The Billionaire And The Waitress (gxg)

37 - a cake

THE chandelier lights glistened so bright compared to the dim moonlight outside that Muse had to blink several times once they stepped inside the tent. Adrien's fingers were laced with hers. The touch should've been comforting. But Muse could only think of how Adrien had lied to her―lied about the reason they were getting married. Her palm felt like it was burning. She wanted to yank her hand away.

     They still had to present the image of a happy couple, though. There were too many people. Too much press. Stupid billionaire and stupid wealthy wedding guests and stupid paparazzi. So Muse leaned into Adrien's ear, like a lover about to whisper sweet nothings, and smiled.

     "I want an annulment, babycake," she said.

     She didn't know much about the process of marriages and divorces and annulments. But she'd heard of celebrity couples that had annulled their marriage after only days. She was positive her and Adrien would qualify. An annulment would be simpler―less paperwork, less fuss. Over and done with. Muse was so furious with Adrien that just looking at her made her blood burn. If they got their marriage annulled, and Muse never saw her again, she'd be fucking glad.

     It didn't matter that she was still in love with her. Adrien had lied.

     "An annulment?" Adrien said, as if the thought had never occurred to her.

     "There's no way in hell I'm staying married to you," Muse replied through her teeth, still smiling lovingly.

     Ezra led them towards the platform near the edge of the tent, where a few of the guests had already begun to gather around. The waiters must have brought out the wedding cake while they were gone, because Muse's jaw slackened at the towering monstrosity of dessert before her.

     It had to be at least fifteen layers. Glittering sugar and lilac frosting and buttercream. With two little figures atop it.

     "Agnes and Phoebe made it," Adrien said, glancing at Muse's expression. "Phoebe carved out the little statues of us."

     Adrien's hand on hers tugged her towards the cake, until they were standing right before it. A large knife gleamed on the table, polished silver. Up close, Muse studied the figurines of her and Adrien: one bride dressed in a suit, with pale skin, shiny black hair and a slight smirk, and the other dressed in a wedding gown, with brown skin and curly golden-brown hair falling down her back. The colours against each other were stunning. Strands of lavender and violet flowers had been artfully strewn around the layers of lilac frosting, almost as if they were being grown from the confection. Swirls of pale gold glittered on the white fondant, only visible with the catching of the light. The cake looked less like it had come from a bakery, and more like Phoebe and Agnes had happened upon it in a forest made by fairies.

     "Do you like it?" said Phoebe from the other side of the table, her hands clasped together. Agnes had her arm around her. Both their expressions contained true worry.

     "Are you kidding?" said Muse, in awe. "It's too beautiful, I don't even want to eat it, let alone cut it. It's incredible."

     "Thank you," Adrien added. "I know how long it took. I could've just ordered from somewhere."

     "Nonsense!" Phoebe wrung her hands. "It was an honour to make a cake for our baby princess dollface."

     Adrien's cheeks tinged with a slight red. Muse hated that she found that stupid blush cute. It made her feel especially homicidal. Her grip on Adrien's hand got tighter. 

     Ezra cleared his throat, and scoured the table for a spoon and glass. Lifting them high into the air, he clinked several times until he had caught the attention of the entire reception. The laughter and chatter died, the music fading into a quieter chorus.