Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3)

Shopaholic Ties the Knot (Shopaholic #3) Page 131

Finally, I start to relax. To savor it.

As I take each step, I feel as though I’m a prima ballerina doing the perfect arabesque at Covent Garden. Or a movie star arriving at the Oscars. Music playing, everyone looking at me, jewels in my hair and the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn. I know I will never experience anything like this again in my life. Never. As I reach the top of the aisle, I slow my pace right down, breathing in the atmosphere, taking in the trees and the flowers and the wonderful scent. Trying to impress every detail on my mind. Relishing every magical second.

I reach Luke’s side and hand my bouquet to Erin. I smile warmly at Gary, Luke’s new best man — then take Luke’s hand. He gives a little squeeze, and I squeeze it back.

And here’s Michael stepping forward, wearing a dark, vaguely clerical-looking suit.

He gives me a tiny, conspiratorial smile, then takes a deep breath and addresses the congregation.

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here together to witness the love between two people. We are here to watch them pledging their love for each other. And to join with them in celebrating the joy of their sharing of that love. God blesses all who love, and God will certainly bless Luke and Becky today as they exchange their vows.”

He turns to me, and I can hear the rustling behind me as people try to get a good view.

“Do you, Rebecca, love Luke?” he says. “Do you pledge yourself to him for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you put your trust in him now and forever?”

“I do,” I say, unable to stop a tiny tremor in my voice.

“Do you, Luke, love Rebecca? Do you pledge yourself to her for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you put your trust in her now and forever?”

“Yes,” says Luke firmly. “I do.”

“May God bless Luke and Becky and may they have happiness always.” Michael pauses and looks around the room, as though daring anyone to argue with him, and my fingers tighten around Luke’s. “May they know the joy of a shared understanding, the delight of a growing love, and the warmth of an everlasting friendship. Now let us applaud the happy couple.” He smiles at Luke. “You may kiss the bride.”

As Luke bends to kiss me, Michael determinedly begins to clap. There’s a slightly uncertain pause… then a smattering of people join in, and soon the whole room is applauding.

Gary is murmuring something in Luke’s ear, and he turns to me, looking puzzled.

“What about the ring?”

“Don’t mention the ring,” I say through a fixed smile.

My heart is beating so hard, I can barely breathe. I keep waiting for someone to stand up. For someone to say, “Hang on a minute…”

But no one does. No one says anything.

It’s worked.

I meet Michael’s eye for an instant — then look away before anyone notices. I can’t relax yet. Not quite yet.

The photographer comes forward and I take Luke’s arm firmly in mine, and Erin gives me my bouquet, wiping away her tears as she does so.

“That was such a beautiful ceremony!” she says. “The bit about the warmth of an everlasting friendship really got to me. You know, because that’s all I want.” She clasps my bouquet to her chest. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Well, you know, I’m sure you’ll find it,” I say, and give her a hug. “I know you will.”

“Excuse me, miss?” says the photographer. “If I could just get the bride and groom…”

Erin gives me my flowers and ducks out of the way, and I adopt my most radiant, newlywed expression.

“But, Becky,” Luke says. “Gary says—”

“Take the ring from Gary,” I say without moving my head. “Say you’re really embarrassed that it got left out, and we’ll do it later.”

Some guests have come forward to take photographs, and I rest my head on Luke’s shoulder and smile happily at them.

“Something else is wrong,” Luke is saying. “Michael didn’t proclaim us husband and wife. And don’t we have to sign something?”

“Sssshh!” There’s a bright flash, and we both blink.

“Becky, what’s going on?” He pulls me round to face him. “Are we married?”

“That’s a good shot!” says the photographer. “Stay like that.”

“Are we married?” Luke’s eyes scan my face intently.

“Well… OK,” I say reluctantly. “As it happens, we’re not.”

There’s another blinding flash. When my eyes focus again, Luke’s gazing at me incredulously. “We’re not married?”