Christmas came and went, Adela and Abram celebrating it for the first time. Bethany had a wonderful time explaining the meaning behind it and showing Adela how to decorate a tree. She even convinced Jet to assemble one in his beautiful new home which was still something of a novelty.

  “Maybe I should have Rob draw up some plans for Befest and get you to spend the night…” Bastian winked, winding fairy lights onto a postal tube to keep them from getting tangled. House of Figs was empty except for those who lived and worked in it. After the glorious chaos of Christmas, Aunt Jo always closed the café for the week between Christmas and New Year and one of the jobs to do was to remove all the decorations and pack them away.

  “I’ve already spent the night in Befest,” Bethany retorted as they pulled all the baubles from the tree, sorting them into big, medium and small boxes, “and I am never letting that wretched incantation out of my head again. I’d write it down but it’s too dangerous. What if someone reads it?”

  “Besides,” Jo unwound a green bough from the banister as Rob and Annie unhooked the ones around the upper balcony, “Befest is beautiful just as it is.”

  “And a display home from the real world would look awful in a werewolf fortress.”

  “I am sure Rob could use his new found passion for architecture to imagine something appropriately werewolf-ish.” Bastian argued.

  “I am happy to do so,” Rob replied surprisingly, “however, you will have to make it happen without the incantation. I am also not certain how the werewolves would feel about my presence in Befest.”

  “True,” Bastian sighed, “humans I can get away with explaining. But you would attract more attention than I care to explain.”

  “When will House of Figs reopen in the New Year?” Faelan asked, cleaning the glass of his dessert cabinet until it shone with a lustrous gleam.

  “Not for another week,” Jo took her phone out and tapped on the calendar, “it’s our one solid holiday a year and during January, things are a bit slow. There’s no need to rush into opening the café proper…”

  “But the coffee window needs manning?” Rafael asked.

  “I hate to impose…”

  “It’s fine. Between Eustace and myself, we can take turns.”

  Bethany listened with half an ear, her phone pinging. She drew it out and read the message. It was Jet. He’d found out before Christmas that he had go to the city for training the first week of January. It was a three day intensive and it was a day on the train there and one to come back. He was about an hour away.

  “…can’t let the caffeine addicts go without their hit for too long. They’ll miss it.”

  “Huh?” Bethany looked up. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Not even remotely.” Rafael said with a touch of his old dryness.

  “Someone’s got ‘missing’ on the brain.” Bastian teased.

  “How long has Jet been gone?”

  “Almost a week.” She glanced around. “Would you mind if I left the rest to you? I’d like to be there when he comes home.”

  “I think we’ve got enough hands between us.” Eustace lifted a box. “Go. We’re good.”

  Bethany nodded and headed to the door. She was halfway down the path when she heard her name being called and turned to see Aunt Jo following her.

  “Did I forget something?”

  Jo opened her mouth then paused. “I…I wanted to check where you’re at…with Jet.”

  Bethany immediately understood. “Nothing’s happened. I mean, you know, apart from dating, remodelling his entire house, cooking dinner…” She felt heat in her cheeks. “Aunt Jo, I’m not a virgin…”

  “Is that a defence or a regret?”

  Bethany sighed. “Both I guess.” She swallowed. “You can always wait but you can’t go back in time.” She said softly. “We’re not rushing into anything.”

  “You’re not but have you talked to Jet about it?”

  She gave a small shrug. “He acts awkward sometimes when he kisses me. He’s not rushing either.”

  Aunt Jo nodded. “Alright. You’re an adult and you can make your own decisions…just remember to be responsible and not just be in the moment…but think about the future too.”

  “We will.” Bethany promised. “Thanks Aunt Jo.”

  She slipped out of the gate, latching it behind her and walked around the cul de sac to Jet’s house. She wanted to look back at House of Figs to see if her aunt was still watching her but shook her head to stop being paranoid.

  Bethany had a key to the front door and unlocked the house, going inside and closing the door behind her. She’d collected the mail from the letter box and left them on the counter in the kitchen. As she walked, she kicked something and yelped, looking down. There was a suitcase on the ground.

