How can she say that? It’s not okay. I just stopped our wedding while she was walking down the aisle.
“Fuck, Syd. It’s not. It’s not okay. It’s not supposed to be like this.” My chest hurts and I can’t catch my breath. Thank God she’s holding me because otherwise I’d be face-first on the floor by now.
“Says who?” She turns my face toward hers. “I don’t remember a set of rules being given to us and our relationship. Do you?”
This is the Sydney I grew up with. The woman whoplayed ball with the guys and told me to stop being a little bitch when my high school girlfriend broke my heart.
Emotions hit me before I can stop them, knocking the air out of me completely. I stand to my full height and raise my voice. Not at her butforher. “Says me! I promised him, Syd. I promised! We were brothers, and brothers don’t go against their word. When you have a bond like we did, your word means everything. Simple as that. It’s fucking betrayal.”
“Youarebrothers. Just because Ben isn’t here physically doesn’t mean he’s not here.” She taps my chest forcefully to relay the message.
Message fucking received.
“It was my job to take care of you,” I whisper breathlessly, my voice croaking through the sorrow. “He asked me to.”
“And you have.” She wipes the lonesome tear under my eye. “You’ve given me everything, East. Did I think we’d be getting married today? Yes. And as much as I hate admitting it now, Iwouldhave married you. You’re a comfort I’m not sure I can live without.”
The feeling is mutual. And I think that’s what fucked it all up for us.
I lead her to the sofa beside us and guide her next to me. I yank at the roots of my hair, hating myself for letting things get this far. “I’m so, so sorry.” There’s a heavy emphasis on my words. “I thought I could do it. I wanted to do it. To marry you, I mean. But fuck, Syd. I know I probably still should, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Or to you.” There’s nothing but pure kindness in her voice, and I admire her for that.
I’m not worried about me. She should be screaming at me right now, cursing me to hell. But this graciousness…it’s very…Sydney.
I don’t know why I expected anything different.
“You deserve to be happy, East. I want that for you, and I know Ben would, too. Things between us escalated out of grief. We both know that.” She exhales, a profound sadness in her voice that matches mine. “I think we were just too afraid to say it because we were already in too deep. You’ve been my best friend for my entire life, and when Ben died, you were all I had left of him. Your family was my family even before we were engaged. Co-dependence is common during grief, and we fell victim to it,” she continues.
Goddamnit. This hurts. Feels like losing him all over again.
“I care about you so much, Sydney. I hope you know that. I know I’m shitty with my words, but just know you deserve a man who will love you for you. I don’t want you to feel like I was ever using you. I didn?—”
“Never. You are the best man I know, Easton Voss. I know Ben would testify to that if he were here, too. Any woman will be lucky to be loved by you. But our story is over. I kinda think it never really started. And as much as that hurts me to admit, I know something better is ahead. For both of us.”
Pulling Sydney into a hug, I whisper against the side of her head, “And you are the best woman I know, Sydney Summers. You wereBen’svery best thing. And I’m a jackass for passing you up. Just know I’ll be rooting for you. For your happiness.”
She taps my nose playfully. “And you better promisemeone thing.”
Please be something simple.“What’s that?”
That’s when she stands and walks toward what looks to be her purse in the corner of the room, and pulls out two rectangular pieces of paper.
I know what that is.“Sydney, no. No. Anything but that.”
“Ah!” she quips, imitating a zipper sealing her lips with her hand. “You can and you will.”
“Are you hearing yourself?” I snap. “Shouldn’t we be fighting it out right now? You rolling my dead body down the vineyard hill?”
“What for? You and I have never fought. Not as friends and never as lovers. Why start now?”
I shake my head. “You’re killing me.”
“I know. Now take them. Go on the trip, Easton. Find yourself. Grieve. I meanreallygrieve. Let go of whatever guilt you have and focus on you. The hero complex is getting old.”
Hero complex?I’ve heard that one too many times.
I do nothing but stare at the two boarding passes in my hands. I don’t feel like I deserve it, but should I do it? Should I take this trip alone and see what happens?
