out to the typical wedding processional, but when Era appeared at the end of the aisle, the orchestra switched to the theme from the throne room scene at the end of Star Wars: A New Hope. Camila hoped the photographer got both shots — Seth choked up seeing how beautiful Era looked, and a moment later laughing when he recognized the music Era had arranged to surprise him with.
If the official photographer didn’t catch it, she was sure her man had. The guests were asked not to take photos during the ceremony, but her rebellious Zach had pulled his phone out and snapped one, then winked at her as he quickly tucked the phone away. Camila read a section of the Eleventh Doctor’s regeneration speech from Doctor Who, about all the different people we change into throughout our lives, and how we have to remember all those versions of ourselves that we’ve been. It didn’t matter how nerdy of a deep cut it was. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
During the vows, Camila locked eyes with Liam. Their marriage hadn’t lasted, but it hadn’t failed, either. He taught her about love — all the ways she was good at it, and all the ways she was bad at it, too. He helped her save her own life. She felt incredibly lucky for that, and for the life she had fought for.
There would be so much for her and Zach to work on — boundaries and honesty and trust and being their damn selves around each other. It was going to be hard. And she was excited about it. She was so in love it was almost too much.
But she could handle it.