The Summer Wedding | A Belly and Jeremiah fanfic

Chapter Forty-Eight

I dream about my wedding night. And then I wake up and am immediately hit with a reminder. My dress. The way-too-sexy dress I have to wear to my brother's wedding because I never bought a back-up.

Even if I had, Taylor wouldn't' let me wear anything else. Last night, she hung the dress up so I could look over and see it whenever I like and I knew she was already obsessed.

So really, I wouldn't have a choice either way.

Today, my brother will be a married man.

I won't be cruel and say I never expected this day to come. Steven's a great guy and he and Shayla have been together so long— it's about time really.

I'm happy for him. So, so happy.

But that doesn't mean I'm not nervous.

This day is going to bring back some pretty shitty memories of my own wedding and I'm not sure if I'm ready for that.

I remind myself, once again, that I don't have a choice about this either. This is my brother. I will suffer whatever if it means I get to celebrate his day with him.

And Shayla, too. I can't wait to finally have a sister.

"Morning!" Taylor barges into my room, far too excited, "I'm excited. Are you excited?"

"Absolutely not," I say honestly.

"Why?" her thrilled face falls at my words.

I say nothing— just indicate to the dress. I'll blame the dress if it means hiding how nervous I am to be bombarded with wedding memories.

"Babe, it's unbelievably gorgeous," she says, planting herself on my bed, "it'll make Jeremiah drool (even if he's still pissed off) and think of it as you standing up to weddings. Giving them a big 'fuck you'."

I laugh at her because she's incapable of hiding her excitement and I love that for her.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, as a best...woman for your brother, you need to tailor to his every whim today." Taylor does the honor of reminding me.

"Oh god. Why did I ever agree to this?" I throw my face into a cushion dramatically.

"Because he's your brother," she deadpans before hauling me out of bed as if I weigh next to nothing.

I pick up my phone and look at the long list of notifications, "speak of the devil."

Missed calls and messages from multiple different apps on my phone. All from Steven. The last one from only three minutes ago.

I hit call back and he picks up within two rings.

"Where are you?" Steven asks before I can say anything at all.

"Hello, good morning and congratulations. What's up?" I ask casually, simply because I know my calm tone will piss him off.

"What's up? What's— Belly, I'm getting married today," he's definitely stressed, or just pissed off at me.

"And...?"

"Why aren't you here?" He finally clarifies.

"Shit— we were supposed to meet for breakfast!"

"You forgot. Of course. She forgot," the last part aimed at someone else.

"Is someone else there?" I ask, halfway through pulling on some pants.

"Yeah, just my other groomsmen. You know, the ones that actually decided to show up." His voice is thickly doused in sarcasm.