Page 96 of Wedding or Not

“Oh. Yeah.” Of course we are. I’d actually forgotten that the world doesn’t yet know things are over between us.

Glancing around, I see some of the guests snapping a quick photo of us, but no one is obnoxious or intrusive. The focus isn’t on us right now, which is the way it should be. And a huge relief.

“Thanks for helping,” I murmur.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t mean that. I know the tent is their responsibility, not ours, but it feels like a disaster would reflect badly on us, which is why Natalie asked Jake for help.”

“I know that. He doesn’t mind, and neither do I. I agree it’s better to do what we need to do to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

I hate the way his voice sounds. So distant. So unlike who he really is.

The sound of it makes my eyes ache and swell again.

With a ragged sniff, I jerk my head away from Wes and try to hide my face with my hair so he doesn’t see.

So no one sees.

He makes a weird sound in his throat and uses his fingers to tilt my face back up toward his. “Have you been crying?” he asks with an inexplicable edge in his tone.

I gape at him. Literally gape. “Of course I’ve been crying!”

“But why?” His forehead is wrinkled, and the corners of his mouth turn down.

“Why?” My voice is far too loud, so I suck back my indignation enough to control it. “Why? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you seriously going to tell me again to not catastrophize? That I shouldn’t approach it with all this emotion?”

“No, I’m not!” He’s starting to look as tense and outraged as I feel. “But it’s not you who— You’re the one who decided⁠—”

“I’m the one who what? Made a mess of this whole thing? Do you think I don’t already know that?”

“I’m not blaming you! You feel what you feel, just like me, and we can’t necessarily control it. But it looks like you’re falling apart, and I don’t understand why.”

“Of course you don’t understand. Of course you don’t.”

“Damn it, Ella. Why are you being this way when I’m the one who— When you didn’t even allow me to tell you the truth?”

We’re both speaking louder than we should, but we’re not shouting. People nearby can probably hear the tone of our conversation but not the actual words.

“What does that mean? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means—” He makes a rough sound and turns on his heel so his back is to me. “Why are you acting this way?”

“Wes?”

This is strange. It doesn’t make sense.

The conversation in the car all fell into place with terrible inevitability, but this conversation isn’t. It’s like we’re playing a chess game without half the pieces.

It looks like he’s about to turn around and say something, but he changes his mind. He starts walking away.

And I can’t take it.

I can’t take another half-finished conversation and stifled admission of the truth.

This is too hard and too upsetting. It’s continually turning my entire world upside down.

Over and over again.