JOY'S POV

I looked at the door with the signboard ‘Bridal Suite’ on it. Usually, I stayed far away from the drama that went on inside, with a bunch of people storming around, pestering the bride and all that. But today was different. The bride behind the door wasn’t just anybody.

Taking a deep breath, I twisted the knob with my shaking hands and pushed the door open. The room was large, with comparatively less furniture than I had expected—everything clustered in one corner of the room.

Aubrey was standing in front of the mirror and constantly stroking her belly with her hands—something she often did when nervous. There should’ve been hoards of people helping her. But here she was all alone, in the sheath wedding dress that clung to her slender body, skimming down and falling straight to the floor below her hips.

“Don’t tell me you need to shit right now.” A smile tugged at her lips as she noticed me. I closed the door behind me while teasing, “Do you know how hard it’ll be to lift your dress?”

My eyes finally met Aubrey’s hazel ones, and I noticed a spark in her eyes, one that I had never seen before. It was hard to say what it was, but I saw it as what true happiness looked like. Or being madly in love.

"You look so pretty,” I said, dramatically rubbing the corner of my eyes. “But damn, I can't ruin my mascara."

She pinched my arm and let out a low laugh. "Thanks for coming. I’ve been waiting for you. I'm devastated right now."

“Oh, that’s not good.” I creased my brows. “If you’re planning on making the classic Runaway Bride move, you have to be straight about it, because there’s no way in hell I am running in this dress.”

“Pfft!” She swayed her hand before her face and said, “I won’t run. But I’m having second thoughts.”

“Yeah, running is what comes after those very thoughts.”

“No, just use your philosophies and convince me I’m doing the right thing.”

Aubrey had always been certain about her life in a way I could never be. I, on the other hand, was a walking mess. But for the first time today, it was Aubrey who was perplexed.

"You are doing the right thing, Aubs. I would tell you to your face if you weren’t. As dramatic as it sounds, you loved him from the moment you met him,” I said.

She nodded. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe that it’s been two years since that one incident.”

“Thanks to me, of course. I’m surprised you guys fooled around for this long. The looks you both gave each other, filled with longing and all that bullshit, used to make me want to puke." I made a fake retching sound, and she scrunched her face. "It was cute, though, to see an ass like Jordan struggling to figure his shit out."

She smiled. “I know I’ll be happy with him. I just . . .” There was a slight change visible in Aubrey’s expressions. Sadness took over her brown eyes, and she looked down at her feet, her white heels.

“You aren’t actually confused about Jordan, are you?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re thinking about Bill.”

"It's the best day of my life, Joy, and he’s my dad. I want him to be here for me, but at the same time, I’m scared. What if I bring him out of rehab and he runs away? Or spirals back into the same shit?” Her voice choked, and she coughed. “Maybe I should just stop thinking about him."

"You love him, despite all the things he has done, and it’s okay.” There was nothing in the world I could’ve said to make her feel better, and that made me furious at myself. “No one blames Bill for what happened. He's been through a really dark phase and when he comes back, he’ll be the person we used to know."

“I just want him to be better.”

“He’ll be alright. He’s Bill Evans.” Aubrey finally smiled again, and I mentally danced in victory. "You know, I’m more worried about myself. You'll be off with your husband while I'll be here in my PJs every weekend, watching Friends on repeat."

"That's not entirely a bad thing, to be honest," she said, laughing at my misery. "But you wouldn’t have to be alone if you could find a guy."

I didn’t need a guy. Clicking my tongue, I corrected, "I need a man."

Aubrey nodded in excitement. “Well, a man wouldn’t magically appear in your bedroom. Should I play matchmaker, in case you're too tired of doing it yourself?"

I immediately pushed my palms out to Aubrey’s face, raising my brown in defence. "No, no, I am fine. I can’t deal with men like Jordan, which is what your choice of men look like: narcissistic, self-centred and over-possessive." Sighing, I went on, “Now that you’re married, I’m sure Dad will start with his matchmaking, which is way worse.”

“He wants to see you happy.”

“I know. But I’m not ready.”

“You’re twenty-nine,” she pointed out.

“So are you.”

A shrill voice followed through the door, followed by a mild knock. "Aubrey. Joyce. Are you both in there?"

Recognising the voice, I turned around, but Aubrey quickly held my hand and said, “We’re not done talking about this.”

