Chapter 3 - The Food debate

The moment everyone had been waiting for finally arrived.

Alena stood facing Dominic beneath an arch of white roses, her eyes shimmering with tears she no longer tried to hide.

Dominic looked no better.

Or perhaps worse.

The groom had spent the entire morning pretending to be calm, only to completely fall apart the second Alena began reading her vows.

The guests laughed softly.

The officiant smiled knowingly.

And Clara felt her throat tighten.

She had known Alena since high school.

Before the successful career.

Before the elegant wedding.

Before life became complicated.

She remembered sleepovers, shared secrets, terrible hairstyles, and dreams about the future.

Now Alena was standing in front of the love of her life.

And somehow that felt overwhelming.

"You are my favorite person," Alena said through tears.

Dominic laughed.

Several guests sniffled.

Clara immediately looked at the ceiling.

No.

Absolutely not.

Not today.

Not in front of hundreds of people.

Not while wearing professionally applied makeup.

She blinked rapidly.

Unfortunately, her eyes were already beginning to burn.

Beside her, Axel noticed.

Without saying a word, he quietly offered a folded tissue.

Clara glanced at it.

Then at him.

Then at the tissue again.

A dangerous temptation.

"No."

Axel raised an eyebrow.

"No?"

"If I start, I won't stop."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"You seem emotional."

"I am emotional."

"So take the tissue."

"I have mascara."

Axel looked genuinely confused.

"What does mascara have to do with anything?"

Clara stared at him.

For a corporate lawyer, he seemed surprisingly uninformed.

"Everything."

"I see."

"You don't."

"I don't."

She nodded.

"Exactly."

The ceremony continued.

A few moments later came the part that finally broke everyone.

The officiant smiled.

"You may kiss the bride."

Dominic immediately pulled Alena into his arms.

The crowd erupted into applause.

Cheers echoed throughout the garden.

Somebody whistled.

Someone else cried openly.

Clara pressed her lips together.

No tears.

No mascara disaster.

She would survive this.

Barely.

Axel quietly withdrew the unused tissue.

"I'll keep this for later."

"Wise choice."

The newlyweds kissed again.

The crowd applauded louder.

Clara's eyes burned.

She stubbornly refused to cry.

------------------------------------

The ceremony was followed by what Clara considered one of humanity's most exhausting traditions.

Wedding photographs.

Endless wedding photographs.

Every possible combination of humans was assembled and rearranged.

Bride.

Groom.

Parents.

Siblings.

Friends.

Bridesmaids.

Groomsmen.

People who looked vaguely connected to the family.

At some point Clara was fairly certain they had photographed everyone who had ever spoken to Alena.

She smiled dutifully.

Again.

And again.

And again.

"Clara, closer."

The photographer waved.

Clara obeyed.

Axel stepped beside her.

Flash.

Another photo.

Another pose.

Another flash.

By the twentieth photograph, Clara was questioning her life choices.

"I hate photos," she muttered.

Axel laughed.

"You've mentioned that twice."

"I'll mention it twenty more times."

"You look fine."

"I always look awkward."

"You really don't."

Clara gave him a suspicious look.

"Are you lying?"

"No."

"Hm."

The photographer called for one final set of photographs.

This time with Alena.

Clara immediately brightened.

"Okay, this one I actually want."

She hurried toward her best friend.

Then reached into her clutch.

And froze.

"Oh no."

"What?" Alena asked.

"My phone."

"What happened?"

"It's dead."

Completely dead.

No battery.

No photographs.

No evidence.

A tragedy.

Alena laughed.

"Use someone else's."

Clara looked around.

Most people were already busy.

Then her gaze landed on Axel.

Unfortunately.

Or perhaps fortunately.

"Axel."

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow your phone?"

His expression immediately became amused.

"You trust me with wedding photos?"

"No."

"Good answer."

A moment later he handed over the phone.

Clara quickly took several photographs with Alena.

Then several more.

And perhaps several more after that.

Just to be safe.

When she finished, she returned the device.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"I need those photos."

"I figured."

"So..."

She hesitated.

"Can you send them to me?"

Axel smiled.

"Sure."

They exchanged phones.

Then numbers.

Then email addresses.

The process should have felt ordinary.

Yet somehow it didn't.

Clara wasn't entirely sure why.

Maybe because she couldn't remember the last time exchanging contact information had felt significant.

Or maybe because Axel's smile made her oddly aware of everything.

Either way, she suddenly found herself staring at his name on her screen.

Axel Winchester.

Interesting name.

Strong name.

Dangerously memorable name.

She quickly locked her phone.

The reception began shortly afterward.

Music filled the ballroom.

Guests mingled.

Champagne flowed freely.

People gathered into familiar groups.

And Clara realized something unfortunate.

She knew almost nobody.

Most of Alena's friends from college were absent.

Her work colleagues had their own circles.

The city itself was unfamiliar.

For the first time all day, she felt slightly alone.

Not unhappy.

Just disconnected.

She stood near the dessert table and contemplated stealing a strawberry tart when a familiar voice appeared beside her.

"Planning a crime?"

Clara turned.

Axel.

Again.

She smiled despite herself.

"Possibly."

"I knew it."

"Depends on whether this counts as theft."

Axel glanced at the dessert.

"Definitely theft."

"Then I regret nothing."

He laughed.

And just like that, the awkwardness disappeared.

They began talking.

About the wedding.

About Dominic and Alena.

About travel.

About work.

Then suddenly—

"Wait."

Axel blinked.

"You're a lawyer?"

Clara nodded.

"Family law."

His eyes widened.

"No way."

"What?"

"I'm a lawyer too."

Now it was Clara's turn to stare.

"What kind?"

"Corporate."

A beat of silence.

Then both laughed.

Of course.

Of course the one person she naturally connected with at a wedding would also be a lawyer.

That explained far too much.

"That explains your arguments," Clara said.

"My arguments?"

"You argue like a contract."

"You criticize like a cross-examination."

"Occupational hazard."

"Same."

They smiled.

The conversation flowed effortlessly afterward.

Soon they found themselves debating food.

A surprisingly serious topic.

"Favorite fruit?" Axel asked.

"Strawberries."

"Predictable."

Clara gasped.

"Excuse me?"

"You look like someone who likes strawberries."

"What does that even mean?"

"I don't know."

"That's ridiculous."

Axel shrugged.

"My favorite is melon."

Clara stared.

"Melon?"

"What's wrong with melon?"

"Nothing."

There was definitely something wrong with melon.

"And avocado," Axel added.

Clara looked horrified.

"That's worse."

"Avocado is excellent."

"It tastes like responsibility."

Axel nearly choked laughing.

"What does that mean?"

"It means adults pretend to enjoy it."

"That's outrageous."

"It's true."

"No."

"Yes."

He shook his head.

"Chocolate."

Clara pointed at him.

"Finally. A correct answer."

"See? We agree on something."

"Only one thing."

"Progress."

Their debate continued.

Coffee.

Wine.

Desserts.

Pastries.

Ice cream.

Every answer somehow led to another argument.

And every argument somehow led to more laughter.

At one point Clara realized nearly an hour had passed.

She hadn't checked her phone.

Hadn't looked at the clock.

Hadn't even noticed.

Which was unusual.

Because Clara Ashford noticed everything.

Across the ballroom, Alena watched them and smiled knowingly.

Dominic followed her gaze.

"Oh."

Alena nodded.

"Oh."

Neither bride nor groom said another word.

They didn't need to.

Because from across the room, it was already obvious.

The bottle-green dress and the bottle-green tie had been a disaster.

But meeting each other?

That might turn out to be the best thing that happened all day.