Rylee
Everyone seems to want my attention at the rehearsal dinner. Either for a quick photo or to talk about Jase. The problem is that he keeps getting pulled to the other side of the room with people who want to meet him.
His eye catches mine every so often. At the beginning of the night, his eyes met mine, and a huge smile crossed his face as he gave me a flirty wink. But now dinner is over, and we’re all talking, his eyes drift over to mine, and his face is completely blank.
Every time I try to make my way to him, I get stopped. By the time I reach him, I know something is wrong because he’s distant.
"Go for a walk with me?" Maybe getting him away from everyone will help him relax and talk to me about what’s bothering him.
He follows me out to the beach.
I remove my shoes as we walk toward the water. "What's wrong?” He stops walking and stares out over the dark water, his hands in his pockets and a far-off look in his eye. "I have to leave before the wedding tomorrow."
My heart breaks. I knew he had to go back at some point, but I guess I assumed he'd stay through the wedding. After all, that was kind of the whole point of being here this week.
"There isn't any way you can stay for the wedding? It's tomorrow night." In my heart, I already know the answer. This is Jase. He wouldn't have said it if there was another option.
"I have to go now and get ready to catch the first plane off the island in the morning." He finally turns to look at me, but what I see isn't my Jase.
He's cold and distant. His eyes run over my face, and a glimmer of hope is there as he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. Then he turns and walks back to the hotel without a word.
What the hell just happened? This is not the Jase I've come to know. Did I do something wrong?
Oh god! My family was too much for him, or maybe it was the wedding. He thought I was throwing hints at him by having him help me with the photos the other day, and I spooked him.
I don't even realize my feet are moving until I’m back in the hotel, heading for my parents’ room. I need to talk to someone. I know they’ll be there, and I don't want to bother Avery since she’s getting married tomorrow.
By the time I knock on my parents’ door, I can't stop the tears rolling down my face. My mom doesn't ask any questions. She pulls me inside and onto the couch with her and holds me. She’s always been great at letting me cry and never says it will be okay or any of that other stuff. She just holds me, rubbing my back, and lets me get it all out.
These moments tend to stress my father out, as evidenced by the drink he pours himself rather loudly. It's another moment or two before I can sit up and tell my mom what happened.
"I never expected things to be perfect. It’s been seven years, and I understand what the military is and does. But why would he show up and be this perfect guy, more than anything I could have ever asked for, and then turn and leave so cold like that?"
"Sometimes weddings are a lot for men. Especially those who are serious about the one they’re with. It could also be he was mad he got called back when he was supposed to have the time off." My mom tried to justify it.
I shake my head because we both know she’s grasping at straws.
"He was the first guy who saw me, not my weight. Not the wall I put up, butme.I was comfortable around him in a way I’ve never been with a guy. I didn't need to hide behind the camera with him. Not only has he always supported me, but he was the reason I took the leap and opened my photography studio."
Not saying a word, my dad pours himself another drink. My mother seems to have a silent conversation with him behind my back, but I can't seem to care. Instead, I check my phone to see if maybe he left a text message or wants to say goodbye in the morning, but there’s nothing from him.
"Thank you for listening, but I'm going to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow, and this was the last thing I needed."
Standing, I hug my parents and walk to my room at the other end of the hallway.
I barely make it through the door before memories of him assault me.
I can still smell him in the room, and his shirt is on the bed. He left in such a hurry that he didn't even want it back.
Picking it up, it smells like him, and a new wave of tears falls. I force myself to get ready for bed, slip on his shirt and a pair of underwear, and climb into bed. I miss him so damn much. How did I think I could do two more years of this?
It would be easier to know he was mine, and I could call or text him when I needed him, but this feels like a breakup. Will the letters and emails stop, too? Will I never hear from him again?
I don't think my heart could take it because I’d be losing my best friend. It’s just too much.
Chapter 10
Jase
