I carried Sloane back to her car that night. She didn’t wake up. She didn’t stir. She was too exhausted from dealing with her grief to wake up.
I drove her back to my place after I realized I would never get her back into her place without waking her. I figured, after she slept for an hour or so, she would wake up, and then she could drive herself back home in her car.
She never woke up though.
I placed her in my bed and fell asleep on the couch, waiting for her to wake up.
The next morning, she was gone without a word, which didn’t surprise me. What did was how early in the morning she’d left. I’m always awake before the sun. She woke up and left before I did.
I haven’t spoken to or seen her in almost two months. The wedding was postponed after her grandmother’s death to give her time to mourn, to heal. I’ve been busy with winning a couple of surfing competitions. There haven’t been any wedding-related events that I’ve had to attend. But that’s not why I have stayed away. I’ve stayed away because I’m torn.
Sloane doesn’t make anything clear. I can’t read if she really loves Wes or not. And, since I can’t tell how she feels, I don’t know how I want to pursue her or if I want to pursue her at all. Not because I’ve had a change of heart. I still want to destroy her. I still want to steal her heart. I just need to give her time to realign her loyalty to Wes because, after that night, I know I could have had her in my bed. I laugh because I did have her in my bed. But she would have fucked me that morning if she had stayed. That is why I suspect she left before I woke up.
I also know the longer that I stay away, the more she will think about me. The more she will build up that night in her head as being either one of the most meaningful moments in her life or something that makes her hate me even more. Either way, when I walk into the church and see her again, her emotions will be amplified, which will make them much easier for me to read. The only problem with my plan is that my ability to control myself is dwindling. I want Sloane more than ever, and even if it’s not the right time to steal her heart, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to resist her.
I get out of my pickup truck and walk toward the beautiful stone cathedral where the rehearsal dinner is to be held, and the rehearsal is to take place on the beach just outside the building. It’s a beautiful building, but it is nothing compared to the beach.
If I were getting married, I would do it on the beach with as few people as possible. I laugh. Not that I would ever get married. But, from the number of cars parked in the parking lot just for the rehearsal, I know that this wedding is going to be a big affair.
I enter the church and immediately feel everyone’s eyes turn to me. I look down at how I’m dressed in the same shorts and button-down shirt that I wore the last time I saw Sloane. I thought I was dressed up enough for a rehearsal. I was wrong.
I glance around the room at the suits and formal dresses that everyone else is wearing. But I don’t apologize for wearing something casual. I’m not going to bother spending money on something that I’d wear once and then never wear again.
“You made it,” Wes says to me, holding out his fist that I bump against mine.
“Of course, man. This seems like quite the ordeal here,” I say.
Wes smiles. “Yep. This is heaven to me. Everyone that I care about is here, and tomorrow, I’ll get to marry this amazing woman,” Wes says while wrapping his arm around Sloane’s waist.
She smiles at me while holding on to him. I hate watching her with him. I hate it. But, other than picking her up, carrying her over my shoulder, and literally kidnapping her, I don’t really have a choice at the moment.
“It’s good to see you again, Sloane. Excited to get married tomorrow?” I ask.
She stands in front of Wes, and he possessively puts his arms around her, which seems strange for her to allow when she is such an independent person.
“Of course she’s excited. Aren’t you, honey?” Wes asks.
Sloane nods, her smile never faltering. She looks like a happy bride on the brink of marital bliss as she stands in the arms of her fiancé in a white lace dress that makes her boobs look amazing and her legs long and lean. But she’s not happy. I know her well enough to know that, no matter how much she loves Wes, she’s not happy with him, and she won’t be happy marrying him.
She’s made my decision for me. I must steal her before she gets married tomorrow. I’ll actually be doing her a service. She’ll have to deal with the pain for a couple of days to avoid a lifetime of unhappiness.
“I’m sure she is,” I say, sticking my hands in my pockets to keep myself from ripping Sloane out of Wes’s arms.
The minister begins waving Sloane and Wes toward the front of the church.
“I guess that’s our cue to go,” Wes says, grabbing hold of Sloane’s hand and leading her to the front of the church where the minister stands.
I follow slowly behind, keeping my hands in my pockets and staying on the outskirts of the crowd that is gathering around the couple.
“I’m Dean, the minister who will be conducting the ceremony tomorrow. Tonight, we are just going to run through the rehearsal, so everyone knows what they will be doing tomorrow. Then, you will be able to enjoy the dinner that the bride and groom are providing you.
“There has been a change of plans due to the weather tomorrow. Due to the extreme heat, we will be having the ceremony as well as the reception inside the church.”
My eyes go to Sloane. She doesn’t give away any hint of sadness. Or at least she doesn’t think she is giving away any hint that she doesn’t want to get married inside this damn church instead of out on the beach. But the people who know her well or take the time to know her at all can tell. I can tell even if there wasn’t the tiniest bit of welling in her eyes. I can tell that this isn’t what she wants.
The minister continues to talk about how the rehearsal is going to happen and what everybody needs to be doing, but I don’t listen. All I can see is Sloane. How she kisses Wes. How she mirrors his movements. How she is anything but independent when he’s around. It’s bizarre—her behavior.
