It’s so hard to admit you wasted your love on a guy who never wanted it. He led me on, telling me it was real, to avoid looking like the bad guy. How do I explain to Kaci what it felt like when Elijah didn’t even have the guts to tell me himself that he wanted out? When his parents were the ones to finally say he was embarrassed by me, that he wanted me to go quietly so social media wouldn’t make a scene?
“Because what?” Kaci’s hand closes around my forearm in a soft squeeze. “You didn’t finish your sentence.”
My breath comes shallow when I open my mouth. I don’t have to answer her. She doesn’t deserve an answer after the stunt she pulled, but she’s my sister. She needs to know why I’m backing out of her wedding at the last minute. “Because I hate it all.” Through gritted teeth, I add, “It’s a pointless waste of time.” I raise a shoulder in a slow shrug as I pretend to act bored, trying to conceal how my palms are trembling. “I’m just over him—so much so that I never want to see him again. I thought you, of all people, would understand.”
“I do.” She squeezes my arm again, as her face goes pale. “I mean, you’ve never really talked about it before. I didn’t think it would be this huge of a deal, but it’s important to Jackson to have Elijah there. They’ve become really close. Jackson never had friends on the team before. Being the goalie, he was always a loner. But if you really can’t do it, I understand.”
“What do you mean, you understand?” I narrow my eyes in a challenge. This has to be a set up.
“I mean, I can ask our cousin, Margie, if she wants to be my maid of honor. Sure, she’s older, but she's about your size, and she might be able to squeeze into your dress.”
“Margie?” I give her a side-eye. We both know Margie has no business being in a wedding party, let alone as maid of honor. She means well, but she’s a total ditz—constantly late, always forgetting things. Family legend has it that she even missed her own high school graduation because she was too “invested in a Netflix series.” She’ll never be there for Kaci the way she deserves. If I’m being honest with myself, and I hate to admit this, especially now while my blood is still boiling, Kaci deserves the best. Yes, she lied to me, but she’s been through a lot. Her first love left her while she was pregnant. She spent years working her way through college as a single mom. Apparently,we both have a history of picking the wrong first loves. But now she’s with a man who treats her—and her daughter, Bella—right. All I want is for her to be happy.
The pressure in my head swells and feels like it might burst. It's a lose-lose situation: If I miss my sister’s wedding, I miss my sister’s wedding.She’ll never get over that. Frankly, I know I won’t either.
If I show up, I’ll see Elijah.
I’m not sure I’ll get over that either, but at least I won’t have to see him every Christmas.
Swallowing my frustration, I remind myself Kaci deserves this day. It’s just one dayof bliss. “If you promise not to bring up the fact that we were engaged, and don’t hate me if I leave right after the grand march, I’ll do it. I want to be there for you.”
“You know I appreciate you so much.” She blinks back moisture in her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t exactly tell you sooner. I wasn’t sure how—”
“It’s okay,” I say, though my stomach sinks. I wasn’t feeling ill before, but maybe now I am? Perfect timing. Maybe I’ll be hospitalized and have a legitimate excuse to miss—
Stop it!
I scold myself and paste on a smile and look back at Kaci. She’s worth it. “You’re going to owe me so big after this.” I shake my head in a threatening manner.
“Don’t I know it.” She chuckles, then adds, “Remember we have a get-to-know-everyone dinner tonight before the bachelor/bachelorette party.” She hesitates, lowering her voice. “I’d love for you to still come, but just a heads up he’ll be there.”
My gaze floats to the dried lavender bouquet on the wall shelf
I never look at it.
That’s not true. I always look at it.
It mostly just annoys me.
I don’t dare touch it.
I pretend I didn’t spend hours fawning over the perfect stems to make that bouquet. I pretend to have forgotten it was meant to be my wedding bouquet. Pretend that I didn’t make it the night before I left town.
Which was supposed to have been the night before our elopement. It has nothing to do with the fact that no lavender has been allowed in this shop since last summer. I won’t ever touch it again, which is precisely why I won’t touch the dried crumbling stems on the shelf to move it.
My mom knew better than to move it while I was gone. So it looms over me, haunting me with all those broken promises. Just looking at it makes me want to cry.
I pull my gaze away, looking out the front picture window and take a deep breath. It’s going to take every ounce of strength I have to be in the same wedding as Elijah. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else but Kaci.
I can’t shake the feeling that this is the worst idea ever.
Elijah Jonas in the flesh. No, he’s not nude. I’d have fallen over dead if he were. I’m very much alive, and he’s wearing a tailored navy suit that is doing unforgivable things to my emotional stability while sending my blood pressure rocketing into another realm.
I’d imagined running into him a zillion times—usually after spotting some social media gossip about the latest model he was dating. His parents were clearly right when they told me he preferred to date “up.” Obviously, I had been beneath him. In every single mental episode of our reunion, he has his father’sreceding hairline and has lost at least one of his perfect teeth—preferably more, but definitely one of the front ones. I mean, he does play hockey for a living. A girl can dream.
In these fantasies, I’d flip my hair over my shoulder, the sun hitting my long strands so they literally gleamed, as I walked past him. His jaw would drop. Too distracted by his pining, he’d almost get hit by a bus. Or maybe he does get taken out by a bus? That could work too.
Sigh.
