The Vows We Fake

Bellmare Estate reminded me of Zane.

Rosewater. Honeysuckle. Old memories. Face to face with the gates that led into the Estate, those are the scents that welcomed me. The iron gates groaned open, leading to a vault of memories I had tried so hard to suppress, memories of Zane and I engaged with dreams of getting married in this same estate. Wedding dress shopping with Rosa, my ex-best friend. Rehearsing our vows, our dance.

I let out a breath and stepped through the gates anyway.

“Damn,” Leah, my assistant, whistled. Her baby blue eyes widened in amazement. “Some people are rich!”

Rich didn’t cover it. Bellmare Estate was magnificent, a dream carved into the hills. There were white stone archways framed by climbing jasmine, a beautiful courtyard that opened into a blue, shining lake. It had not changed in the five years since I had been here. It was the venue we had once dreamed of for our wedding, me and Zane. The one I had circled in bridal magazines. The one I had whispered about in nights while wrapped up in his arms. The one I had fantasized so much about.

Despite the beauty, the estate had the kind of silence that pulled at my heart.

My sober thoughts must’ve been evident in my expression, for Leah side-eyed me. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Perfect,” I replied. The lie was easy.

“You sure? Your portfolio is…”

I glanced down to the portfolio in my left hand. I turned it around, right side up, cleverly hiding my fingers behind it. I hoped Leah won’t notice that they were trembling. “I’m a bit nervous,” I admitted. “But it’s just a wedding.”

It wasn’t just a wedding.

My stomach had been in knots since the offer first came. I had planned luxury weddings before, but this one felt different. The premise was anxiety inducing. The contract had arrived anonymously. High profile wedding. No in-person meetings until after the contract was signed. No names. Just an outrageous offer (triple the pay) and one stipulation: total discretion; do not ask questions.

The only thing I knew was this venue, which was also where I would meet with of the client to talk things over with because I needed clarity on the contract. Bellmare Estate, the same venue that I had picked five years ago for my wedding.

And now, here I was. Not as a bride. Not even part of the guest list. As a wedding planner.

It had to be a coincidence, because there was no way…

My heart was beating rapidly inside my cream blouse. I was reviewing the facts over again. Anonymous client. No negotiations. First meeting at the venue itself. I should have said no. But the client paid triple the normal price upfront. And I had loads of debt to clear.

We crossed through the courtyard, the click of Leah’s heels echoing across the marble floor.  A middle-aged, salt-and-pepper haired man in a grey suit approached us.

“Ms. Ibe,” he greeted stiffly. He didn’t acknowledge Leah. “I’m Mr. Wade. I manage client interests on behalf of the groom.”

I extended my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He didn’t take it.

Leah brows shot up to her hairline.

“Follow me,” Mr. Wade said, already turning on his heel. “My client is waiting for you.”

“The groom is here?” I was confused. “I’d assumed he wouldn’t be here for the first meeting.”

“You wouldn’t want him to be part of planning his own wedding?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly at his arrogant tone. After all, the contract stated that neither the groom nor the bride would be around for the first meeting.

The double doors of the main building creaked as Mr. Wade pushed them open. And there he was.

Tall, really tall, too sharply dressed for someone who once loved to dance barefoot in my kitchen. A charcoal suit clung to his body. His posture was stiff. He was examining the floral samples laid out on the table, so his back was to me. The sunlight cut across his silhouette.

I knew that silhouette, hell, I knew him. He didn’t even have to turn for me to know it was him.

Zane Blackwood. My ex-fiancé.

What was he doing here?!

I felt the world tilt beneath my feet. The conference room blurred around the edges. Blood rushing behind my eyes distorted my view. I told myself it wasn’t real. Perhaps the lack of sleep had gotten to me. Perhaps I was crazy.  But there he was.

Zane Blackwood stood by the table, his back partially turned away from the door. He was taller than I remembered. Sharper. Colder. His hair was even darker, nearly black instead of dark brown.

He turned, and I stopped breathing.

Five years hadn’t softened him, hadn’t dulled him. His face was more chiseled now, mouth flatter. His suit molded perfectly to his frame. And his eyes, God, those dark eyes! His gaze swept across the room. He took in Leah first. Then Mr. Wade. Finally, he looked at me. My heart thrummed in my chest. I stared right back at him, bracing myself for a flicker of recognition. Shock. Surprise. Anger. Anything.

Nothing. He looked through me like I was invisible.

I stood, frozen. I couldn’t make my legs move. The last time we had seen was five years ago, when I destroyed everything. And for years, I had dreaded our reunion. Would he allow me to explain? Apologize? Did he still hate me? In my hearts of hearts, I wanted to meet with him again, but not like this.

I would’ve preferred a reaction from him. A sign that this man who once loved me hadn’t blotted me out completely from his memory. This impassiveness… it hurt more than anything.

Mr. Wade stepped forward. “Mr. Blackwood,” he greeted. “Glad you could make time in your schedule.”

Zane gave him a short nod. “Let’s make it quick. I’m only here because the bride insisted.”

The realization suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart felt ripped into pieces. My mouth fell open. “You're the groom?”