I can’t help but feel my pulse quicken as I hear the violins and flutes start up, the pre-ceremony music just as beautiful as I thought it would be. In fact, everything is as beautiful as I could have ever dreamed of. Everyone is dressed to perfection, all the women looking gorgeous in nice dresses and all the men in their suits or tuxedos. The flowers are perfect, the weather is perfect, everything is amazing. Even the sun and clouds are cooperating, with just enough puffy cotton balls in the sky to break up all the eye-watering blue without taking away from the impact of the sky and the ocean.

The procession music starts, and the priest comes down the aisle, his plump, cherubic face smiling over the top of his vestments and his Bible held to his chest reverently. After him comes John, who looks dashing and proud in his tuxedo, his face beaming as he looks forward to the next thirty minutes that will change the rest of his life.

Behind him are the flower girls, each of them looking innocent and joyful as they sprinkle white rose petals down the aisle. Their dresses fit just right, and their gold-trimmed baskets twinkle merrily as the musicians swing into the pause, building toward Mom’s big entrance.

“This is so beautiful,” Roxy whispers next to me on my left. She’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen her, and I almost can’t believe the angel sitting next to me is my little sister. “I can hardly wait!”

I nod, unable to form words, and I turn my head the other way to get a better view of the back of the church. As I do, I see Oliver, sitting on my right. He looks so handsome in his own tux, his bright eyes taking it all in, his jaw set, and he’s whispering something to himself as he takes it all in.

It’s the only flaw in this perfect day. Every time I look at him today, I feel sick. I know it’s drawing to a close. After tonight, what we have will be no longer. We don’t even have much time today. It’s Mom’s day. We’ll have the reception and party that’ll last to at least one in the morning, and we’ll spend all day with the family tomorrow. Both days, we’re going to go to sleep exhausted, and then Monday morning, we board the plane to go back to the real world again.

Who knows what’s going to happen then? I guess we could continue dating, and a part of me is hopeful we will. But there is no guarantee.

All day, I’ve had another image running in my head though. We go back to town, and I go back to work at the Beangal’s Den. He calls a few times, and maybe stops by the shop, but as we look at each other, we just know that the fantasy was just that, and our time is over. I found myself crying in the bathroom as I took a shower this morning because the image was so strong in my head.

Why couldn’t he see that I was serious last night when I said I love him? Was he just giving me a last little bit of fantasy? I gave him time to say more, but he didn’t. All I wanted was for him to say that he wants to see me at home, that we can make it work somehow. But he didn’t, and now . . .

“You okay?” Roxy asks, seeing the tears forming in my eyes. “It’s a lot, I know.”

“Yeah,” I agree quietly. “What’s taking Mom so long?”

“I dunno. I wonder if . . .”

“Hush, you two!” Grandma whispers. “I am not going to have this tarnished because my granddaughters can’t stop jabberjawing!”

Roxy gives me a smirk and I can’t help but smile a little. Grandma looks like she’s about to burst because she’s so happy. The musicians swing into The Wedding March, and we all stand as the doors in the back of the church open and Mom steps in with Aunt Rita.

“My goodness,” Roxy whispers, truly stunned, and I have to agree. Sure, we saw Mom in the dress just last night, but today, with her hair and makeup done, the lighting just right, and all the buildup . . . she’s more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her in my life.

Aunt Rita looks proud enough to burst herself in her dress, a pale apricot color that makes her look young and beautiful. They reach the altar, where Rita passes Mom over to John and steps back to her position on the side.

The preacher starts his speech, but to be honest, I stop paying attention. Instead, I think about Mom. She’s beaming, looking at John with her eyes lit up, the perfect bride. Despite whatever turmoil I’m feeling inside over my own life, I couldn’t be happier for her. She truly looks happy.

After Daddy’s death, she never crumbled. Even as Roxy and I mourned, even as the insurance money ran out and the costs mounted, she was our rock. She was the one who made sure enough of Daddy’s life insurance was set aside to pay for college for Roxy and me. She was the one who worked hard raising two daughters who were, in reality, not that easy to deal with. She sacrificed a lot for us, and though we may have never actually said it, we appreciate what she did for us and never want to disappoint her.

I was a bit worried when she met John as I saw her become what I thought was too comfortable with her new lifestyle. But over the past week, she’s reassured me. And now, I’m nothing but happy for her.

“And now,” the minister says, turning to John, “John, do you take Mary Jo to be your wife, to love and honor, to cherish and protect, in good times and bad, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” John says, sliding Mom’s ring on her finger, and my heart catches in my throat. We’re at the ultimate moment, and I can barely breathe.

The minister turns to Mom. “And do you, Mary Jo, take John to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love and cherish through sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Mom replies, sliding the ring onto John’s finger.

“The veil, please,” the minister says, and John lifts Mom’s veil. The world doubles, then trebles for a moment before I realize that I’m crying, and I hurriedly wipe at my eyes. I have to see this clearly. “You may kiss the bride.”

John and Mom kiss, and as they step back, I glance at Oliver. He’s beaming, and a thought runs through my head.

