“No, Charlie, everything is not okay. Kate has once again made a selfish decision that everyone supported no matter who it hurts, and I, once again, am being forced to take the brunt of it, bottle up my feelings, and spare Kate’s. As usual.”
He shifts on his feet. “Okay,” he says slowly, clearly uncomfortable by finally talking about our emotions in this family. We don’t talk about anything heavy or uncomfortable. And we certainly don’t talk about Kate being a jerk.
We just shove all of this down and smile and nod and let it fester secretly.
“Jane, can we talk in private please?” Mom’s tone is short, biting, impatient. And despite the scene I’ve caused and the uncomfortably awkward vibe around us now, I feel proud of myself for finally speaking my mind. Not nearly as proud that it’s the night before my sister’s wedding, but still.
But now all those emotions are starting to dissipate and I can feel the tears starting to well and my bravado slipping.
“Not right now, mom. I need to go.”
I’m not even four steps away from my family and Reid is already beside me. His fingers wordlessly link with mine. When he squeezes my hand, the first tear falls.
“You did great,” he whispers.
A second tear falls.
“I think I forgot my purse again,” I sputter through the emotion lodged in my throat. “But I can’t go back for it or I’ll look stupid.”
With his other hand, he wordlessly holds up my clutch.
“No you won’t.”
And just like that, the floodgates open and I’m full-on sobbing.
Because to him, it’s just a forgotten purse he grabbed so I wouldn’t have to. But to me, it’s a sign that he thought of me. That he was watching what was happening and knew I would need to go. That he had the foresight to grab my things so I can leave with my head held high and not have to slink back in to grab my purse just to get into my villa room.
To him, it might be a bag, but to me it means that someone, finally, thought of me.
And that someone officially has my whole heart in the palm of his hand.
Chapter 28
In any other circumstance, I would normally love the sun streaming in through the sheer lace curtains of my gorgeous Italian bedroom. But today, every chirp of the birds outside brings a new wave of anxiety through my stomach like I’m on a rollercoaster drop. Even if I did wake up next to Reid again this morning.
It’s Kate’s wedding day, and I blew up at her last night. At my entire family.
Reid sat next to me outside last night, an arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders as I cried, letting out the stress and disappointment and the anger and every emotion that I’ve been bottling up for years. He rubbed soothing circles on my back and whispered in my ear repeatedly that it was going to be okay and that he was right there with me. I eventually cried out all my tears and was so exhausted Reid had to half-carry me back inside to my room.
I grabbed his fingers as he started for his own room, asking him to stay with me. He didn’t hesitate to slide into the tiny twin-sized bed again and wrap an arm around me. His arm is still tightly around me this morning, and I really don’t want to leave the comfort of it.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I say quietly.
“Yes, you can,” he says.
“I don’t want to do this.”
“I know you’re stressed, but I know you’d never forgive yourself if you bailed out of your sister’s wedding.”
“I doubt she even wants me there today.”
“I don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you didn’t ask her yourself.”
I let out a heavy sigh. He’s right. I know he is. So I finally fling the covers off my legs and get out of bed. “Wait,” he says, reaching a hand out to grab mine this time. I turn to look at him with an arched brow in silent question. “Kiss for good luck?”
I laugh, but lean down and press a kiss to his lip before I grab my bridesmaid dress and shoes and walk solemnly down the tiled floors toward the main suite Kate is staying in. My garment bag is draped over my shoulder, my heels dangling from my other hand. Each step I get closer to the room requires another deep breath from me.
The door creaks as I open it, which is fitting considering I feel like I’m about to walk into a house of horrors. The speaker softly plays as Taylor Swift sings about getting married in paper rings. A woman is curling Elise’s dark hair. Another woman is brushing eye shadow over mom’s eyes. I keep looking around the room until my eyes land on both of my sisters standing together by the makeshift mimosa bar.