People start moving into positions, and I follow Wes to the side of the church. Wes says something to me and his other two groomsmen standing behind me. I nod automatically and then follow Wes when he walks out into position. I stand next to him with the other groomsmen standing behind me. We all know where to stand, despite none of us listening.
Music starts up, and the bridesmaids begin walking toward us. It seems to take forever to get them down the aisle even though there are only three of them. Then, they stand opposite us. All beautiful, of course, but none beautiful enough to make me give up my plan to steal Sloane. She is my only focus.
The music changes, and Sloane finally starts walking down the aisle. She’s beautiful, of course, as she walks down the aisle by herself. Her blonde hair seems to blow, as if a fan were directed on her the whole time she walks. Her skin seems to glow. Her eyes though are what interest me the most. Everyone else who sees her walking down the aisle assumes she is looking at Wes, holding his gaze.
She isn’t though. Her gaze is on me.
Sloane looks at me the whole time she walks down the aisle, and her eyes tell me everything. That she wants me to rescue her. To save her from this. I grin because that is exactly what I’m going to do.
Sloane makes it down the aisle and goes through the motions of the ceremony as the minister explains everything that is going to happen. And then he calls for everyone to do everything again. Everyone sighs and moans quietly to themselves. With large fake smiles on our faces, we all go through the motions again while being completely bored out of our minds.
The only positive thing I get out of it is being able to study Sloane as she walks. Every curve of her gorgeous tan skin. Every curl of her blonde hair. The green color of her eyes. The confidence in which she walks or does anything.
The minister finally dismisses us, saying that we can all head into the dining hall where we can enjoy a dinner on the bride and groom. I head into the dining hall with the other groomsmen. I take a seat at the same table as they do even though I know they all want to punch me in the face. I’ve learned though not to take it personally. It is just the reaction I provoke in people.
Waiters start bringing out the first course of soup and salad. But the happy couple still hasn’t made their appearance. I pick at the salad. I’ve never been one for eating anything remotely healthy.
The waiters take the first course away and start serving the main course of chicken and vegetables. I scan the room but still don’t see where the bride- and groom-to-be are. A few other people have noticed, too. I can see the worry and anxiety on some of their faces.
I get up from the table and hear a woman say to her husband, “It’s strange that the bride and groom haven’t made it to the rehearsal dinner yet.”
The husband laughs. “They are probably just doing it in a back room somewhere.”
I feel a tightness in my chest as I think about that possibility. It’s never bothered me before when the women I was trying to steal slept with their fiancés. But knowing that is what Sloane could be doing drives me crazy. I don’t want Wes touching her or kissing her or fucking her. I don’t want him anywhere near her. She’s mine.
I start walking back to the chapel where the rehearsals took place, as it was the last place that I saw either of them. The second I enter the chapel, I hear their voices ringing throughout the room. I’m surprised that we couldn’t hear them arguing from the dining room just down the hallway from here.
“No, we aren’t postponing until the weather cooperates so that we can get married outside!” Wes shouts.
“But it’s important to me!” Sloane shouts back.
“Isn’t being married more important than where we get married?” Wes shouts.
“Of course, but this is the one thing I care about. The beach reminds me of my grandmother, which is why I want to get married there instead of in this church.”
I slowly walk up, trying not to be noticed, but they both seem so entranced in their arguing that I don’t think they would notice me, no matter how loud I was being. They start walking, and I keep following. Sloane starts running out of the church, visibly upset and shaking with anger.
“I’m so tired of hearing about your grandmother. We postponed the wedding in the first place because of your grandmother’s death. I don’t think we have to do everything because of your goddamn grandmother.”
Tears well in Sloane’s eyes, and I can’t stand it any longer.
I start to move forward when Sloane says, “I can’t breathe.”
“Sure you can. You just don’t want to admit that you’re wrong, and I’m right.”
But Sloane truly can’t breathe. Her face is turning bright red, and she falls back to the ground. I run forward at the same time that Wes does. Her face has started to swell.
“Sloane, what’s wrong?” I ask.
But she can’t answer me. I can tell she is running out of oxygen fast. I pinch her nose and lower my mouth to hers, breathing a breath into her, but the air barely seems to make a difference.
I feel something sharp hit my neck, followed by a buzzing sound. Bees. She must be allergic. I grab her purse that is lying next to her.
“Call 911, Wes,” I say as I dig through it and find the EpiPen that is inside.
I quickly read through the instructions, but I know I’m running out of time. So, I remove the cap and then jab it into her thigh, like the instructions say.
“Come on, Sloane, breathe. You’re going to be fine. Just relax, and try to breathe.”
She slowly takes a breath and starts to sit up. My heart slows when I see that she is going to make it.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I nod, but saving her did nothing to stop my own anger. If anything, it just made me angrier. I help Sloane to her feet and then over to a bench outside the church where she can wait for the ambulance to come and check her over. And then I turn toward Wes, who is standing next to the bench, and I punch him square in the face. He completely falls back, startled by my punch.
“You don’t deserve a woman like Sloane,” I say, staring at Wes now lying on the floor, still in complete shock.
I turn to face Sloane as the ambulance pulls up. “Don’t marry him. Not because I want you and am desperate to claim you, to fuck you, but because you deserve better than an asshole dick of a man who doesn’t understand how important your grandmother is to you. You don’t have to choose me, but don’t choose him either. You deserve love, not years of unhappiness.”