I want to laugh. I want to scream. Instead, I keep my mouth shut. That’s the real miracle today. Because all I want to do is sob into my hands when the doors open and Elle appears.
She’sradiant, walking down the aisle and looking like she owns every beam of sunlight. My lips pull down and I hold back my tears. Her brother should be here. He’d love to see this.
I’ll be in this moment and memorize every second for him.
But I’m afraid if I keep looking at her, I might really cry. So I stare at Sterling for a sec. He looks like he’s trying not to look stunned. His fingers do this slight twitch like he wants to reach for her but knows better. He does a good job holding still, all stoic and formal, like he hasn’t murdered half the criminal underworld for less than what she’s giving him with a glance.
I lose track of time after that, especially when Elle’s in my line of sight. In another world, I’d be standing beside her. In this one, I’m not. It’s probably for the best.
My eyes take in how happy she looks. Without a doubt, thisisfor the best.
The vows happen and hit me hard. I almost cry for real this time ‘cause Elle speaks like she’s reading a poem she wrote in blood. Sterling barely says anything, but it hits like a gospel. People cry. Alot of them do. But I don’t. Not because I’m too manly or whatever—I’m the guy who cries singing love songs in the shower—but because if I start now, I won’t stop. I’ll ruin the whole thing. And I won’t do that to Elle.
By the time the kiss happens, I’ve made up my mind. I’m getting on that fucking boat. The experiment cruise. Because Damon has Kaye. Sterling has Elle. And me? I’ve got some fucked-up memories that don’t know how to die.
***
The reception’sworse.
Everyone’s glowing and grinning. But I’m parked at the buffet, trying to bury my existential spiral under a mountain of carbs.
The food’s phenomenal. Lechon—a whole roasted pig, crisped to a sinful crunch—is just juicy meat falling off the bone. Ube cake so good I contemplate marrying it. There’s mango float too.Fuckin’ gimme.
People clink glasses. Some of them are probably decent. Some are innocent relatives, blissfully unaware there’s dangerous people here.
But seriously, this whole thing istoonice. The sort of nice that makes your skin crawl when joy feels like a personal attack. So I hover near the AC, sweating up a storm.
Also, this is where the cake is. So, y’know,priorities.
I keep stealing slices, trying to drown heartbreak with dessert. It’s not long after that Sterling finds me. I almost shit bricks when I find him sitting down at my table. He tries to tease me for sipping frozen coffee. I tell him he’s a black cat in a tux. He grunts.Almostsmiles. Which, for Sterling, is practically an orgasm.
Then he reaches into his jacket. And I freeze.Shit, he’s been able to read my mind this entire time, hasn’t he? He’s gonna go dokkaebimode and kill me on the spot. Make an example out of me for eventhinkingof his wife.
Totally worth it.Goodbye, cruel world—
I almost close my eyes and accept my fate. But instead, he pulls out something else. Tosses it onto the table. He does it casual as hell, like it doesn’t matter. But itdoesmatter. Because it’s my old phone. Or what’s left of it.
I pick it up and flip it open. The screen’s cracked. My stomach twists. The hairline cracks look like a spiderweb across the glass screen. There’s a photo still set as the background. From another wedding venue. Elle’s there, wind in her hair, and smiling ‘cause she doesn’t know what’s coming. The mirror room. The pills. Clo watching. And in the picture, I’m grinning like an idiot beside her. We didn’t know how much worse it’d get. The cracks cut through us. Right down the middle.
I look at Sterling. His face is blank as usual. Casually handing me a piece of my past trauma like it’s a misplaced little thing I left behind. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He wouldn’t care. That’s just who he is. Stoic, cryptic, and completely unbothered by the fire he lobs at your soul.
Still, I say, “Real classy, Silver. Nothing sayshappy endinglike returning property back, all broken with bloodstains.”
He shrugs. The Sterling equivalent of closure.
I pocket the phone. And say nothing else. Because what the hellisthere to say?
Four rounds of food later, and the plates in front of me warn me of an incoming food coma. I’ve stacked another three servings of pork and one more slice of ube cake to shut myself up. Every swallow’s a distraction. A bribe to keep my mouth from saying something stupid.
Across the reception venue, Sterling’s standing by Elle and lookingat her like she’s the first sunrise he’s ever seen. And Elle looks so damn atpeacenext to him.
They look good together. They really do.
Near them, Damon and Kaye aren’t even hiding that they’re eyefucking each other across floral centerpieces.
Idris walks up to both of them. They don’t even have the shame to quit it with the bedroom eyes.
I spear a cube of crispy pork belly and shove it in my mouth. Maybe salt and grease will soak up the jealousy.
