Chapter Twenty-One
Blake breathed a sigh of relief, sitting back and rolling his shoulders once he finished the last of the place cards. He’d been bent over the table for what felt like hours—though had probably only been about twenty minutes—writing out the name of every guest they’d invited.
He’d smiled when he got to Owen and Jude. The thought of Jude being happy with the man he’d wanted for so long made Blake’s heart soar. He deserved all the happiness in the world.
He was glad one of them had managed to find it. Maybe Blake’s happiness would have to come from watching everyone else’s life work out.
Sighing, he packed away the spare cards, invite list, and pens his mother had provided. His shoulders were killing him, but the neat pile of place cards he’d finished felt like a job well done.
Just as he was about to take five minutes to himself, he heard someone come into the kitchen.
Blake turned, hoping it’d be Rusty, his stomach twisting when he saw Megan. She’d apologized, but he was still hurting.
He moved to get up, about to make an excuse that he needed to set up the cards, but then noticed that there were tears running down her cheeks, black streaks of mascara trailing from her eyes.
Blake swallowed.
She was still his sister, and she was obviously upset. Whatever was wrong, he couldn’t justleaveher like this. Especially not on her wedding day.
“Megan?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her face. “Are you okay?”
“The band isn’t coming,” she said, sniffing. “They had us down for April because they assumed the wedding was on a Saturday. They only work Saturdays.”
“Oh,” Blake responded, not sure what else to say.
All things considered, if he had his time over, he would have gotten married by an Elvis impersonator in Vegas all over again. Weddings seemed like a lot of work.
“What am I gonna do?” she asked, looking up at Blake with more tears in her eyes.
Blake didn’t have an answer for that. Instead, he stood and moved over to her, bending down to wrap his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tight.
Hugs didn’t fix everything, but they didimproveeverything. That was the best he could think of right now.
“It’s not the end of the world,” he said softly. “My entire wedding took five minutes.”
Megan sniffed again.
“I just wanted one goddamn day where it got to be aboutmefor once,” she said. “But I guess that’s too much to ask. I feel so stupid now for fighting with you so much. Being in the spotlight isn’t fun at all.”
Blake frowned. “In the spotlight?”
“Obviously. You were the talented one.Look what Blake drew today,orBlake won an art prize, isn’t that great?”
Blake paused, absorbing what his sister was saying slowly, like sand filtering through an hourglass. He could feel those few words filling a hole in his understanding of the world.
Megan was jealous.
It was easily the most ridiculous thing Blake had ever heard, but it sure did explain a lot.
“Oh,” Blake said. “I… guess I never noticed that. I was too busy being mad that you got away with everything. Staying up late, going out whenever you wanted…”
“Because no one noticed,” Megan said. “You were the golden boy. The baby. Everything was about you from the moment you were born, and then you had so muchtalent, and I hated myself for not being like you. I was never good at anything.”
“I would have killed to be as likable as you were,” Blake said. It was the first thing that came to his mind, a thought he’d had a thousand times. “You had so many friends, you were so popular. I just had… myself, a sketchbook, and a set of colored pencils.”
Megan snorted. “Popularity only gets you so far.”
“Painting talent turns you into a middle manager who hates himself,” Blake pointed out.