  “Huh?”

  A door opened and she looked up as Jet walked out, his bottom half wrapped in a towel as he ruffled his hair with another. Bethany clamped her lips shut but not before a gulp burst out of her.

  “Bethany?!” Jet exclaimed, trying to cover his bare chest with the towel. “What are you doing here?”

  “What are you doing here?!” She demanded, flushing brightly. “You said you’d be home in an hour!”

  “I sent that an hour ago!” Jet’s body was covered in drops of water and she guessed he’d just had a shower. “Wifi must have dropped out…” He looked at her. “Could you…go elsewhere?”

  “I’ll leave.”

  “No, just…somewhere else in the house!”

  Bethany turned her back and darted to the lounge room, her heart fluttering. She heard Jet reach his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. Her cheeks were hot and she shook her head.

  “What if he hadn’t been wearing a towel!” She whispered then laughed. “Good grief…”

  It only took Jet a couple of minutes to emerge from his bedroom and the red cheeks and rapid heart rate hadn’t quite returned to normal. Jet pushed his hand through his brown hair which was still damp.

  “I…I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I didn’t know you were back.” She replied. “Surprise!” Bethany was trying to make light of it but the truth was, she was a little giddy by the moment. “How was the trip?”

  “Lots of listening, lots of acronyms I can’t remember and free uniform gear.” Jet shrugged. “I have a jacket, a hi visibility vest, a rain coat, a hat and a bag…which will all be useless in six months when they change the department’s name.”

  “Ah, government money…” Bethany licked her lips. “What about the people?”

  “People?”

  “The other people you trained with?”

  “Oh,” Jet shook his head, going into the kitchen, “they’re just people. They tried to be friendly…I don’t think I came across as friendly…” He glanced at her timidly. “I…when they asked about me, I said I had a girlfriend.”

  Bethany beamed. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “It felt weird to say.”

  “Weird?”

  “Never thought I’d be telling work colleagues that I have a girlfriend.” Jet explained as he opened the fridge and took a can of soft drink out, cracking it open, tapping the can five times before he did so. “Never thought I’d have a job, let alone a girl…friend.”

  “You do have a girlfriend.” Bethany insisted, taking his free hand.

  “Someone asked if I met you online,” Jet gave a small laugh, “like you were ‘imaginary’ or something.” His hazel eyes gazed into hers warmly. “Thank goodness you’re real.” He leaned towards her hesitantly and Bethany went the rest of the way to give him a kiss.

  “Definitely real.” She breathed, her heart doing another little skip.

  Jet didn’t pull away, gazing at her from his taller height. “I really missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” He set the can down and gently buried his fingers in her hair. Bethany felt a soft moan escape her lips, her eyes closing. “More than I thought I would…” She could feel his body heat as he shifted closer.

  “Is that…bad?” His voice developed a husky tremor that sent a thrill down her spine.

  “It’s good,” she trembled as she felt him lean down, “very good…”

  Their lips met and for a brief, glorious moment, there was a pause as though each of them was waiting for the other to do something, either move away or press closer. Bethany couldn’t tell who broke the cease fire, it happened so fast. She could feel his arm around her waist, his other hand still buried within her black ringlets. Her own arms were wrapped around his body, sliding up into his hair, feeling his clammy skin and damp locks.

  She had known a lover’s embrace before. Because the relationship had soured very quickly and taken her months to get out of, cutting him off from her life, Bethany had been relieved it was over and hadn’t sought another relationship. She’d been completely overwhelmed by the responsibility of her aunt in a coma and of House of Figs and its fictional crew. There had been some heady moments within those three months but none of them compared to the here and now.

  And suddenly her body, which knew what was coming, was electrified with anticipation. All the restraint and distractions were pushed aside as she kissed Jet, feeling him respond with equal voracity…at least…at first. Bethany was so caught up in the moment she didn’t realise Jet was pulling back, holding onto him tightly.

