Cole nodded as Lottie took his arm, her pale blue dress, the twin to mine, shimmering in the afternoon sun that sliced across the drive.
‘Jesse,’ I called, keeping my voice soft. He hesitated for a moment, then turned back to me, waiting until I drew level with him. ‘I’m sorry for earlier. It was a lot – I didn’t mean –’
He shook his head gently, meeting my eyes again briefly.
‘Nothing to be sorry for,’ he whispered, his voice rough. ‘Never is, honey.’
‘Then what?’ I urged, unable to bear the pain in his eyes.
He hesitated again.
‘I can’t . . .’ He looked back at me, burying his hands in his suit pockets. ‘I don’t know how to do this.’
A feeling of cold dread gripped my insides. Suddenly, the thought that Jesse was about to push me away felt like a gut punch.
‘What do you –’ I began, stopping as he finally gave in, turning fully and taking his hands from his pockets to hold mine instead.
‘I don’t know how to pretend, Jessica,’ he murmured, looking all over me, his eyes like fingertips over my skin. ‘Like I don’t think you’re the most beautiful, incredible woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know how to give you space or time or whatever you need right now . . . because I can’t not touch you, or not want to be with you.’
I just stared back at him, floored by the force of feeling in his voice, how he so clearly meant it with his whole heart.
‘Guys?’ Lottie called, forcing us back to reality.
Gradually, he let go of my hands, a space opening up between us as we walked to the truck, together but apart.
And amid the occasional concerned glances from Lottie, the small talk and greetings as we arrived at the wedding venue, that’s how we continued. Forcing my thoughts to stay in the moment, right there with everyone, the wedding itself didn’t prompt the anxiety it could’ve. Cole’s brother Jay and his new wife, Lianne, were so clearly in love, their families and friends all in tune with those vibes, that I almost relaxed.
But I kept my eyes down, never daring to stray close to Jesse despite our physical proximity. I felt his presence like a guiding hand on my back, his gaze on me throughout.
It wasn’t until after the dinner, as evening stole over the party during Cole’s short and sweet speech, that I started looking up. As his words became more personal, bringing tears to both Lottie and Lianne’s eyes, it hit me. This was going to be Lottie and Cole sometime soon.
And I couldn’t do this to her. I had to find a way to show up for both of them, and . . .
‘Come with me,’ Jesse asked, holding out his hand as he stood. ‘Please.’
I wanted to run. My response to emotion was so engrained that refusing it brought flutters of panic up from the depths.
But I couldn’t.
I placed my hand in his, and we navigated the packed dance floor towards the open double doors leading onto a vast wooden deck. The venue backed onto the beginning of the wilderness, facing away from Jackson’s lights. As Jesse led me outside, the Wyoming night subsumed us, everything behind fading away. The deep velvet sky was studded with infinite stars, the towering mountain peaks the only true blackness against it. The coolness of the air was offset by his warmth as he drew me close to him.
‘Are you doing okay?’ he asked, one hand gently circling my waist, the other brushing against my arm.
‘I think so,’ I whispered, my heart racing, not able to help myself leaning into him, overwhelmed by the sensation of peace as we stayed that way. As the moments passed, he rested his chin on my head, and I could feel him working up to something.
‘Why won’t you let me in?’ he whispered, his lips brushing my hair.
I closed my eyes, not wanting the peace to end but drawing back a little.
‘I have,’ I replied after a moment, looking up, biting my lip as he locked me into his gaze. ‘That’s the problem,’ I added, my throat threatening to close.
He frowned, his fingers brushing my jaw.
‘Did I do something that last night we spent together?’ he asked, his eyes flashing to his wrist, to the tattoo that lay under the shirt cuff. ‘Since then, I . . .’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong,’ I whispered, laying a hand over his heart. ‘It’s me. It’s always me. My fault.’
‘Hestia, stop.’ His voice was pained, his beautiful face shaped by it. ‘Just tell me what’s going on.’
