Chapter Two
Brent had no idea how long he’d been staring into space, sitting on the edge of his bed. He could hear Riley and Emily moving around downstairs, going on with their lives, the hum of the house blending into background noise as he tried to process what had just happened.
This was supposed to be his wedding day.
He should have been married by now.
Brent felt as though he was standing in a thick fog, as if the rest of the world was a fuzzy blur of muffled noise and color. Close by, but not something he could reach out and touch. Not yet.
Eventually, he stood and shrugged his suit jacket off. He folded it like his mom had taught him years ago, smoothed the fabric down and set it on the edge of the bed where he’d been sitting a moment before.
Brent’s fingers slipped on the knot of his tie, clumsy and awkward, not entirely ready to cooperate. Frustration made him growl and tug it off without undoing the knot, pulling it over his head instead. He tossed it on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, tugging the tails out of the waistband of his pants.
His belt fought him as well, the buckle too fine, too delicate to undo when he couldn’t see past tears.
Shit. Was he crying now?
He hadn’t cried in a long time.
Riley had called around the police and hospitals as soon as they’d gotten back. Nothing. Rose just hadn’t bothered to show up.
He’d been abandoned. In front of everyone he knew.
The belt buckle gave way under his fingers and he shoved his pants to the floor, letting them pool there, done with being neat. The hire company could iron it and keep his deposit for the trouble. What the hell was the point?
Until today, Brent hadn’t thought that anyone everactuallygot left at the altar. He’d thought it was the wedding story equivalent of an urban legend, meant to scare potential grooms into behaving.
Be good, or be humiliated in front of everyone you know.
Riley had been there. Emily had been there.
How could he ever face them again? They’d both been so gentle coming away from the church, but Brent wasn’t sure he could handle more of that. More of feeling like a victim.
He’d already been there and done that. He hadn’t liked the way it felt then, and he didn’t like it now.
A knock on the door made him jump.
“I’m not dressed,” he called out automatically, though he wasn’t sure either Emily or Riley would care right now.
“Even better,” Riley said as he pushed the door open.
Brent blushed at the comment. It was almost enough to drag him out of his own self-pity for a moment.
The smell of cooking wafted in from the hall, making Brent’s stomach rumble. He hadn’t eaten all day, and while he still didn’twantto, his body had other ideas.
Riley had changed in the time they’d been back, out of the suit Brent had actually been shocked to see him in and into a loose-fitting linen shirt and a pair of jeans. That was… more Riley-like.
People called him a hippie as if it was a bad thing. Brent saw a man who was a lot smarter than the rest of them, and always had been.
Sometimes, he wished he could be more like Riley. As free and confident and at ease as he always seemed.
Riley could have been left at the altar every week and not cared. He would have just kept showing up, endlessly optimistic, letting it all roll off him like it was nothing.
Brent felt like he was never going to be ready to go to another wedding again. Not even someone else’s.
No one would have left Riley like that. He wouldn’t have picked someone who would. He actuallyhadchoices.
Riley could have had anyone. Brent was lucky to have anyone.