  “Bethany…” He huffed and she kissed him again, her name on his lips drawing her closer but he took her hands and pushed her back as he stepped away. “Please…”

  She stared at him, like he’d pulled the chair out from beneath her. Jet’s eyes were glassy and he let go of her hands to push them through his hair.

  “I’m sorry…I can’t…”

  “Jet?” He turned and leaned on the counter, breathing heavily. “I…”

  “I…Bethany, I got scared…I’m sorry.” He shuddered. “I just…I can’t lose you…”

  Bethany was stunned. “Lose me?”

  He’d pushed her away because he was afraid he’d lose her?

  “I barely know what it means to have a girlfriend,” he rasped, “and then you were here and for a moment I…but what if we break up?”

  “Why would we break up?” Bethany demanded. “Did you sleep with someone in the city?”

  “What? No!” He turned to her, shocked.

  “Do you think we should break up?”

  “That’s not what I said!” Jet blurted. “I said, what if!” Bethany stared at him, so confused she couldn’t think straight. He closed his eyes, the corners of his mouth turned down. “I can’t…deal…with change. I…need…to know…it’s not going to end…”

  He was shaking, frightened beyond all measure. Bethany licked her lips, putting her agenda aside.

  “Jet,” she took his hand lightly, her fingers threaded through his, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what it would mean to you.” He glanced at her. “You need absolutes…and I suppose in a way I do too…” Her heart ached to be held and loved but she knew she couldn’t force his hand. “I can’t tell you that we’re going to end up together forever…and if I can’t make that promise, at least not yet, then…what nearly happened…it’s off the table.”

  “What table?”

  She gave a weak laugh. “I mean, it’s not going to happen.”

  Jet shook his head. “But it’s what couples do…”

  “Some but not all.” She slipped around the counter and sat on one of the bar stools so she could grasp both his hands, keeping the wooden counter and marble worktop between them. “Not Aunt Jo and Abram. They’re waiting. And do you know something? It’s actually really refreshing and nice.”

  “That’s not what it felt like just now.” Jet trembled.

  “That’s because…it’s also really nice,” Bethany swallowed hard, “but not if we’re not in the same place at the same time,” she caught sight of his confusion, “I mean metaphorically. If you’re not comfortable, then it’s not happening.”

  “But you wanted it.”

  “I still do…but I want you more.” She held his gaze. “There’s plenty of time…no rush.”

  Jet let out a shaky breath and nodded. “No rush.” He whispered.

  Summer in Glenwilde wasn’t nearly as hot as the rest of the country because of the altitude of the township. There was a fallout of tourists and customers, business picking up by the end of February, the start of school seeing a great many parents escaping to their favourite coffee shop once they’d dropped their children into the care of teachers.

  Jet had settled into his job although he lamented frequently that he didn’t know what he was doing half the time and the other half, he was irritated when his work colleagues didn’t follow procedure.

  “That’s why you’re the contract checker.” She teased him. “Your attentiveness to detail means the contracts are set up correctly.”

  Their decision to wait before sleeping together remained in effect. Bethany wanted more but knew Jet wanted absolution. She hoped, one day, they would find their middle ground.

  Though House of Figs had been quieter, life around them remained busy. Koen and Dorothea Braam were settled into their nursing home after a fire nearly destroyed their house. Gwen had given birth in Bastian’s world to a little girl with Bronwyn’s assistance. She was called Emmeline and Armin was drunk on joy at his red haired daughter with the green eyes.

  “She’ll be a striking werewolf when she eventually develops her wolfish traits.” Bastian chuckled.

  “Jurgen looks like you, though.” Bethany handed him dirty plates over the counter.

  “He is a handsome babe now that you mention it.” Bastian said, beaming brightly.

  “When the cold weather sets in, let me know if he develops any kind of cough.” Faelan swept the crumbs from his station into his hand, brushing them off into the bin.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I will.” Bastian replied firmly and without any teasing. When it came to his son, Bastian was all business.

  “Mail call!” Aunt Jo came through the door, stepping aside as the last customers left. “Nothing exciting. Bills, junk mail…a free piece of weatherboard,” she shook her head and laughed, “I keep thinking if I collected all the little pieces of weatherboard the company puts in letter boxes, I could probably clad a house for free.”