I gave an obedient nod and unlocked the door. It was Cassandra, Jordan's mother, standing with a warm smile, her body draped in an elegant peach-coloured gown and her golden hair braided to the side. I moved aside to let her in.

There was everything majestic about this woman. She was in her early fifties, yet her beauty was beyond compare. The grace with which she walked could hypnotise anyone. Jordan and his siblings were beautiful too, credit to not only Cassy but to their father as well. But Jordan was the only one who loved flaunting it openly with his constant narcissism.

“I have been waiting to see you since morning, Aubrey.” The graveness in Cassy’s voice that had been there toward Aubrey for the longest time had finally faded. She too had realised that Aubrey was good for Jordan.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, of course not. I wanted to give you something.” Cassy gave me a side glance before jerking her head toward the door.

I whirled around, only to catch a familiar figure walking in, his hands inside the pocket of his black pants. My jaw dropped because I had not expected this.

It was none other than Bill Evans, Aubrey’s dad, dressed in a black tuxedo. He had combed his black and grey hairs to the side. He flashed a smile to me and walked past me, his eyes focused on his daughter.

My chest swelled with relief, and my eyes pooled with tears. He looked so much better than the last time I had seen him, which had been a day or two before he had left for rehab. I turned back and observed the beautiful moment while slowly stepping back.

Bill pulled Aubrey into a tight hug. Aubrey’s eyes were wide with shock, but no one in this room was happier than her, and I was happy for her. Her eyes met mine, and I returned a small nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind me.

Now the wedding would be better than planned.

***

VINCE'S POV

I stared at myself in the mirror. My black hair was gelled and pushed back, the collar of my white shirt was pinned, and the expensive Hackett tuxedo was properly arranged over my body. All that was left was a bow tie to complete the look.

"Are you nervous?" I asked Jordan, the tall figure beside me with dirty blonde hair and an overly excited look on his face.

Perfection is everything—had always been our motto, although sometimes we both wished otherwise.

"Shouldn't I be? I am about to get married to the woman I love."

“You’re getting a fucking leash is what you’re doing,” I mocked.

I worried about him making the wrong decision or taking steps hastily. People—women loved men like us, but only for the money and the luxury life with us offered. We’d been through situations where our hearts couldn’t choose between our own wellbeing and the toxic love these women brought.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked again. The seventh time, probably.

Jordan let out a long exhale to calm himself before putting on a phlegmatic smile and answered, "I’ve never been so damn sure about anything my entire life, Vi." His answer was confident, leaving me with no doubts. "Aubrey is not like other women. She doesn’t care about who I am or the money I have.”

“But you want to coddle her with it?”

He shrugged. “What else have I been earning for, if not to provide for my family?” He patted my shoulders. “Now it’s your turn to find a woman for yourself."

I almost choked on the air. I twisted my head toward Jordan and raised a brow.

He knew why this topic knocked the air out of my lungs. I was okay with being a sex debauched man, but not okay with a ring on my finger and a leash around my neck.

"You’re kidding, right? Not everybody has a good love fortune like you, pal. Me? I have tested mine. Even the fucking universe has stated I should stay away from that atrocity people call love."

I laughed, hoping Jordan would too, but he remained silent. "You know it would be better for you and your—"

I cleared my throat as loudly as possible before he could use his chief weapon of emotional torture against me. "Jordy, it’s your wedding. Let's not talk about my life and, for once, focus on yours instead. I’d grant you the honour of lecturing me some other day."

We headed out laughing among ourselves and took our positions on the stage, with me behind Jordan as his best man.

I was too caught up in the moment with a reverie of emotions surging through me at the thought of my best friend getting screwed to a woman for his entire life. My eyes suddenly fell on a woman hovering around the aisle. Her movements were elegant, yet too hasty to be missed.

But that was not why I noticed her. There was something awfully familiar about her that reminded me of someone I knew long ago. I keenly watched her take a seat at the bride’s side.

Thinking Jordan might know her, I leaned in and asked, "Who's that woman in the front row at Aubrey’s side?"

"The one in the maroon dress?” Seeing me nod, he answered, “That’s Joyce, Aubrey's best friend, and a huge pain in my ass."

My jaw tightened. The realisation hit me like a fucking storm as her name rang in my ears. She didn’t just remind me of someone I knew. She was that someone. With devilishly alluring eyes—green with flecks of gold in them.

But I didn’t know her as Joyce. I knew her as the woman who had haunted my dreams for years since I met her, the woman who loved living up to the name she had introduced herself with—Joy.