Chapter One
The air in the church had been subtly changing for the last half hour, and now Riley was beginning to feel unrest and annoyance behind him, people staring at the back of his head, practically drilling holes in it with their gaze alone.
He glanced over at Brent, who was still staring resolutely forward, as if nothing was wrong. His hand was trembling, though, twitching against the cobalt-blue fabric of his suit pants. The color was a good choice for him, contrasting with his strawberry-blond hair and showing off his strong shoulders beautifully.
He cleaned up nice. Riley had always thought he would.
“She’s not coming, is she?” Brent whispered, so softly that Riley wasn’t sure he’d heard it at first.
Riley got his phone out of his pocket and checked it again. No messages. No calls. Nothing.
No sign of Rose.
The sinking feeling that Brent had been left literally standing at the altar made Riley’s stomach turn. He didn’t want his best friend to go through that. Brent deserved nothing but happiness and joy in his life, after all he’d been through. Riley could hardly believe that anyone would do this to him.
But it looked increasingly like she had.
“No,” Riley said, hating to be the voice of reason in this case. His heart hurt for Brent. “No, she’s not.”
He didn’t know for sure what had happened, but being nearly forty-five minutes late for your own wedding without a single text or call meant she wasn’t coming at all. Riley was sure of that.
Brent nodded slowly, his hand trembling again. Riley watched him take a deep breath, his chest rising as he filled his lungs, and then falling as he let it out.
Brent shoved both of his hands in his pockets, a defensive gesture that reminded Riley of their teenage years, when Brent had been his shy best friend, a sweet boy who Riley had always wanted to drag out of his shell.
That hadn’t gone exactly the way Riley had expected, but here they were.
“Can you, uh… can you…” Brent swallowed.
Riley understood what he wanted, even if Brent couldn’t bring himself to say it. He put a hand on Brent’s shoulder, squeezing it tight, and then turned to the crowd behind him. A sea of faces confronted him, some confused, some annoyed, and some devastated, already sure of what was happening.
He made eye contact with his mother briefly, sitting near the front, ready to celebrate this milestone in Brent’s life. There was very little Angela Jules loved more than a wedding, and she loved Brent, too. Brent and Riley had practically grown up in each other’s houses.
“Sorry, folks,” Riley said, projecting his voice so it echoed against the walls. “Looks like this isn’t happening today. Thank you so much for coming, we’ll let you know when we reschedule.”
Even as he said it, Riley got the distinct feeling that they wouldn’t be rescheduling.
Thankfully, people started filing out of the pews without any argument or questions.
Riley turned back to Brent, his stomach in knots. If he felt bad, he could hardly imagine how awful Brent felt right now.
“You wanna wait until everyone else goes? Slip out the back? Lie down on the floor for a while?”
Brent huffed a laugh, but there was no humor in it. No happiness. An automatic response, and nothing more.
Riley reached out and shoved his hand in Brent’s pocket alongside Brent’s own. It was a tight fit for the two of them, but Riley wriggled his fingers until they were clasping Brent’s firmly, determined to stay with him until everyone had left and he was ready to go.
“I’m so sorry,” Riley murmured, not wanting anyone else to hear.
“It’s okay,” Brent said. His voice was shaking.
It clearly wasn’t okay.
“It doesn’t have to be okay,” Riley said. “You’re allowed to hurt.”
“I wanna throw up.” Brent swallowed thickly.
Riley wanted to wrap his arms around him and never let go, but he didn’t think Brent would appreciate that right now. Not in front of the stragglers still leaving.
