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think it might be a dress. I quickly direct my eyes to Jesse. “Here’s Patrick. You said Monday, remember?” I need to get that in quickly.
    Jesse looks over his shoulder. “Yes, Ava. Just until Monday, though.”
    “Flower!” Patrick thrusts the gift bag at me, kisses my cheek, and then holds his hand out to Jesse. “Mr. Ward,” he greets, a frown popping up onto his wrinkled forehead when he clocks the cuffs.
    “Please, it’s Jesse. Thank you for coming.” Jesse takes Patrick’s hand.
    My boss drags his eyes away from our wrists. “This is Irene.” He signals to his wife as she wobbles over with the biggest grin on her face. I smile to myself. She’s affected.
    “Nice to meet you,” she says and giggles.
    “And you.” Jesse hits her with his smile, and she disintegrates on the spot. “Please, the bar staff will see to you.”
    “Thank you!” she gushes. “This hotel is just wonderful!”
    “Hello, Irene,” I say on a smile. She drags her greedy eyes away from my husband and brings them onto me. She’s a frightening woman, but not at the moment. She’s too busy straightening her back and pulling in her stomach. “How are you?”
    “Delightful!” she sings in my face.
    Patrick grasps his wife’s elbow and guides her away. “We’ll get a drink.” He rolls his eyes, and I smile fondly at my boss. I know he finds his wife exasperating.
    “Interesting woman,” Jesse muses, looking a little alarmed at her leopard-print body, wobbling away from us.
    I laugh. “She makes Patrick’s life miserable.”
    “I can imagine.”
    “Here’s John,” I say, glancing past Jesse at the big guy strolling over, wraparounds in place and his usual menacing expression plastered all over his face. His stare is pointed at the cuffs before he gives me the nod. I nod back.
    “A word, Jesse,” he rumbles. He’s too serious. I don’t like it, and Jesse’s quick flick of his eyes to me doesn’t make me feel any better.
    Jesse reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key to the handcuffs, and I watch as he brings it to my wrist. “What are you doing?” I ask, yanking my arm away.
    “John wants a quick word.”
    “Oh no.” I laugh. “You don’t get to release me when it suits you. No way, Ward.” I look at John, who’s still expressionless.
    “Ava, I’ll be back shortly.” He pulls my wrist back to him.
    “No! Where are you going?” I look at John. “Where is he going?”
    “’S’all good, girl.”
    “No. It’s not all fucking good!” I yell, a bit too loudly, earning myself a frightening scowl from Jesse. I don’t care. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to brush me off when it suits him. It’s my wedding day.
    “Watch your mouth!” he grates, leaning into me. “I’ll be a few minutes. You’ll stay fucking put, Ava.”
    I recoil at his animosity, completely stunned as he makes quick work of the handcuffs before striding out with John. I’m perched on a barstool, the bride in a stunning gown, adorned with diamonds, all of our guests laughing, chatting, and drinking, and I want to go home. I feel tearful, slighted, and very, very hurt. I lower myself from the stool, deciding to escape to the toilets. I might have a little cry, too. I need to get away from these people before the tears start flowing freely.
    “Where are you going, darling?” Mum asks as she makes her way over.
    I spread a fake smile on my face. She’s had too much Most Marvelous. Her hair isn’t perfect and she doesn’t seem to care, a clear indication that she’s feeling a bit squiffy. “Toilet. I won’t be long.”
    “Do you want some help? I’m not sure where Kate’s gone.” She looks around the bar.
    “No, I’ve got it.” I leave my mum and head for the toilets, looking forward to some privacy.
    Pushing my way through the door, I place myself in front of the mirror to look at my sorry face. I’m not a blushing bride anymore. There is no twinkle in my eye or happy smile on my lips. I sigh