  “As long as you staggered the pieces like one does with bricks…” Rob came down from upstairs, carrying the laptop, lifting it as James tore down the steps, the top of his white spiked hair narrowly missing the computer before he leapt to the floor and into his father’s arms.

  “You need to watch where you’re going!” Eustace rebuked lightly. James looked at him pointedly and he sighed. “I know, you’ve been stuck doing puzzles all day. We’ll go swimming and burn off some of that energy.”

  “It never worked with you.” Rafael snorted as he hung his apron from the hook. “Don’t see why it would with James. Evening.” He strode out the back, heading for the Observatory.

  Bethany shook her head, smiling. “He might have left his vampiric ways behind him but he’s still very much Rafael.”

  “At least you can get a smile out of him now,” Eustace jogged to match Bastian’s stride, “hold up, Bast, I need a word…”

  They left via the back door as Rob, Annie and Aunt Jo sat at one of the tables to look over contracts and loan repayments.

  “Bethany,” Jo held out an envelope, “this was in the letterbox for you.”

  “Thanks.” Bethany smiled at Adela as she arrived home from school, coming in the side door so that she could go past Faelan and say hello. Bethany let the new little habit go. Adela was rather taken with Faelan and she didn’t want to embarrass the young girl who was in her final year of primary school.

  “Bethany,” Adela approached, “is it customary for human girls to possess mobile phones?”

  “A lot of them do,” Bethany nodded, “I guess it depends when their parents think they’re old enough to handle the responsibility of them.” Adela frowned. “Are you thinking about a phone?”

  “I have been told I could message Shania and Lacy after school if I had a phone.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking we need a couple of phones attached to House of Figs,” Jo spoke, looking up from the laptop, “especially if the Braam house situation works out…” She looked at Adela apologetically. “Could we maybe talk about this after I go through all these building regulations? We’ve got a lot to wade through.”

  “Of course.” Adela headed upstairs.

  Bethany turned her attention back to the envelope. It was a heavy weight, larger than average cream envelope with a light blue fleck through it. Her name was written in neat writing and the stamp was a pair of rings entwined. She opened it, drawing the single piece of cream card out, her heart sinking as she read the words ‘you are cordially invited…’. She flipped it over to see a piece of vellum attached with a golden embossed heart, words printed perfectly across the semi sheer sheet, lightly covering the photo beneath. She read the words, ‘Brent St James and Jennifer Brightman have decided to make it official and would be delighted if you could attend…’.

  Her vision blurred and her hand dropped away.

  “…any…Bethany?” She blinked and turned to the table, Aunt Jo, Rob and Annie looked at her, concerned. “What is it?”

  Bethany tried to smile but her voice cracked, giving her away. “Dad’s wedding invitation…”

  Aunt Jo sighed. “That was inevitable really.”

  Bethany could hardly look at the invitation. “I don’t know why he sent me this.”

  “You’re his daughter.”

  Bethany swallowed, recalling that Aunt Jo wasn’t aware of how Bethany had last spoken to her father. “It’s just…I kind of gave him a serve when he rang me up for my birthday…” Guilt and anger warred within her. “I wasn’t very nice…”

  “You were honest,” Faelan said, having overheard the conversation from the fig tree, “and hurt.”

  “I could have been honest without being cruel.” She admitted. “He hasn’t messaged me or called since. I thought he’d written me off…”

  “Maybe Jenn encouraged him to reach out.”

  “Maybe…” Bethany shrugged, preparing to tear it in half. “Maybe he sent it cause he knew I wouldn’t go.”

  “Bethany, wait…” Her aunt darted towards her, staying her hand. “Don’t act rashly. Think about it first.”

  “What’s there to think about? He ditched my mum for another woman!” Bethany snapped then stopped when she saw her aunt’s stunned expression and realised she’d yelled at her. “Sorry…it’s just…”

  Jo gently took the invitation from Bethany’s hand and, after straightening some of the creases, lifted the vellum and looked at the photo beneath.

