Michelle inhaled slowly, almost like she was preparing herself. Her grip on my hand tightened for a second before she let go.
“Mitch,” I murmured, nudging her with my elbow.
She blinked at me, as if just realizing I was still there.
“You’re here,” I said. “That’s what matters.”
Her mouth parted slightly, but she didn’t say anything.
I didn’t expect her to. Michelle wasn’t someone who talked about her feelings. But she felt things, whether she wanted to or not.
And I could see it written all over her face. She was anxious as hell, her gaze kept moving toward the exit. “Let me walk you to the bridal suite.”
“Right, yeah.” She gripped my hand tighter, her palms sweaty as we neared the large wooden door. “This is fucking stupid,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“What is?”
I released her hand and moved my fingers up her arm toward her shoulder, turning her toward me. She was beautiful. Every part of her face, yet the worry almost spilled out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed and took a breath, her weight shifting side to side. “I’m nervous. I don’t do things like this–everyone here is put together, rich, and doesn't have a backstory like mine.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her breath shuddering. “I don’t fit in.”
“Hey,” I said, my voice firmer as a flare of annoyance filled me. “These peoplelove youas you are, Michelle. Everyone has their own shit to deal with, so if you think everyone is put together, it’s an act.”
“What is this?” Fiona appeared, her brows furrowed as she walked up to Michelle and put an arm around her. “You’re nervous,” she murmured.
Michelle scoffed. “Not nervous. Just—” She let out a long exhale. “I don’t know. It’s a lot.”
Fiona studied her, then smirked. “You’re not about to run, are you?”
Michelle let out a quiet laugh, her shoulders releasing some of the tension. “No. You’d chase me down in those expensive damn heels.”
“Damn right I would.” Fiona flicked her hair dramatically. “And I’d tackle your ass so hard.”
A small, real smile crossed Michelle’s lips, but she quickly looked back out the window. “I’d never run.”
“Michelle,” Fiona said softly, “you don’t have to act like this isn’t a big deal. I know this is weird for you but I love you.”
Michelle stiffened. “I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Michelle sighed, dragging a hand through her hair.
Fiona watched her for a long moment before lowering her voice. “You’re my family,” she said. “You belong here. You’re walking your cute ass down the aisle to celebrate me getting married, okay?”
Michelle’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. She blinked a few times, her jaw tightening, but she gave a small nod.
I wasn’t sure if she actually believed Fiona’s words. But I knew she wanted to. “Hey, I’m gonna grab a seat,” I said, hating how I interrupted their conversation. They both looked at me, Michelle’s wide eyes filled with something I couldn’t explain. “You both look beautiful. I’ll see you after the wedding, alright?”
“Sure, yeah.” Michelle chewed the side of her lip as her pulse raced, and I wanted to comfort her so damn bad.
But I couldn’t. Not with the lines Michelle intentionally drew between us. With an awkward wave, I backed away, leaving them there to go find my seat. There were a few other guys from the team there and I plopped down next to Tate O’Donahue, one of the veterans on the team. Might as well use the time to get to know my teammates instead of worrying about Michelle.
Tate let out a long breath, staring at the front of the church like it held some answer. “I ever tell you I was scouted by the Mariners straight out of high school?” he said suddenly.
I blinked. “No. You never mentioned that.”
He smirked. “Yeah. Only lasted two months before I tore my rotator cuff. Rehab was a bitch, and when I finally got back to throwing again, they’d already moved on.” He let out a low chuckle. “So I had to start from scratch. Worked my ass off through the minors, got called up, bounced around from team to team. And now?” He lifted his glass. “Now, I’m just waiting for the game to tell me it’s time to go.”
