Nope

JENNIE

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I pin the veil in place and take a step back, assessing her in the mirror. Tears sting my eyes. Chaeng and I have dreamed of our weddings since before we were in high school. Unfortunately, those dreams never involved Chaeng having a broken nose and black eyes. "You look . . . beautiful."

"I look like one of those proboscis monkeys," she wails, as tears spill over her cheeks.

Nayeon glares at me, as do Chaeng's mother, Grandma Schaefer, and the bridesmaids, Clara and Rachel. I grimace and step back while all of the women crowd around her offering comfort, more concealer, and words of assurance.

"Hey now, no tears," Nayeon says furiously, waving her hands at Chaeng's face. "You'll ruin your makeup."

Chaeng ignores Nayeon completely and turns to her mother. "Did you ever have second thoughts when you were marrying Papa?"

"It's just nerves, sweetheart," Chaeng's mom, Angela, says. "They go away."

"She's right. I almost climbed out a window on my wedding day, and it was a six-story fall to the ground." Rachel hands Chaeng a glass of champagne which she gulps down hurriedly.

"Chaeng," I say tentatively, glancing between her and the other women. "Are you having second thoughts about marrying Chan?"

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Grandma Schaefer scowls at me. She stuck pins through an awful lot of live butterflies to add them to her collection when we were kids, and I'm still not sure she isn't going to run me through with her Zimmer frame.

"No," I say defensively. "I just think she should be sure."

"Yes," Chaeng blurts, and then slaps a hand over her mouth. "No. I don't know. This day just isn't what I wanted, you know? He's so . . . opinionated, and . . . I always wanted to get married in a barn, on a vineyard."

I give her a wistful smile. "I know, but it's not where you get married, it's the who that's important. Do you love Chan?"

"Yes."

"Enough to spend the rest of your life with him?"

She sniffles. "I think so."

Shouldn't she know? I mean, really know. If I tell her that, do I become the girl who wants to break them up, or am I just doing my duty as her oldest friend?

"Well, not to put you under the pump, but I think you have about five minutes to decide," I say, taking her trembling hands in mine. "If you want to marry Chan and spend the rest of your life with him—and God knows, living with that man is not easy—then you grab your bouquet and we pretend this conversation never happened. I know things are a mess between us right now, but I feel it's my duty to say if you're even just a little unsure, I'll send Nayeon out there and the two of us can be off this island within the hour."

"You'd really do that for me, after everything?"

"I really would."

She sighs through her tears. "Is it weird that I feel threatened by what you two had?"

I smile. "I imagine it's perfectly normal. But Chan and I are history, and he was right. We were over before the two of you began. Maybe not on paper, but emotionally."

She glances at our joined hands and gives me a weak smile. "Truth time? I don't think I would be here doing what you're doing if the situation were reversed."

"I won't lie. I wasn't thrilled at the location, and you did sort of steal my groom-to-be, but Chan was my partner for a handful of years, you've been in my family since we were five years old."

She sobs. "But I've been such a bitch."

"That's true. You have." I hand her a Kleenex. "But what woman doesn't turn into a bridezilla the month before her wedding? Besides, one day I'll be able to pay you back."

She laughs and nods.

"Now, are we doing this thing, or what?" I ask.

"Yeah," she says, her voice clear and confident. "We're doing it."

"Good, because I did not relish the idea of getting fired." I sigh in relief, and blot her makeup with a clean tissue. "You ready?"

"Absolutely."

"Alright then." I hand her the bouquet, and turn to Nayeon with a nod.

When she opens the door to the bungalow, we all climb on board a decorated buggy which leads us down the walkway to the main resort. As we arrive, the groomsmen and Mr. Schaefer exit the lobby and join us.

I sneak away so I can get a peek at the ceremony decorations. The wide braided palm leaf arches lining the aisle can be seen through the trees. Rose petals scatter the pure white sand, and the guests and groom are all exactly where they need to be as the string quartet plays. Just like with all weddings I plan, a little thrill runs through me and I give a giddy clap.

When I turn around Lisa is standing behind me. Her gaze rolls over me from head to toe, taking in my hot pink bridesmaid dress. She whistles low. "You scrub up good, Pop Tart."

My reply is automatic, because I'm trying like hell not to blush. "I'd say you do too, but the stench of cheap hookers on your breath overshadows how handsome you look in a tux."

She busts out into a grin, and I can't help but smile back. "Damn, you sure know how to hit me right in the heart."

"You mean you actually have one?"

Lisa chuckles. I bite my lip and frown. Am I flirting with Manoban the Ass? What the hell is wrong with me?

She offers her arm and I glare at her, but I don't have another choice. It wouldn't look right for the best man and the maid of honor to walk down the aisle four feet apart. With a sigh, I slip my arm through hers and she leads us toward the rest of the bridal party.

"That's a nice dress. How long 'til we can get you out of it?"

"Oh, I don't know. A century, maybe two?"

"Then I guess it's a good thing I got to strip you naked and hose the puke off you last night, huh?" she says as the first strains of "Pachelbel's Canon" float through the air and the bridal party begins its procession.

"I'm not ever going to live that down, am I?" I grimace, and we fall in line behind Clara and Justin.

"Not ever."

"Well I hope you enjoyed it, because it's the first and last time you'll ever see me naked."

"You just keep telling yourself that, Pop Tart, but we both know the truth." Lisa leans in and whispers, "You want me."

"Yes," I say, meeting her azure gaze. "Like a hole in the head."

"Speaking of head . . ."

I laugh. Nayeon gives us the nod to begin walking, and I plaster a smile on my face.

I spot my parents seated amongst the guests. My father looks bored, but my mother's face? Her expression is full of pity as she blots the tears from her cheeks with a Kleenex. I roll my eyes.

I try my best to block out my mother's face and turn my attention to Chan, who's standing at the end of the aisle in his tux. He's handsome. He's everything I always wanted to see waiting for me at the altar, but he's not waiting for me. He's waiting for another woman. Now that I think about it, he was likely always waiting for another woman.

I should be just as miserable as everyone seems to want me to be, but for the first time since Chan and I broke up, I'm weightless. I dodged a bullet. Yes, all eyes are on me, and it's awkward as hell, but it doesn't matter. They don't matter, and I'm not sad. I don't feel anything. Well, I'm a little hungry, and still a teeny bit hungover.

"No regrets giving all that up?" Lisa leans in. Her scent of chestnut and sage assaults my senses. Combined with the salt, sand, and sea, it's a heady mixture. Oh God, now I'm breathing her in like a coke addict?

"Not a single one."

She stares at me, and I can't read her expression, but I think she's genuinely surprised. I don't have time to ask why because we're at the altar, and stealing the bride's thunder at her ceremony isn't in my plans today. Lisa turns one way and I go another. As my gaze meets hers again, it dawns on me that being Mrs. Lee was never what I wanted. Chan didn't drive me to distraction, or make my heart pound as if it would explode. He didn't frustrate me, excite me, or make me completely crazy the way a lover should. The way . . . oh, no.

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