Along with the sheer joy I felt for them was a poignant ache in my chest. I wanted what they had so badly. I wanted a man to look at me the way West looked at Presley. I wanted someone by my side for the rest of my life.
I wanted all these things, but was I capable of accepting them?
As terrifying as it was to put all my trust into someone else, I was ready with every fiber of my being to try with Luke. But I was worried sick that I might’ve done irreparable damage.
During the thirty seconds we’d talked right before the ceremony, he hadn’t given me any indication that he was open to trying again. Anger had radiated off him, even though he’d been doing his best to keep it inside. I’d been able to feel it.
I knew I deserved his anger, but I also hoped he could find it in him to give me a second chance.
I tuned back in to the ceremony and realized I’d zoned out during the vows. The bride and groom were about to kiss. As they locked lips and the kiss went on, a dreamy sigh escaped me. When the bride and groom finally came up for air, the expression on West’s face was a mix of mischief, love, and happiness, eliciting laughter from the guests.
As the string quartet began the processional music, I hopped up. Back to work for me. I had to get through the next three plus hours before I’d know whether my planned grovel was enough to win Luke over.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Magnolia
Despite the state of my personal life and an underlying nervousness about my upcoming talk with Luke, I was riding a bit of a high as Presley and West’s wedding and reception ended, even though the only sip of alcohol I’d consumed was for the champagne toasts hours ago.
We’d sent off the ravingly happy bride and groom earlier, and the guests didn’t linger for long after their departure since it was Christmas Eve. We’d had enough food but not too much, the music had been on point, the barn was honestly a fantastic venue, and an atmosphere of love and joy prevailed.
My second successful wedding was in the books, and it felt tremendous.
The catering staff had done a thorough cleanup of the kitchen and all the tables while I’d packed up the lion’s share of Presley’s decor. Luke didn’t have a cleaning crew yet, so the plan had been for us to clean the rest after Christmas. The big question was, would there still be an us after Christmas?
Everyone else was gone now. The chairs from around the tables were stacked neatly along the wall near the door so they were ready to go into storage. I’d swept the entire main room and tidied up the getting-ready rooms to make sure no one had left anything behind. Now I was setting the scene for my talk with Luke.
Self-doubt set in deeper with every LED candle I moved to the far end of the barn, which had served as the dance floor during the reception. I kept moving them according to my plan though, with the goal of setting up a romantic backdrop.
Please let us get to the romantic part. Please let him hear me out and forgive me.
The very thought of tonight ending badly made me want to throw up, because I’d admitted it to myself—Luke was the one for me. If I couldn’t have him, I didn’t see how I’d ever want anyone else.
I’d moved two armchairs out from one of the rooms and situated them in the middle of a ring of more than two hundred candles from the reception. Presley had enthusiastically given her blessing for me to repurpose them for my mission, as she called it. I’d set up a Bluetooth speaker with romantic piano music in the background. It was a fine line between overdoing it with romance and making the barn feel homey and comfortable for the most important discussion of my life.
When everything was in place, I curled into one of the chairs, pulled my legs up under me, and texted Luke.
Magnolia: Come out to the barn?
Luke: Do you want to come inside to talk instead?
Magnolia: I have something for you out here.
He didn’t reply, leaving me to hope he was on his way out and not blowing me off. He’d been the one to bring up talking before I’d had the chance. If he wasn’t here in five minutes, I might break down and sob—again.
I was so tired of crying.
The barn door opened three minutes later. Hurdle one cleared. Only a dozen or so to go.
I turned to watch him cross the floor toward me, trying to read his mood. His face gave nothing away, but his body language conveyed fatigue and a hardness I hadn’t seen in him since we’d ended our eighteen-year cold war.
Not exactly encouraging, but it didn’t deter me.
“Hey,” I said, offering up a smile as he approached.
“Hey. What’s going on?” He glanced at the candle display in confusion and stopped between the two chairs but didn’t sit.
“Have a seat?”