  “Sarah was my sister,” she said softly, “I was there when Brent first asked her out,” she looked up at Bethany and smiled sadly, “I know their marriage was a tricky one, with Sarah’s expectations and Brent’s inability to confront…but he does look happy in this photo.” Bethany didn’t want to look at it. She didn’t want her dad to be happy with someone else. “I’m not saying I agree with what he did or why or anything else…but Sarah’s gone.” Tears pricked Bethany’s eyes. “Before you make a hasty decision,” she pressed the invitation into Bethany’s hand, “ask yourself if you would regret not going because you can’t go back in time and make it right.”

  Bethany nodded stiffly then escaped out the back of House of Figs. She went around the corner to the front yard and sat on the fig tree swing, turning sideways so she could put her feet up. Anxiously she lifted the invitation to her eyes, pushing the vellum aside to see her dad sitting with Jenn, beaming as brightly at her as she was at him.

  She put it down shifted her weight so the swing moved back and forth, rocking her gently, wishing she could escape the pain in her chest.

  She heard the front gate open and close but from her position she couldn’t tell who had arrived because the fig tree was so large and the swing was tucked behind it. Only a minute later Jet came around the back corner of the house, his hands in his pockets.

  “I’m glad you’re here. If you weren’t, I’d have to start searching books for you.” He said lightly as she moved her legs, making space for him to sit. “Are you okay?”

  “Aunt Jo told you?”

  He shook his head. “She just said you needed some company.”

  Bethany smiled sadly then leaned against him, holding out the invitation. “It’s in three weeks,” she said softly, “in the city…”

  “Are you going?”

  “I don’t…”

  “Want to? Know?” Jet’s legs were long enough to plant on the ground, walking the swing back and forth. “Think it’s a good idea?”

  “All of the above?”

  The air was cooling after a warm day. The heat intensified all the smells in the air, jasmine and wattle scents wafting past them. Bethany stayed leaning on Jet, wishing she could forget everything else and just live in her bubble.

  “I don’t want to regret not going,” she confided softly, “but I don’t want to go on my own.”

  There was a long pause. “You want me to come with you?”

  Bethany’s throat tightened. “You’d hate it.” She said a little defensively. “A social event with people you don’t know far from your comfort zone?” She sniffed and played with a loose thread on her top. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  He was quiet for another long pause. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” She sat up and he turned towards her, apprehensive but willing. “I’m not saying I’ll be the life of the party,” she smiled as he snorted at himself, “but…this is what boyfriends do. They are their girlfriend’s plus one.”

  Bethany allowed herself a little laugh. “It doesn’t say that.”

  “It says, you may bring a guest.” He said firmly. “Will you feel brave enough to go if I am with you?”

  She kissed him lightly then sank against his side. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

  In the end, Bethany and Jet travelled to the city with Jo, Abram and Adela. Jo wanted to show Abram and Adela some of the sights the city had to offer, including the aquarium as well as going to her mobile phone provider and talking to them about another two phone plans. Rob promised to take care of House of Figs in their three day absence and they knew it was in good hands.

  “I remember when I was terrified to leave them alone for an hour or two.” Bethany said nervously as they found their places on the train, tucking her travel bag beneath her seat.

  “I’ve had many years of building trust with Rob,” Jo showed Abram where to put his bag and then where to sit, “I think of him as the eldest out of my boys.”

  Jet was well prepared for crowded spaces with his headphones and portable game console. Bethany let him have the window seat because it limited the amount of exposure to random people on the train. The train from Glenwilde to the city was fast and only stopped a handful of times in the city itself. The five travellers disembarked one stop before the CBD train station and walked two streets over to their accommodation which faced the botanical gardens.

  “A little more pricey than I like to pay for accommodation,” Aunt Jo admitted as they carried their bags inside, “but we’ll save on transport, being so close to everything. And the price isn’t so bad when split between five people.”

  “Yes but you’re still paying for three of us.” Abram grumbled a little.

  “I’m sorry, Abram,” Jo stroked his cheek, “I just don’t think they’ll accept Engaland currency.”

