The Billionaires Second Endeavour

JOY

I looked at the carved signboard hung on the door. Bridal Suite. If I didn’t say goodbye now, there wouldn’t be an appropriate time left, I reminded myself. Looking left to right, I walked in, twisting the knob with my shaking hands.

The room was large with comparatively less furniture than I’d expected—all sofas and cushions, shifted to one side of the room, making enough space for the bride to move around freely.

I was surprised to see my best friend, Aubrey Evans, alone in the room on her big day. There should’ve been hoards of people helping her with her dress. But here she was, standing in front of the mirror and her hand constantly stroking her belly—something she’d often done when she was nervous.

She was ready. The sheath wedding dress clung to her slender body, skimming down and falling straight to the floor below her hips.

“Don’t tell me you feel like shitting right now.” A smile tugged at her lips as I stepped in, smiling as brightly as I could. I teased, “That would be a disaster, given your dress.”

There is something new about Aubrey, a spark in her eyes that I haven't seen before. She laughs out while shaking her head.

"You look so pretty. I feel like crying but, fuck, I can't ruin my makeup." I rubbed the corners of my eyes dramatically to which she pinched my arm.

"I can't believe I'm doing this... I'm devastated right now."

“Oh, that’s not good.” I creased my brows. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna make the classic Runaway Bride move.”

“Pfft!” She swayed her hand over her face and added, “Are you kidding me? I’m doing this...but I’m just scared.”

Aubrey was one of those people who had always been certain about what they want in life. And being the walking mess that I was, I’d always admired that about her. But for the first time, she actually seemed perplexed.

"Well, don't be. As dramatic as it sounds you’ve loved him since the moment you met him,” I said with a hint of convivial mockery, to which she giggled.

“How quickly it’s been two years. Time really flies by.”

“Well, I’m surprised that you guys managed to fool around for that long. The looks you both used to give each other with longing and all that bullshit, used to make me want to puke... It was cute though, cute to see an ass like Jordan struggling. But I’m glad he figured his shit out."

There was a slight change visible in Aubrey’s expressions, sadness taking over her brown eyes. She looked down at her feet, her white heels.

"I just... It's the best day of my life and Dad’s not even here. He didn’t even bother to call me and congratulate me. Once.” Her voice choked and she cleared her throat. “I tried to talk him into walking me down the aisle...but he didn't answer. I don't know why I care."

"You care because he's your dad.” I knew there was nothing in the world I could’ve said to make her feel better and I felt awfully angry at myself because of that. “I don't know how to console you on this. He cares for you but he has a shitty way of showing it."

"As if he ever tries to show it! He thinks I am happy without him. How do I convince him that it's anything but?"

"You don't. He'll come around, eventually."

"Still not the same, J. Fathers are supposed to be there for their daughter's big day. It's not like he's dead"—Aubrey grunted, then shook her head—"I just want him to know that there's still time to save our relationship. We can still work on it and everything will be fine if we just try."

"What's done is done, Aubs. Don't let it ruin your day before it begins."

She nodded, projecting a fake smile. She knew it is never worked in front of me but she tried to mask her grief anyway. "You know what? You're right. I mustn't."

"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, binge-watching Friends"—I muttered with utter despair—"a loner, always and forever."

She laughed out. "That's not entirely a bad thing, to be honest."

"Wow, really insensitive way to comfort your best friend, Aubs!"

"This is my way of telling you that you need a guy."

I didn’t need a guy. The last time I checked, I was too old for silly entitlements like boyfriend-girlfriend—soon to be twenty-nine. I clicked my tongue and crossed my arms over my chest, raising a brow.

"I need a man."

Aubrey jumped with excitement and cursed at herself as she realized she was not in her casual outfits at the moment. "You do need a man. Should I play matchmaker, in case you're too tired of doing it yourself?"

My eyes widened and I pushed my palms out to Aubrey’s face. "No no, I am fine. I can’t deal with men like Jordan, which is what your choices in men look like: narcissistic, self-centred and over-possessive."

"Hey, don't hate on my husband," Aubrey drawled, pouting her lips.

"Aren't all best friends supposed to? It's a universal law." I wanted to laugh but sighed instead. “Now that you’re married, I’m sure Dad will start with matchmaking, which is worse than yours.”

“He wants to see you happy.”

I was sure he did. But at this moment, I couldn’t help but reminisce about the olden days with Aubrey, sitting in a cafe late at night after work and making fun of our bosses together.

A shrill voice followed through the door with a mild knock. "Aubrey. Joyce. May I come in?"

I unlocked the door, acknowledging the voice.