As the cheers and whistles erupted in the venue, one person looked far more unsettled than happy—the wedding facilitator. He stood stiffly at the altar, as though he had been invited solely to watch everything unfold right in front of him.
"…" The wedding facilitator fidgeted with his fingers, darting his eyes between Lola and Atlas, who were kissing directly in front of him.
The kiss was sweet, mutual, and very deserved. But still… he was supposed to marry them, not stand here while they married themselves!
"Ahem!" he cleared his throat, flinching when Atlas's brow arched despite still pressing his lips against Lola.
Lola's brows lifted, and she reluctantly pulled away. She turned her head, blinking at the wedding facilitator.
"Uh…" She leaned closer to Atlas and whispered, "He is?"
"The wedding facilitator."
Her brows tightened. She glanced between Atlas and the poor man. "Really? He's been here all this time?"