If only . . . if only.

* * *

“Let the party begin!”

Leave it to Roxy to kick the reception off right. She bursts through the doors of the reception hall already thrusting her hands up in the air, ready to turn the reception into her own personal rave if she has to.

I can’t help it, I’m caught up in her enthusiasm—everyone is—and pretty soon, I’m laughing and joking along with everyone else.

“Well, hello, there!” Brad yells as he crosses the floor. Of all the guests at the wedding or the reception, he’s easily the loudest, both in the way he talks and in the way he’s dressed. Then again, anyone wearing a bright lilac suit and pink bowtie to a wedding is going to stand out. “I was hoping to see you!”

“I think he’s talking to you,” Roxy laughs, poking Oliver, who’s just returned with some wine from the open bar. I take a sip and it’s good wine, that’s for sure. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m hot as hell right now. But I know he doesn’t have eyes for me.”

Oliver hands me my drink, chuckling. “Hello, Brad. Enjoy the wedding?”

Brad grabs the wine from Oliver’s hand before tossing it back, grinning. “Honey, I’m just looking forward to the day I get to be up there. I’m gonna be one sexy bitch!”

“I bet you are,” I retort, laughing. “You got the lucky guy all picked out yet?”

“Hmmm . . .” Brad says melodramatically as he looks around the room before rolling his eyes back to Oliver. “The best is already taken.”

I blush, but Oliver handles it with a smirk and a laugh. I think he realizes Brad’s just messing with him. Or at least I hope he is.

“Mind if I show your woman what she’s missing?” Brad asks, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, Mindy, let me show you what you’re going to be missing.”

I hand Oliver my wine, and he gives me a smile and a toast as Brad and I head out to the floor. Mom and John aren’t here yet, so the floor is still mostly empty. I’m shocked when Look Back At Me comes on, but Grandma doesn’t look upset as Trina and Killer Mike drop some of the raunchiest twerk anthems of all time.

“Come on, now, work it!” Brad says as he starts, and there’s no way in hell I can pass it up. I start dancing right next to him, dropping it as low as I can in my party dress.

I pop my hips from side to side as Brad tries to keep up. By the time the four and half minutes are up, my legs are burning but I’m laughing my ass off, Brad’s antics and dancing leaving me breathless. When the song ends and the DJ takes back over, we make our way off the floor, and just in time. The DJ starts some jazzy music, and the doors open for John and Mom to make their grand entrance.

“Well, that was good timing.” Roxy giggles as she hands me a glass. “By the way, Oliver’s eyes never left your ass the entire time you were out there.”

I don’t really have a reply, and when Oliver sits down, I try my best to keep up with everything. But I can’t—my attention keeps getting pulled back to Oliver, and I see him giving me looks too. Is that longing I see in his eyes? But if it is, why can’t he just say this isn’t over when we leave?

Up front, it’s time for the toasts, and after a hilarious one from Grandma, it’s my turn. I make my way to the front of the room where the mic is set up, trying to remember what I worked up this morning when I had a few minutes. I clear my throat, and look out at the crowd, at the cousins and second cousins and John’s family with all their kids, and my mind goes blank. “Ahh . . .”

There’s a nervous titter in the crowd and then silence, and I’m about to break down when Oliver stands up. “I know I’ve only known Mary Jo and John a week,” he says, making his way to the front of the room and putting his arm around my shoulder. His blue eyes find mine, and I feel both strength and longing flood my heart. Oliver smiles and gives me a kiss on the cheek before continuing. “I know that’s not a long time to get to know someone, but I don’t need a week. I don’t even need another minute to know that John is one of the luckiest men in the whole damn world.

“Some of you are probably thinking I’m saying this because I want a better wedding gift when Mindy and I tie the knot,” he says, earning a few laughs. “And I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind. John, I happen to think that Monaco is a great place to take a honeymoon, don’t you?”

His joke earns more laughs, and even I have to smile, putting an arm around Oliver’s waist and holding him tight. He hugs me, then continues. “But seriously, I know that you’re a lucky man, because so am I. Because any woman who was able to raise two daughters as wonderful, as beautiful, and as special as Mindy and Roxy . . . that’s a woman you want to have by your side for the rest of your life. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, they say. Well, the reverse is true. To the luckiest man in the room and to his lovely bride. May your lives be filled with happiness and joy.”

There are tears in Mom’s eyes as Oliver raises his glass, and as we make our way back to our seat, I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.”

“I meant it,” he says quietly, giving me that same heart aching look. The toasts continue, with Roxy going last, dedicating her singing instead of a normal toast. As Mom and John dance on the floor to Roxy’s version of Wonderful Tonight, I can’t help but feel my throat grow tight for what feels like the thousandth time today. Oliver sounds moved, too. “They’re going to have a good life.”

“I hope so,” I whisper, choked up. I look at Oliver and reach over, taking his hand. “Will you dance with me, next song?”

He nods, taking my hand in his, and as Roxy finishes up, we stand and go to the floor. I’m hoping for something faster, something that won’t tear my heart out anymore, but Roxy sees us, and we’re trapped as she starts up. A Thousand Years.

