[ BREMMY STICKER COLLECTIVE / NRO #5 ]

...

GARDEN ARCHWAY FOR A LIFETIME

The church is something out of a fairy tale. At least, this is the first thought that springs to mind when I step off the trolley.

It's old and stony and cracked, but in a glorious sort of way. In the same way it's partially covered by crawling ivy. Its lawns are similarly unique, the landscape both simultaneously well-kept but also unkempt in corners. It's a fairy tale's church.

Bodes well for a wedding.

We have almost an hour to go before showtime, so once again we split up with girls going one way and the boys going the other.

Mrs. Brooks is saying something to Brody, and Brooks follows right behind them. I tell myself I'm looking at the handsome groom, not his brother.

Alex, Nate, and Travis bring up the rear. I let Meg steer me inside the fairy tale church. It smells like the pages of a story book, ripened by hundreds of years. Penn sets up a Bluetooth speaker in the one side room that we are turning into our temporary bridal staging area.

First song on the playlist is Sunroof and I swear I've heard it 100 times this summer. Trix pours everyone a lemonade vodka shot. Only Lauren and her breastfeeding sister decline. Even Mrs. Brooks, who has since joined Team Bride, swigs one back.

"Still can't believe Brody is getting married first," she says to no one in particular.

"At least you still have one wedding this year!" Lauren's mom laughs.

Ah, poking fun at a failed engagement. Original.

"You never know," Mrs. Brooks replies, smacking her lips.

"Sure as shit," Meg whispers to me, smirking.

My smile falters feebly. When I look up without meaning to, Mrs. Brooks catches my eye and I see a certain wistfulness. I understand her you never know to be for my benefit, not Cece's.

About 20 minutes later, Whit streams inside the door, face looking flush.

"People are starting to arrive!" She announces in a sing-song voice.

"Seriously, it's filling up nicely," Marissa nods, coming in behind her.

"Only about 20 minutes before we take our places," Mrs. Parker tells us. "I'm going to check on the reserved pews. Make sure the ribbons are tied."

She walks out the door in a hurry, bumping into Meg.

"Oh, Emmy, someone was looking for you out there," Whit says nonchalantly.

"Oh?" I raise my brow, lips still tangy with lemon. "Anyone good?"

"One of the boys. Brody or Brooks. Not sure. Alex told me to tell you."

Maybe it's the paranoia, but I'm almost certain I see a sly smile when she shrugs.

"Ugh," I sigh. "Okay, I'll be right back."

I leave my phone and clutch and hand Meg my shot glass on the way out the door. I didn't realize how stuffy the little room had become until I smell the fresh air seeping into the cathedral through the propped doors and clerestory windows. I slink along the side wall, trying my best to blend into the Stations of the Cross.

I search for the guys' room. First one I find is empty. Then I spot Nate coming in from out front.

"Hey, Emmy," he says.

"Hey, Nate. I was summoned?"

"Oh yea. Out back, I think."

He steers me in the direction of a door that leads into the backyard. Do churches have backyards?

"Thanks!" I shout over my shoulder.

The backyard-courtyard of sorts has a sprawling garden on one side, a fountain pond behind it, and a partially crumbling structure in the middle. The stone structure must have been part of the original church, but it's now consumed by the garden, devoured by ivy vines sprouting white and purple flower buds. There's a ramshackle fence around it.

"Hello?" I call out to no one.

My heels stumble lightly over the uneven stones as I make my way farther into the yard.

The sun is mid-sky above me. It's already close to fall's golden hour. No soul in sight.

I make my way through the garden and to the backside of the crumbling stone. Instead of finding a door, I see what's left of an old archway.

I step towards it, entering inside what looks like a stony greenhouse, except with broken walls, no door, and barely a roof. It's 90% open to the heavens.

"Hello?" I ask again.

"Hey, there you are."

I spin around in time to find Brooks emerging from behind one of the stone walls.

"Oh, you," I smirk. "Are you looking for me?"

"Guilty," he says, closing the distance between us.

"What's with you always trapping me at weddings?" I joke.

"Trapping?" Brooks's sea-foam blue eyes bore into mine.

I shrug, indicating our current situation.

Looking around, we are entirely concealed from view. The quaint, tumble-down garden we find ourselves in is the only witness to this moment. Brooks stands in a doorway of shorts and I'm almost pinned against the crumbling stone wall. Golden light streaks through the three remaining beams of what once supported a roof, but now only holds flowers.

"What do you want?" I ask him, keeping my voice sounding light, casual. "Round two? Because we need to be inside in like 16 minutes."

"Ha, no. Well -yes. But don't tempt me right now," Brooks says.

He takes another step towards me, dimming some of the light. Even with my heels on, he's still inches taller than me. I can smell his skin again, lingering in the open air between us. It mixes with the floral aroma of the makeshift trellis.

"So..." I trail off, starting to feel excited nervous. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to see you before the wedding-"

"You did," I cut him off. "This morning, at the hotel, the trolley, etc." I remind him.

"I meant alone. God, you're going to make this difficult for me," he says.

His words, albeit rough, are spoken with a rare tenderness. It's one I can't place. Suddenly, our seclusion is a waving red flag. Like, the reddest.

Brooks steps even closer, until he is so close I couldn't even fit a hand between us. His arm reaches up behind my head.

"Jay, what are you do-?"

"Finding something."

I think he might rest his hand against the stone partition, but instead he retracts it. And he's holding something. A little fabric swatch of something.

"Did you put something in there?" I swivel my head in search of his hiding spot.

His voice snaps me back to reality.

"Emmeline Lou," he starts, picking up my hands.

I'd back away if I could. Because, what in the holy secret garden torture chamber is happening right now? But fuck, his hand feels nice on mine.

"First-naming me, here we go," I tease. "Best make this quick, I think I hear the organ starting up."

"These past few months -years really -have been indescribable. Like from a great novel or classic movie or something else I don't  deserve to live out." Brooks recites with earnest.

"Okay," I say slowly, agreeing in a way. "But what-"

A ring, no, THE ring, the only ring ever worth existing again -is held up in front of my eyes.

Fucking fuck fuck.

FUCK.