is ready, and your flowers should be on their way up in the next thirty minutes. The weather is perfect, too, so don’t fret.” She sent a reassuring smile. “I’ve pulled off miracles before.”
She left the suite and rested against the wall after the door was shut. Keeping a bright face had been a big chore. She needed to take another dose of pills soon; the fever and chills were worsening, and her whole body ached.
Her phone dinged with a text message—the quartet she’d used before was already booked for this evening. That only left one option. If they weren’t available...
She grabbed a bottle of water, but then stopped and got a bowl of soup to get her through the day. The warm broth helped her throat, which was feeling a bit raw, and revived her a bit. Until she got the final refusal. They were two and a half hours from wedding time and had no music. Holly was not the sort of bride who would want a recording played for her walk down the aisle, either.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. She tapped in a text message to Dan, asking for his help. By the time she’d finished her soup, he’d messaged back, saying that a pianist and flautist would be there and set up by two thirty, and if guests could wait until after that to be seated, it would allow them a few minutes to warm up.
She hadn’t wanted to rely on him, but he had come through anyway. Just like he always had when they’d been together.
Her heart ached a bit thinking about it. If she’d told Dan she’d been diagnosed with cancer, he would have stood beside her. If she’d told him it had spread to her uterus and she had to have a hysterectomy, he would have held her hand and insisted it would be all right.
And then she would have had to face him every day, feeling responsible for denying him the joy of his own children. Wondering if he would grow to resent her as his siblings had children and they remained childless. If he’d regret staying with her all that time, and if he’d eventually stop loving her.
The way her dad had stopped loving her mom.
Dan was still a good man. And he had come through today, helping her out of a jam. But nothing had really changed.
Nothing at all.
DAN HAD GLIMPSED Adele briefly when she’d dropped off the boutonnieres to Pete’s suite, but she’d slipped in and out again so quickly, he hadn’t had time to speak to her. Her cheeks had looked flushed, though, and her eyes strangely bright. He supposed it might be because everything was coming down to the wire.
As he and the groom and other groomsmen stepped out of the elevator, the muted sound of piano and flute touched his ears. He let out a sigh of relief. A Calgary colleague had a daughter studying music and it had only taken one phone call and the promise of a generous last-minute fee to arrange something. They were almost to the doors of the hall when Adele came around the corner, her phone in hand.
“Whoa,” he said, reaching out and grabbing her arms to avoid a collision.
She looked up, dazed. “Oh, gosh, sorry!” Her cheeks flushed a deep pink. “I didn’t even see you...all.” She looked around at the rest of the men. “But this is perfect timing. You all know what to do, yes? And we’re just about ready to open the doors and begin seating the guests.”
“Pete and I will hang back and go in with the JP,” Dan said, letting go of her arms.
“Yes, that’s perfect.” She smiled a little. “Everything is finally coming together. The last few minutes can get a little manic, though the idea is to appear as if everything is tranquil and calm.”
The groomsmen headed for the main doors, and Pete saw someone he knew and sidestepped to say hello.
Dan looked down at her and frowned a little. Her eyes were brighter than normal, and not in a good way. He lifted his hand and touched her forehead. “Oh, my. You’re sick, aren’t you?”
She swatted his hand away. “Don’t say a word. I’m doing okay. It’s just a touch of...something.”
“The timing is horrible.”
“Don’t I know it.” Her face softened, though, when she looked up at him. “Dan, thank you for the assist earlier. The soloist is just perfect. How did you know who to call?”
He was more pleased than he should have been at her gratitude, and it didn’t settle well. “The guy who moved to Calgary to set up the satellite office, his daughter studies music. I gave him a call, she was available and brought an accompanist, and there you go.”
She smiled at him, a genuine smile. Maybe she was delirious. “You make it sound like no big thing, but it totally saved my butt today. And I’m not in the habit of it needing saving.”
“I’m coming to realize that. Anyway, I’m glad I could help.” He had to stop looking into her eyes. It made him forget how much he resented her for walking away. “Pete’s a good friend, and Holly’s a sweet person. They deserve their fairy-tale day.”
And he would not be bitter about it. Just because he’d been prepared to propose after graduation...it hardly mattered now. Clearly it wasn’t meant to be.
Her phone vibrated. “Call?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Alarm. It’s time to get you with Ms. Fraser, and time for me to head upstairs for the bride and bridesmaids.”
She turned to leave but he put a hand on her arm. “Are you really okay? Considering people are dropping like flies with this bug...”
She looked at his fingers for a moment, and then looked up into his face. For a fleeting moment, something passed between them. Not regret, not awkwardness. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear it was longing. But that didn’t make any sense. She’d left him. And never looked back.
“I’ve been drinking lots of tea. It helps.”
“Okay,” he responded. There was nothing to be done, anyway. The wedding would go on and she was stubborn enough to power through. He’d learned last night not to bother insisting on anything. Adele was far more stubborn than he remembered.
The next time he saw her, she was standing by the door of the hall, cradling an actual mug instead of a paper cup. He moved into position at the front, standing next to Pete, while the ushers took their places to his left. She took a sip and then put the mug down on a small table at the back, rolled her shoulders and gave the flautist a nod.
When the opening bars of Gounod’s Ave Maria sounded, she slipped out the door.
Then the doors opened—both sides—and the first bridesmaid entered, her hair perfect, smile wide, her navy dress rippling along the carpet runner. Then the next bridesmaid and the maid of honor, all carrying identical bouquets of mostly white blooms with silvery accents. Looking around at the twinkly trees, flowers, chairs and other preparations, Dan started to understand exactly how much planning went into a wedding day, and how Adele had taken Holly’s vision of her magical day and made it a reality. A new respect for her blossomed. She was good at this. Really good.
The music changed, shifting to
