Ten Years Wasted Before Spring Chapter 01

I followed a small couples account that never went viral but always felt warm.

The blogger posted little pieces of her life with her boyfriend.

They would argue over who got the last slice of a late-night pizza, then look at each other and laugh, calling each other huge dorks.

They would hold each other under the stars on some mountaintop and say they wished time could stop right there.

The account owner never showed her face, but her words still moved me.

Until the day before my wedding, when the account updated again.

[Ten years of love ends here.]

[From now on, he is her husband, and I am only her best friend.]

[This account will no longer be updated. I wish my best friend and the man she loves most a lifetime of happiness.]

The photo was of me and my fiance from behind.

…

It was a picture from our bridal appointment last week.

Brynn Harlow had been adjusting my veil while chattering away beside me.

In the mirror, she smiled even brighter than I did, as if she were the one getting married.

“Celia, you’re beautiful.” Her voice suddenly caught. “Everett Shaw hit the lottery with you.”

Everett stood a short distance away, looking down at his phone.

When he heard his name, he looked up and gave us a gentle smile.

For some reason, I thought I saw something strained inside it.

“You’re exaggerating.” I held Brynn’s hand. “If you hadn’t dragged me here to try on dresses, I probably would have bought something random.”

“Absolutely not.” Brynn’s eyes went wide. “My best friend only gets one wedding. We are not settling for just anything.”

She turned to Everett. “Right?”

Everett put away his phone and came over, sliding an arm around my shoulders as naturally as breathing.

“How could anything be random? Celia looks good in everything.”

“But this one really does suit you.”

He looked me over, his tone indulgent, his eyes full of admiration.

Before we left for the outdoor photos, Brynn secretly snapped a picture of us.

The shutter sound was on. When I turned to look at her, she only said she wanted a candid memory.

At the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, I drank until I was completely gone. Brynn took over like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When Everett texted that he was downstairs to pick me up, I was throwing up in the hotel bathroom, and Brynn was holding my hair back.

“I’ll take care of Celia,” she told Everett. “The bride needs one quiet minute. You, groom-to-be, can wait downstairs.”

She opened the suite door only wide enough to block him.

His eyes rested on Brynn, complicated and unreadable.

I leaned against the bathroom counter, drunk and blurry-eyed, watching them.

“Everett…” I mumbled his name.

Only then did he look at me. He walked over and pulled me into his arms.

“How did you drink this much?”

Brynn laughed. “Because she’s happy. She’s getting married.”

“Celia used to joke in college that if she ever got married, she’d need enough wine to survive the rehearsal dinner. Tonight she finally got her wish.”

I had said that once, while watching some rom-com with Brynn.

Back then, we’d promised to be each other’s maid of honor.

Even after I fell in love, that promise never changed.

Everett lifted me carefully and said to Brynn, “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course.” Brynn’s voice suddenly softened. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Everett. Tomorrow, she’s all yours.”

I was too drunk to catch the subtext.

Not until the middle of the night, when I woke up thirsty in the venue hotel and saw the push notification from that account.

Half-awake, head splitting from the hangover, I opened the post.

In that instant, I was sober.