On the Cook Islands, hotels offered elopement packages that took care of every need a couple might have. You could book everything online, then step off the plane to an island paradise where people were ready to cater to your every whim.

“Welcome!” A woman with a toothy grin, caramel-coloured skin and bleached-blonde hair introduced herself as our wedding planner. “We are so lucky to have you. The sun is here in your honour after terrible rains these past few days. Come.” She didn’t relax her smile once. “There is much to do before this evening’s ceremony.”

Alesha and I were whisked away in one direction, the grooms in the other. Jasmine followed us, as did Abbot. It’s like they think we might run.

“Everything you asked for is here,” the wedding planner said, gesturing around the room. There were dresses in garment bags, along with facilities for complete hair and make-up. “There is also complimentary champagne.” She offered us all a glass, which I drained rather rapidly as a team of women filed in the room. “And here are your helpers.”

I’d known this was happening, knew full well that we had made this trip in order to get married. But seeing those dresses and actually getting ready for our nuptials, was a completely different story. Nervous butterflies did an insane dance throughout my entire abdomen. Suddenly this was all too real. I needed more alcohol.

Champagne was now my favourite. Every time I emptied my glass, a lovely Polynesian woman would refill it for me while another piled my long blonde hair on top of my head and a third pinned flowers inside the coils. There was one more applying my make-up while the wedding planner gave orders to the two teams.

Alesha was talking a mile a minute; I don’t think she’d even sipped from her glass. “This feels like a fairy tale, don’t you think? Whisked away to an island to get married, best friends marrying brothers. You can’t make this stuff up and have it be this perfect.”

Jasmine smiled as if she was being polite while a snot-nosed child attempted a violin concerto when they were barely capable of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”.

For the most part, I sat silently, biting my tongue. There was no point in specifying the flaws in this grand fairy tale of hers. Not only were Jasmine and Abbot watching on, but Alesha quite simply didn’t seem to care. A gorgeous man wanted to marry her. It was all of her adolescent dreams come true. What they did for a job and the reasons we were there seemed inconsequential, so I kept my lips sealed and let her have her moment, promising myself that I’d be there to hold her when the reality of this new life came crashing down. Things would never be the same again.

“Maybe we’ll have kids together too, Holland,” Alesha chatted on. “We could live next door to each other and they could grow up just like we did.”

“Sure, Leesha,” I murmured, staring into my glass. “Whatever you want.”

I’d been drinking too fast, stressing too much. My mind started swimming from all the champagne, and I was losing my focus. Alesha’s voice became a distant hum. Numbness was only a few more drinks away. I closed my eyes and drained my glass, holding it out to be refilled as I blew out my breath. “Thank you,” I said to my server as I took another calming sip. I can do this. I can marry a thief.

“You might want to lay off the champagne a little, Holland.” My silence would’ve continued had Jasmine not decided to intervene and ruin my plans for being so drunk I could barely stand at my wedding.

“I’m fine,” I retorted.

With a cool smile, she reached out to take the glass I had clutched between my fingers. “We don’t want you falling over at the altar.”

“Ah, uh, uh,” I said, pulling it from her reach. “This is my potion of courage. Didn’t you hear? This is a fairy tale.” I opened my eyes wide, saying the words in an exaggerated whisper.

“You’re drunk,” she stated, catching my arm and forcing the glass out of my grip.

“No!” I wrestled her for it, and the golden liquid splashed up and went all over both of our hands.

“Now look what you’ve done.” She pursed her lips, looking for something to clean herself up while I let my tongue do the work for me, licking at my hands like a kitten.

My head feels so fuzzy.

“Get her some food or something, will you?” Jasmine instructed Abbot with a sigh. “She’s a mess.”

Abbot left the room and Jasmine glared at me for a long moment. Like the grown-up I was, I poked my tongue out at her.

“Give us the room,” she commanded, and just like that, all of the helpers vanished from their stations, Alesha staying put. “What is wrong with you?” she hissed, leaning over me, her pale eyes freaking me the fuck out in my drunken state. She reminded me of a wraith.

“I… I’m getting ready for—hic—my wedding. Itsh going to be beaut-ful,” I slurred, waving my arms to punctuate my speech, or perhaps conduct an orchestra, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing. How much have I had to drink? I squinted over to the table to find the champagne bottle turned upside down in the ice bucket. Oh, all of it. Whoops.

“You might not be taking this seriously, Holland, but I assure you, the rest of us are. And if you ruin my son’s wedding, I will—”

“Ruin me!” I stuck my tongue between my lips and blew a raspberry. “I know. I know. You’ll kill me and everyone I care about, then put us all in a ditch for the dingoes to eat us.” I cackled at that, for some reason finding the whole thing absolutely hilarious. Drunk Holland was not a clever Holland at all. Despite the fact that there was steam coming out of Jasmine’s ears and Alesha was sitting across the room in abject silence, I continued anyway. “You don’t scare me, Jasmine. If you hurt me, your son is gonna hate you. Because his dick loves my—”

I didn’t get to finish—which was just as well considering where that was going—because the back of a hand clapped against the side of my face with such force that it sent my head spinning. Even through the numbing effects of the alcohol, my jaw hurt.