  “I wish there was a way for me to contribute…” He sighed.

  “What with Rob and Annie doing wonders with investment portfolios and House of Figs running so well, it’s fine.”

  That evening they went to a musical and enjoyed the light hearted comedy and fine voices. Jet declined to come, needing quiet after a day on the train and in close crowds. The following day they hit the CBD shops in the morning before returning briefly to their accommodation so that Bethany and Jet could change for the wedding.

  Adela helped Bethany with her hair.

  “You’re really quite good at this.”

  “I’ve had five hundred years to perfect it.” Adela said without conceit as she pinned Bethany’s final black ringlet into position. “Does it meet with your expectation?”

  “I’m a little scared it’s going to be too fancy for my dress.” Bethany unhooked the clothes hanger which held her white swing dress with the red roses and gathered bodice. A petticoat of white tulle peeked out from beneath and she had cap sleeve crop cardigan to sit over the top. She changed in the bathroom, emerging to find her red pumps.

  “Bethany, you look lovely.” Abram praised.

  “Thanks.” Bethany looked around. “Jet?”

  “He’s got plenty of time.” Jo reassured her.

  Bethany picked up her handbag, sliding her phone into it, alongside the wedding invitation.

  “Do I look as nervous as I feel?”

  “Not at all.” Jo glanced at Abram. “We’re off to the aquarium. Will you be alright?”

  Bethany nodded and saw them out the door. Twenty minutes later Jet emerged, tugging on his suit jacket.

  “That’s very smart.” She admired.

  “Rob lent me his suit.” Jet shrugged. “Out of all the guys, he’s the closest to my build.”

  “No tie?”

  “Do I need one?”

  Bethany shook her head. “You look good without it.” She tousled his hair and smiled. “You scrub up so good, Jet.”

  “I’d look pretty lame next to you in my usual outfit.” Jet glanced at his shoes. “Although I have to say, these do a good job of looking smart and are still really comfortable.”

  They’d found the store that Jet’s favourites shoes came from and Bethany had convinced him to buy his usual red shoes but also to buy them in black as, at a glance, they looked like smart office shoes.

  “I suppose we’d better go…” She looked at the clock. “Or I could procrastinate for a while longer…”

  “We’ll leave now but walk slowly.”

  They walked to the tram stop and caught it into the CBD then navigated several streets over to where heritage buildings were clustered around a giant fountain in the middle of garden beds and large liquidambar trees whose leaves were turning the hues of autumn. Traffic skirted around the lawns and gardens, stopping to allow pedestrians to cross.

  The registry office wasn’t one of the heritage buildings but rather, a modern construct hidden in an offshoot street. It was tinted glass and metal beams, clinical and efficient. Bethany’s heart quivered. Her shoes, which had made a consisted clicking on the concrete, stopped and caught Jet’s attention. He looked back at her, the revolving doors spinning slowly behind him.

  “Hey,” he said as he held out his hand, “it’ll be okay.”

  “Uh huh…” She swallowed, grasped his hand and let him lead her inside. The foyer was black and gold tiles and wide mouthed vases filled with artificial floral displays, so realistic that they probably cost more than real flowers.

  “Do you know what floor?”

  “Um…third floor, chapel four.” They entered the elevator, the doors closing behind them.

  When the doors opened they found themselves in the middle of a hallway. There was a pillar in front of them. Jet studied the engraved plate on its fa?ade.

  “Chapel four is that one there.” He pointed to a corner. The four chapels were situated in the corners of the building, each with a waiting room and small office so that multiple weddings could be facilitated at the same time. Outside chapel number four was a display board with a beautifully printed announcement with scroll detail in the corner and calligraphy styled writing across it. “St James and Brightman wedding…I guess we go in here?”

  Jet hated going into closed rooms with unknown people. There was something strangely terrifying about the prospect, about not being able to escape if he needed to. And yet, if it was possible, Bethany was even more frightened than he. Her fingers were cold in his hand and he could feel the resistance in her arm even as she followed him.

  “You ready?” He asked her.

