I glanced back at Jane again. She was still focused on the clipboard, speaking to Molly now, her voice low and even. She didn’t look in my direction.
“I don’t know what’s going on right now between you two,” Lucy added gently, reading my hesitation. “Just… give her a minute.”
A minute. Or an hour. Or until the wedding was over.
I nodded, even though it felt like agreeing to a step back that I didn’t want to take. “Okay.”
Lucy squeezed my arm once and disappeared down the hall.
I stayed where I was a few seconds longer, hoping Jane would look up again. She didn’t.
The message felt clear.
Not now.
So I turned away and followed Lucy, my steps heavier than they had been when I came in from the cold.
The rest of the afternoon blurred into a series of necessary tasks and half-conversations. Chairs were moved, then moved again. Programs were misplaced and found in time to hand out to guests. The runner had been removed when moving the chairs so it was placed back down again for the entrance of the wedding party.
I lifted, carried, adjusted, and made myself useful in ways that did not require speaking to Jane. My soul grew heavier for it.
Every so often, I caught sight of Carly moving easily through the space. She spoke to people she had just met as if she had known them for years. She complimented the inn without sounding patronizing. She laughed at the right moments. She never once looked uncertain.
This was her world. Social navigation and effortless presentation.
She glanced over, catching my eye. A flash of guilt crossed her face before her expression became reverted back to her usual calm. I closed my eyes for a moment in pain.
I wondered if she knew what she had done. Or if she genuinely believed she had helped.
Carly often thought she was helpful and helping when she wasn’t. She interfered with little remorse because she generally was right and she genuinely cared. The problem was she had meddled into something fragile and new. Something I desperately wanted and this time, I wasn’t sure if I could forgive her if my chance with Jane shattered before we could really try.
The thought sat uneasily in my chest.
Dex caught up to me near the back hallway, holding a folded schedule.
“Client called,” he said quietly. “Nothing urgent. Just reminding us the proposal deadline in a couple of days is still firm.”
I nodded. “Figures.”
He studied me for a second. “You look like someone who knows he messed up.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped me. “Is it that obvious?”
“With Jane,” he guessed, tilting his head to the side and studying me.
“Yes.”
Dex leaned against the wall beside me. He didn’t rush the conversation or even ask for details. Dex was a solution orientated person. “You're going to talk to her.”
“After the wedding,” I said. The words came out more certain than I felt. “She doesn’t need another complication at the moment.”
“That is probably true,” Dex said. “She is carrying a lot.”
“I added to it,” I admitted.
Dex clapped my shoulder once. “Then you apologize. Clearly. Without explaining it away.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan.”
