‘Congratulations,’ I murmur into his hair, ruffling the sweaty curls with my free hand.
‘Thank you,’ he whispers into my shoulder and I peer around, checking for documentary cameras. They don’t need to capture this moment. It belongs to us, just us. Best friends who haven’t been around each other enough recently. My fault. Not his.
Thankfully, there’s not a camera in sight, but his fiancé is watching. He gives me a little wave and nods in approval as I hold the love of his life close to me. Maybe he knows how much I need this. Or maybe he knows I’ve not given Harper enough time recently.
‘Are you okay?’ Harper asks and I want nothing more than to break down and tell him how much I’m not, but I can’t. The only way to keep a secret is to tell nobody at all. I promised Jackson I wouldn’t tell anyone and I haven’t. Even when he lets me down, over and over again, I’ve kept my mouth shut. I know how volatile Harper can be, especially when someone he loves has been hurt this much, and in a very short time Jackson will take over from his father and become Harper’s boss. I won’t put Harper’s career at risk just because I got my feelings trampled on.
‘Yeah, just a bad day.’ It’s not a lie. I have had a fucking awful day. But not for any reasons I can give Harper.
He pulls away from my grasp, eyes scanning mine for the truth. He sighs as he steps back, and I can sense the tidal wave of disappointment washing over him. ‘I know this is really poor timing because Iknowyou aren’t okay right now, but I need you tomorrow. By my side. When I marry Kian.’
‘You what?’ He can’t be serious right now.
‘We’re tired of waiting. All week Elise and Grant have been helping us pull it together and tomorrow we’re going to tie the knot. It’ll be a small, intimate ceremony. Private.Reallyprivate. No press.’
I feel bad that he didn’t even ask me for help, and that Kian’s sister and brother-in-law have had to do all the work. I’ve been so focused on my own misery that I’ve been blind to what’s going on in his life. If it’s possible, I now feel even worse.
Even so, I can’t help but admire how brave he is to think he can pull this off. The day after winning his home race, two of the biggest racing drivers ever getting married, in private, is a lot to ask. But I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than at his side. No matter how much my own heart is currently hurting.
‘You know I’ll be there. You two are fucking crazy, but I’ll be there.’
* * *
Which is why, just eighteen hours later, I’m in a small dressing room at one of the most beautiful hotels in England, helping Harper with his bow tie.
A moment of silence flickers between us as I tighten the knot. It contains all the years we’ve been friends, the handful of times we’ve been something more, and all the love that’s brought us to this point. It’s weighty, but in a comforting, meaningful way. I wish I could be honest with him. But today is not the day for that. Today is about Harper and Kian.
Elise comes in wearing a beautiful lilac dress to tell us it’s time to head down to the marquee. I tell Harper I’m proud of him, we hug one last time, and then we go.
Kian’s niece and nephew walk down the aisle first in matching outfits. I can feel the other guests melting at how adorable they are. Harper and I follow and when we get to the front I stand by his side as he watches Kian and Elise walk down. I watch Harper’s expression as his soon-to-be husband approaches and I am ashamed of the big black hole that opens up inside my chest. I’m not jealous and I’m not afraid of losing Harper to Kian. I’menvious. I envy what they have together because I want that for myself. I want a man who loves me the way they love each other. I wish I could feel nothing but joy for them, but I feel so utterly and completely sorry for myself that I can barely breathe. I hope one day I can look back on this scene and treasure it for my best friend’s sake, but it won’t be today.
I refuse to ruin it for them by drawing attention, though. I bury my longing and my envy, my hurt and my shame. The years of modelling gigs pay off big time as I force my signature smile and let everything else wash over me.
Of course, Kian and Harper have written their own vows. They talk of the love they share and will share until the end of time, of the good and the bad times, of the pride they have in each other, of how they can’t wait to make more memories, ofhow they want to grow old together.
The photographer catches every angle and I’m sure in the background he’ll capture my tears. They’ll be noted as happy tears for my best friend. Everything will look exactly like it’s supposed to, and no one will ever know how empty the day makes me feel. How alone. So alone.
Alone, when supposedly I’m in a long-term relationship with someone who’s meant to love me like this pair love each other, but it takes watching Harper and Kian vow to spend the rest of their lives together to make me realise what a big, fat lie that is. Love isn’t supposed to make you feel like this. It’s supposed to make you feel likethat, I think as I watch Harper and Kian seal their marriage with a kiss then break away and smile as the guests clap and cheer.
Jackson won’t even give me a date, never mind the promise of forever.
There’s photo’s on the lawn. Group ones, family ones, groom shots and then ones of me and Harper– and then me and the happy couple. God, it’s miserable. I can’t even look at the camera screen as the photographer shows them off to us. I’m afraid I will see all the pain reflected in my eyes.
I drift through the rest of the reception, going where I am told, smiling whenever someone holds up a camera. I eat steak and the creamiest of mashed potatoes and make conversation with any and everyone. I make jokes and laugh at other people’s stories, because it’s important to me that no one knows what’s really going on inside me. How could I tell them that on the happiest day of my best friend’s life, I feel like I’m dying inside?
I tune back in to the conversation around me.
‘It was a beautiful day,’ I comment, lights twinkling around us. Hard to go wrong with a simple comment like that, right?
‘What, my win or this?’ Harper gestures to the room of guests. It’s not a huge, celebrity wedding, but there’s more than a handful of famous faces. It’s intimate, hand-picked, special. Every single person here matters to the happy couple. I swallow painfully.
‘Both, I guess, for you.’ The laugh I choke out is forced and he eyes me speculatively. It’s a look with which I’m becoming all too familiar. Ever since I first hooked up with Jackson, something’s been different between us.
He knows something is going on– he’s known for some time– but even when he’s pushed me about it, I haven’t given him much. I want to, I always want to, but Jackson wouldn’t like it and it’s not fair to ask Harper to keep a secret from Kian. I’m competitive and I want to win the Championship, but not by messing with the dynamics of Team Hendersohm.
‘It’s really quite something to be on top of the world in both my personal and professional life,’ Harper says. ‘You wanna talk about what happened yesterday?’
I know he means my P10, but I can’t tell him that it’s because I’m so in my own head, so mentally fatigued, that my racing is suffering. And I can’t tell him why. So, I shake my head. ‘Not today, Harps. Today is about you and everything you’ve achieved. Congratulations, my friend. You deserve it. You both do.’ I even manage to squeeze out a cheeky grin. ‘I’ll get the next one.’
