A growl gets caught in my throat.
“Now,” Luke says, spreading his fingers out over the air vent. “I get what you're saying about it only being two days. So what if it had been two weeks? How long are you willing to put your heart on hold? Put yourlifeon hold?"
I think about the upcoming weddings. Beau and Kirsten’s wedding is three weeks from today and, of course, Ashley agreed to be my date. I decide that if she doesn't come to the wedding, if I have to attend the event alone, I'll look for someone else to accompany me to Braxton and Maggie's wedding, which is the following month at a much larger venue, seeing that it's their first and hopefully—please, Lord—only marriage.
"If Ashley and I haven't reconciled in three weeks from now,” I say, “then I'll agree to go out with someone else after Beau's wedding."
Luke claps his hands and rubs his palms together like I just presented a challenge. "And I, my dashingly handsome twin, will have a hot double date lined up just for the occasion."
He doesn't sayifAshley doesn’t reach out. He doesn't even acknowledge the fact that there's a stipulation to this whole rule, and just for that, I want to smack him upside the head.
Instead, I spot my lucky ball as it shoots from the return and snatch it back up like it's my very claim on Ashley.
This time, I'm not so confident as I release it. I’m reluctant because I’ve already let go before.
I gulp, watching as it catches light in its fast path, moving closer to the edge the farther it goes.
Just before it can nick the farthest pin, it drops off-course with a clunk.
Superstition aside, I can't help but think it's a sign.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ashley
"Thanks for helping me at such short notice," Annica says as I inflate a pearl-colored balloon.
I hate to admit it, but the color reminds me of the time I tried to pry open the flip-lid at camp. Why? Because I was wearing pearl-colored nail polish that day, something I noticed when Liam asked if I was going to break a nail in my attempt.
Wow, what a stretch. I’m a pathetic person who’s hanging onto the memories like they’re in limited supply. The sad fact is, that memories of Liamarein short supply.
I pull the balloon from the nozzle and tie it off. "I'm happy to do it." The word happy really shouldn’t be in my vocabulary right now, but Annica knows what I mean. It’s good for me to have a distraction.
Tomorrow's couple requested a balloon drop from a sheer canopy onto the floor. They were set on releasing the balloons after they saidI do, just as the groom first kisses his new bride.
But the photographer would kill her, Annica assured them, if she allowed anything to obscure the bride and groom duringa crucial moment. And then of course, there’s the safety issue to consider: the elderly guests who’d be seated on the front row would need an escortwithoutthe squeaking, bobbing, bumbling balloons getting in their way. Luckily, Annica talked them into saving the special moment for when the youth hit the dance floor in the final hour.
I can't help but think about the fact that Beau and Kristin's wedding is less than three weeks away. The mere thought is a heart stab. It's a heart shred, if I even have any whole parts left.
My reaction that night at Liam’s house in the driveway—wow,that was something else. And the crazy thing is, I regret it as often and valiantly as I defend it. The walking contradiction? Oh yes, I've got that down pat.
I wrap a sheer balloon around the nozzle this time and watch it speedily inflate. It’s the rate that my love for Liam grew—whoosh, boom, bam! He came, he saw, I fell fast in love, and he went.
Sure, I'm the one who pushed him away. Only this time, he isn't sending me a bunch of texts. I guess that since he did that the first time we broke up so many years ago, I sort of assumed he’d do the same thing.
The fact that he's not…well, I really don't know what to make of it.
I was prepared to tell myself—on the chance that Liamdidtext me, that he simply doesn't respect me enough to give me the distance I was seeking.
But since he’snotdoing that, well, of course, I feel rejected. Like I'm not worth fighting for.
These musings are the very reason I don't like myself very much right now. Who can respect a woman with thoughts this irrational running through her head?
I tug the inflated balloon off the nozzle a split second before the thing pops, then let a little air out so I can tie it off.
"Still no word from Liam?" Annica asks.
I shake my head.