“Just dance,” Oliver says quietly, sensing what I’m thinking. He pulls me into his arms, and I let myself move, losing myself in his eyes as we dance. I’m scared, I’m hurting, but I let myself go, putting my arms around his neck and dancing with him. Christina Perri’s lyrics might be a total lie. I haven’t even known Oliver for a thousand hours, let alone a thousand years . . . but the heart’s the same.

And I’ll give him a thousand more, if he’ll have me. I’m just too scared to tell him, to tell him that as I look at him here on the dance floor, I want the lie to be real. That he’s better than the fictional Harold I created as a lie. That I want him, that I need him. That I love him.

“Oliver . . .” I say, trying to form the words, but before I do, there’s a tap on my shoulder, and I see Mom giving me a smile.

“May I have this dance with my daughter?” Mom asks, and Oliver nods, moving off to dance with Grandma. For the rest of the reception, we have fun, but Oliver and I never get a chance to talk until dinner arrives and we sit down. The tables have been rearranged, and Oliver and I have joined Mom, John, Roxy, and Grandma at the head table.

“You know, Oliver, you’re full of it,” Grandma says as the filet mignon is brought out. “I heard you tell Mindy that you can’t dance. You move like a cat.”

“Well, what I said was I can’t twerk as well as Brad,” Oliver says with a grin. “That’s not a lie. I didn’t say I couldn’t dance.”

“Yeah, well, you keep it up, and I’m going to have to drag you out there to see if you’re lying about that,” Roxy jokes, sipping her wine. “What a great reception.”

“This wedding has been wonderful,” Mom says. “Best night of my life . . . or second best . . . or hell, I’m just going to say it’s tied, and this one doesn’t involve me giving birth!”

“Yeah, well, after this, I can’t wait until Mindy’s and Oliver’s,” Roxy says. “I so wanna see that ceremony.”

There’s a clatter of silverware, and I look up from my plate to see Mom staring at Oliver and me, her eyes wide. She suddenly snaps her fingers, grinning ear to ear. “That’s it!”

“What?” Roxy asks, and I feel a wave of despair sweep over me.

“Mindy and Oliver! What if you got married tomorrow? This place is so wonderful!”

“What?” I ask, hoping to nip this in the bud. I can’t do this, I just can’t. “Mom, that’s not what we planned. Besides, you need to get packing after this. You’ve got a honeymoon to get ready for.”

“Nonsense!” Mom says, and I feel nauseous. I glance at Oliver, but I can see the same desperation in his eyes. We’re trapped, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to get out of this without hurting someone. “The whole family is here. It’ll be Sunday. Instead of us gathering for some stuffy lunch, we can have the wedding here. John, you can get that handled, right?”

Grandma doesn’t say a word, but the way she’s looking at me, I can see the hope in her eyes. She’s not as forward as Mom is, but she’s hoping we say yes, I can see it.

“But Oliver’s family—,” I began to protest, but Mom cuts me off, holding up her hand.

“Can have their own ceremony for you two. You’ve already told me you both wanted to have a wedding some place like here. John is more than willing to take care of it. I mean, you’ve already been engaged for a year. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”

I open my mouth to say no, but I freeze when I see the weight of everyone’s eyes on me. I hate that Mom put me in this position, but I know she’s just being Mom and she means well. I look uneasily at Oliver. He’s quiet and tight-lipped. This isn’t a game now. I can tell he’s as flustered as I am. All I can do is look in his eyes, and as I do, I keep thinking about the way he said he loved me last night and the way he looked at me while we danced today.

What am I supposed to do? In a perfect world, I’d have met Oliver a year ago, he’d have walked into the Beangal’s Den, and he’d be my actual fiancé. I wouldn’t be lying. I wouldn’t be trying to decide which is worse, a sham marriage or breaking my family’s heart.

I lick my lips, looking around the table at everyone as they all stare at me. Even though there’s conversation at the other tables, at ours, it’s quiet. I can hear my heart pounding in my chest.

Now would be the time to tell them the fucking truth. I can’t keep mounting lies on top of lies.

But looking at everyone, I feel my heart squeeze. I can just imagine the look on their faces when I fess up. God, I might actually kill Grandma by breaking her heart. Congratulations on the wedding, Mom. Your daughter’s been lying and killed Grandma because of it the same night. Sorry.

Oliver starts to try to say something. “John, Mary Jo, this place is amazing, but this is your time. You guys should have the spotlight.”

John waves it off, wiping his lips with his napkin. “If that’s what you’re worried about, forget it. Mary Jo wants to see her daughter happy. Mary Jo and I are far too old to be worried about this day being special just for us. If you want to make it special, let us give you this gift. Let me do this for you.”

I look around at the hope in their eyes. The pressure is enormous, more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. Any thought of telling them the truth dies in that moment as I look in Mom’s hopeful eyes.

“Okay,” I say, ignoring the shock that flashes in Oliver’s eyes. “We’re getting married here.”