  Bethany’s blue eyes looked at him and she opened her mouth to speak when the doors to the waiting room opened and a man appeared, laughing to someone behind him.

  “I’ll just check but you never…Bethany!”

  “Dad!” She blurted.

  Father and daughter stared at each other. Brent St James had black hair but unlike Bethany’s, it was showing signs of silver highlights. His eyes were grey with a hint of blue and he was taller than Jet by an inch or two, dressed in a dark grey suit, a white flower tucked into his lapel.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Brent admitted after a long pause.

  “Neither was I.” Bethany licked her lips. “This is my boyfriend, Jet Roberston.” Brent shook Jet’s hand. “He lives in the same cul de sac as House of Figs.”

  “Good to meet you, Jet.” Brent turned to Bethany. “I heard Jo recovered,” she nodded, “that’s good.”

  “Yeah…”

  Another awkward pause.

  “Come in,” Brent gestured, “come…” Bethany followed him, her hand tightly grasping Jet’s and they entered the waiting room where there were some light refreshments as the wedding guests talked and mingled before the event. Bethany didn’t know any of them but she recognised one woman who wore a wiggle dress in white, her blonde hair styled into a French knot with a white glittery clasp and flowers that matched her father’s lapel decoration. “Jenn, this is my daughter Bethany. Bethany, this is Jenn Brightman.”

  “Bethany,” Jenn said brightly, “you came!”

  “Hi Jenn,” Bethany greeted, “congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Jenn smiled. “Who is your friend?”

  “Jet Roberston.”

  “You didn’t tell me Bethany had a boyfriend.” Jenn teased Brent lightly.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Is that a problem?” Bethany asked, feeling a nip of panic. “The invitation did say I could bring a guest…but I didn’t RSVP…”

  “It’s not a problem at all. Dinner after the service is a very informal affair. No place settings apart from ours.” Jenn winked at Brent. “The front row in the chapel is reserved for family.”

  “Will anyone else be sitting up the front?” Bethany feared she and Jet would be the only ones on her father’s side of the chapel.

  “Kendra was supposed to be coming but she isn’t here yet,” Bethany kept her groan internalised as the last time she’d seen Kendra, it had been in a courtroom and Kendra hadn’t come out of it well, “Peter’s here with Libby.”

  “Libby?” Bethany frowned, glancing at her father’s brother who was in the corner with an unfamiliar woman. “What happened to Aunty Wendy?”

  “Messy divorce.” Brent cleared his throat. “Could be why Kendra’s not here.”

  Bethany wished Jet was better at small talk. She had exhausted her reserves for conversation but Jet was not forth coming.

  “Brent, honey,” Jenn put her hand on his arm, “the registrar needs us to fill in some paperwork before the ceremony.”

  “Right,” Brent smiled at Bethany, “I’ll see you after.”

  Bethany let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when her father and Jenn disappeared into the small office with the rather stern looking gent who was to perform the ceremony. She stood at the floor to ceiling windows, looking down at the streets, her whole body trembling.

  “You okay?”

  “I guess.” Bethany glanced at him. “I hadn’t met Jenn before. I only knew of her for months,” she pressed her lips together, “hating her, really…I was hoping she wouldn’t be nice so I could go on hating her…”

  Jet put his arm awkwardly around her shoulders and gave her a hug. A few minutes later the chapel doors opened and the guests found their way into the nicely furnished but still rather sterile room where there was a low stage facing chairs that would seat up to about fifty people. The room was three quarters full by the time they took their seats. Bethany and Jet removed the ‘reserved’ signs and sat at the front, Bethany closest to the aisle and Jet sitting beside her. She fiddled with her handbag then put it on the ground, clasping her hands together on her lap.

  The registrar appeared and asked them all to rise for the bride and groom. Brent and Jenn walked up the aisle, hand in hand and stood in front of the registrar who welcomed the guests, stating that a wedding was a time to come together to celebrate love. He then said they could sit down.

  Jet watched the ceremony being performed, feeling somewhat detached from it. He wasn’t given to excessive emotion normally and a wedding involving two people he barely knew was hardly going to make him start weeping for joy. He listened as Brent’s brother, Peter, stood to say a few words and Jenn’s best friend added her own small piece. Then the registrar began to lead them through their vows.