“Don’t test me,” Jasmine spat, pointing in my face.

“Or what?” I laughed as I tasted blood, then spat some down my chin, smiling red. I really was a terrible drunk. It was why I was normally careful not to drink more than I knew I could tolerate. But forced weddings were the exception to my rule.

“Holland,” Alesha interjected, her voice sounding like that nervous thing I’d grown up with. I was wondering where she’d gone. “Let’s just get ready, OK? We’re about to become sisters.” She smiled, trying to spin this in the most positive light as she moved closer and kneeled in front of me. She was already wearing her dress, a simple white slip that fell to the floor and made her look like an angel. Holding up a napkin, she wiped it across my chin, cleaning up the dripping blood before murmuring, “We’re going to be OK. Don’t fall apart on me now. I can’t do this without you.” It was then that I saw it, the fear in her eyes. She was as freaked out over this as I was; she was just a better actress. She’s worked out how to play the game—I haven’t even worked out there are rules to follow—that’s how she’s coping. Somehow, that realisation gave me comfort.

“Oh, Leesh,” I whispered, flinging my arms around her and holding on to her tight. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

She gripped me by the shoulders and held me at arm’s length. “Everything is going to be OK,” she repeated. “We just need to get you sobered up. Maybe some coffee?” She looked past me to where I knew Jasmine was standing, probably glaring down at me with disdain.

“I’ll call for it,” she said. “Abbot should be back shortly with some food.”

“See? It’s going to be fine,” Alesha whispered, brushing at the stray strands of hair the slap had knocked loose. “You need to be strong, Holl. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s just the beginning of a different one.”

Lifting my head, I looked at myself in the mirror and took a steadying breath. “Well, someone’s gonna have to get those make-up girls back in here to add some blush to this side to balance things out.” I was sporting a rather solid welt where Jasmine had backhanded me.

Alesha laughed a little. “Or I could slap you on the other side, knock some sense into that stubborn head of yours.”

With a little laugh, I leaned forwards and pressed my forehead against hers. “I might need it,” I whispered before adding, “Don’t leave me again, Leesh.”

“Shhh,” she returned, pulling back and meeting my eyes. “They’re always listening. Just focus on the good. Focus on how you feel about Nate.” Then she stood, and someone thrust a cup of coffee and half a sandwich in my face. I was made to finish both before anyone would continue.

I was suddenly very sober.

Just as I slipped my foot into the second sandal, there was a knock at the door.

“The grooms are growing anxious,” Kristian informed us, looking like a feast for the eyes in a pair of fawn pants and a white linen shirt with a purple orchid pinned to the pocket. “There, uh, might be some heavy drinking involved too.” He looked a little sheepish adding that last part.

“You can’t be serious,” Jasmine snapped, excusing herself while telling the rest of us to stay put.

Kristian stepped into the room and let out a low whistle. “Looking good, ladies.”

I smiled at him as I straightened up, both sandals now on my feet. I was wearing a cream wraparound dress that had pink printed flowers on it that matched the flowers in my hair. I felt like a movie star as it flowed around my body. I also felt like shit because as the alcohol wore off, my jaw ached, along with my brain.

“Are they both drunk or just one?” Alesha asked, slipping her earrings in.

Kristian took her in appreciatively. He licked his lips, then wiped a hand over his face. “Both.”

“Champagne?” I asked, fighting a smile while feeling glad I wasn’t the only one who took in a little too much liquid courage.

“And rum.” He grinned, and I noticed he had a slight dimple. Cute.

My smile only broadened. “Can they stand up?”

“They’ll be fine.”

“Cartwrights can hold their liquor,” Abbot added, crossing his arms as he gave me a pointed look.

“You’re talking like I threw up everywhere,” I retorted.

“What did happen to you?” Kristian asked. “Half your face is swollen.”

When my eyes met Abbot’s, I didn’t find warning in them, so I didn’t think he’d hold it against me if I told the truth. But I chose to lie anyway. Snitches get stitches. “Too much champagne. I slipped.”

By the way he and Abbot looked at each other then stood up a little straighter, I knew Kristian didn’t believe me.

“Should we go?” Alesha piped up, grabbing our matching bouquets and handing mine to me. “The longer we stand around here, the drunker they’ll be, right? Might as well get this done before anyone else falls over.” With her lips pursed, she aimed that last part at me.

“Lead the way?” I said to Kristian at the door.

He held his arm out for me to take. “My pleasure, gorgeous. Let’s get you and your golden cunt hitched.”

My eyes widened at the crass comment, but I didn’t dare question the reason for it. I already knew what he meant.