Bronze Love ↠ Matthew Fairchild [2]

FOUR

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A G O O D N A M E

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Willa hadn't expected herself to be too emotional at James' wedding. She knew she would be upset, that seeing a wedding and having to be in the same room as the person she would never get that happy ending with would hurt more than she wanted it to. But to her surprise, it was the sight of James standing at the altar that brought her to tears.

She was watching him from the small crack she had made by pushing the chapel doors open and he was only standing there, looking the same he had when she saw him a couple of minutes prior. Yet there was something different about seeing her Jamie upon the altar. About knowing he was about to get married, even if it was all a sham.

James was looking out over the gathered crowd, the Mask Willa had grown to both love and hate already on his face. She knew he had to be silently reeling over the whole thing, that seeing the pews filled with wedding guests was making him more nervous than he would ever let on. Her throat constricted at the sight of him and she tried to swallow away her sadness.

James was getting married. Her brother, her twin, her Jamie was getting married.

Willa had to wipe at the stray tears that escaped her eyes, already feeling the urge to become a blubbering mess even if she knew the truth. She was proud of her brother, knew what this meant for him and how no one else would know the sacrifice that both him and Cordelia were going to make. It made her want to cry even more at how selfless her brother was, even if he didn't necessarily show it all the time.

She had to look away before she got too sentimental. After all, this wedding wasn't real, not in the ways that mattered anyways.

For a moment, she thought of Cordelia and felt her heart ache for the girl who she knew loved her brother more than life itself. She knew how the red head had to be feeling, knew that it both broke her heart and made her feel as light as air at the thought of marrying James. It was, after all, all that Cordelia had longed for since she first met the boy. If only James knew.

Not wanting to dwell on the hidden sadness that was at the core of this beautiful day, Willa turned her attention to the pews where she could see the Wentworths and Bridgestocks as well as the the Townsends and Baybrooks who sat alongside people she barely knew. Then there were her parents in the front pew, their hands tightly clasped. Cordelia's family — Sona in ivory silk with gold and silver embroidery; Elias looking tired, and years older than Willa remembered. Alastair, his face haughty and unreadable as ever. Willa's aunts and uncles, clustered together. Henry, a broad grin on his face, his Bath chair drawn up beside the pew where Charles sat. Thomas and Anna, smiling encouragingly.