  He could hear a few people sniffing and camera’s snapping photos as Brent and Jenn exchanged vows, repeating the words with eyes only for each other. He glanced briefly at Bethany from the corner of his eye and saw tears brimming on the edge of her lashes. As he watched, one broke free and trickled down her cheek. She didn’t brush it away. Jet studied her, getting a sense that these were not happy tears yet he could not understand why he felt that way. Perhaps it was because her lips were turned down at the corners and she was swallowing hard. There was no joy in her expression, only pain.

  “…by the witnesses here, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  Their kiss was lightly obscured by a sudden wash of bubbles, blown from numerous guests who had come prepared. Brent and Jenn laughed after their kiss, surrounded by bubbles and, as the guests surged forward, surrounded by family and friends.

  Bethany stood, bowed her head and hurried to the far edge of the seating. Jet twisted to see her almost run to the chapel entrance and slip outside. He stood and followed her only to find the waiting room empty. He kept going to the hall where the elevators were. A flash of white and red skirt caught his eye, ducking around the side of the elevators, hidden mostly by pillar.

  “Bethany?” He approached, her shoulders shaking hard. “Hey…”

  She turned to him, her mascara streaking as tears ran down her face. “Jet…I can’t…I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking!” She was so emotional it threatened Jet’s equilibrium. “I…I can’t go to dinner! I can’t sit there…”

  Jet didn’t know what else to do so he took her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

  “Sshhhh…” He urged, almost as much for his sake as it was for hers. “You don’t have to.”

  “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”

  “You made it to the wedding,” he said firmly, “that’s enough. You won’t regret not coming…let’s not regret going to the reception.”

  She gave a tiny laugh, nearly drowned out by her shaking sobs. “I…don’t know what to tell dad…”

  “I think he’ll figure it out.”

  “I could message him…my handbag!” Bethany’s eyes were wide with fright. “It’s still in the chapel.”

  “I’ll get it.” He promised. “Why don’t you go downstairs to the foyer? I’ll meet you there.”

  He headed back to the chapel through the waiting room. The guests were still milling about, taking photos and blowing even more bubbles. Jet found Bethany’s handbag tucked beneath her seat and stood up, clutching at it.

  “Jet, wasn’t it?” Brent broke away from the core crowd to approach him. “Where’s Bethany?”

  Jet floundered. He glanced at the doors to the chapel. “She…”

  Brent followed his gaze, his eyes widening before he closed them. “Oh…”

  “She’s quite…emotional.” Jet wasn’t sure if he was being diplomatic. “I’m going to take her home.”

  Brent shook his head. “She couldn’t even put aside past hurt to celebrate with me?”

  Jet stared at him, dumbfounded that this man couldn’t realise just how hard it had been for Bethany to come in the first place.

  “She didn’t want to regret not being here for you,” he said sharply, “but if you can’t understand why this would be difficult for her, then you’re more clueless about emotions than I am.” Brent’s mouth dropped open and Jet immediately regrated his words. “Sorry,” he blurted, “I just know how nervous she was.” He clutched the handbag tightly. “I want to be a good boyfriend, to help her be brave and protect her when she’s reached the end of her courage.”

  “Then she’s lucky to have you.” Brent said softly then held up his hand. “Wait…” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and drew some cash out. “Here,” Jet stared at him, “I was going shout you both dinner tonight…take Bethany somewhere nice and tell her, I love her.”

  Jet accepted the cash, putting it into Bethany’s handbag. “I will.” He left the chapel, made his way to the elevator and headed down to the foyer where he found Bethany using a tissue to try to fix her makeup. She looked at him anxiously.

  “Was he angry? Was he hurt?”

  “He said to say, he loves you,” Jet held out the handbag, “and he wants me to take you somewhere nice for dinner.”

  Bethany’s eyes filled with tears again. “Can we find somewhere with a bathroom and a proper mirror?” She tried to joke.

  “I think that might be a good idea.”