WHEN THE PASTOR TELLS THEO he can kiss his bride, I slam my eyes shut, unable to observe the end of the most vulnerably raw and absolutely beautiful wedding I’ve ever witnessed. Tears slip out from beneath my lashes because, even though I can’t see their kiss, I can feel it. I think everyone in this tiny chapel can feel it.
Finally, I open my eyes and I can’t help but smile at Leslie as she beams from ear-to-ear with tears in her eyes. She lifts Marisa up between her and Theo, and they both kiss either side of her cheeks simultaneously. Cameras flash wildly as the small congregation of less than fifty people all “aw” in unison at the perfectly beautiful little family.
The wedding was gorgeous. Simple, but in no way understated. That wouldn’t be Leslie. Punches of colour explode everywhere from the wildflower bouquets, to the bold multi-coloured bridesmaids’ dresses, to the unique fitted men’s suits.
Hayden wears his better than every man up there.
Damn him all to hell.
I spent the last couple of days psyching myself up for my first sight of him. I envisioned him looking cold and detached, similar to how he appeared the night of the gala only six weeks ago. How could our story have only lasted six weeks? Somehow it feels like no time and tons of time all at once.
My expectation of him today was that he’d continue to block me out and further drive the stake through my already hardened heart.
What I didn’t expect was for him to look so…concentrated.
The three times I mistakenly locked eyes with him during the service felt like we were frozen in time. In those moments, he was showing me the same passionate, intense, brooding, possessive man who threw a fit over me nearly kissing Ethan. I thought I could be strong enough to not let his presence consume me, but he’s messing everything up by looking at me the way he is. I think he stared at me through twenty-five of the thirty minutes worth of ceremony. I have no idea what he’s after, but I pray that he knows the damage done last week is irreconcilable.
Irreconcilable.
The congregation stands to file out of the church. I catch sight of Leslie and Theo, along with the rest of the bridal party forming a reception line in the narthex.
“Great,” I groan quietly.
“You’re fine. Only a couple more hours to go,” Gareth mutters under his breath.
I offer a shaky smile to my brother who’s dressed in a black fitted suit. Several people turn and gawk at him as we meander through the line.
“You could have dressed down a bit. I told you this would be a small, casual wedding.”
He frowns down at me. “I’m not wearing a tie.”
I roll my eyes. “Gucci is hardly casual.”
His eyes narrow as he looks over my shoulder. A playful smirk teases his lips, so I turn to see him catching a sensual gaze from a tall, busty brunette.
“Nice,” I croak.
“Hey, I’m here for moral support, but I’m no bloody saint.” He flashes Busty a megawatt smile.
“Can you at least keep it in your pants until we get through the reception line? Hayden is right there.” The pain I feel saying his name is acute.
Gareth frowns and his flirty eyes suddenly turn serious. “You’ve got this.”
Do I? I think to myself just as we reach Leslie.
“Vilma!” she sings happily. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She yanks me into a tight hug. Her arms are firm and solid around me. She pulls back and looks into my eyes with a pensive expression. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”
I shake my head dismissively. “I wouldn’t miss your wedding, Leslie,” I say just as Theo finishes with the couple in front of us and looks at me. “You’re too damn needy for me to avoid anyway.”
Theo laughs and casts his twinkling, happy eyes down at his blushing bride. “I can vouch for that. And now I have two of them.”
We glance over at Marisa as she smiles from the arms of Theo’s parents, whom I met briefly at the gala last month.
“Guys, this is my brother, Gareth Harris. I’m not sure you’ve all met.” I turn to my brother as he moves in closer.
Theo’s eyes fly wide. He pulls his glasses off as if to confirm that who he’s looking at isn’t a mirage. “Gareth Harris, for Man U? Bugger. I’m…Yeah, I’m a fan.” Theo stammers as he cuts accusing eyes at Leslie. “Leslie, how could you not mention who Vilma’s brother is?”
She purses her lips and shrugs as if the thought never once occurred to her. “I don’t watch soccer! How am I supposed to know he’s a big deal?”
“He’s like…Beckham big deal, babe.”
“Posh Spice’s husband? Oh, shit! He’s hot!” Gareth and I burst out laughing, and Leslie bites her lip and covers her mouth. Theo shakes his head at her as she says, “I’m sorry, Gareth.”
Gareth chuckles. “No offence taken. I’m not as big as Beckham,” he winks playfully.
“You should be offended. I’d like to apologise on behalf of my wife for this entire encounter. Keep up the great work. And good luck this season.” Theo and Gareth exchange a matey handshake. I attempt to walk by him, but Theo surprises me by pulling me in for a hug. “Don’t run,” he whispers in my ear. I pull back, my brow furrowed. “Just don’t run. It’s worth it,” he repeats, clearly unfazed by Gareth, whom I can feel shooting daggers behind me.
Doing my best to shake off Theo’s unexpected propaganda, we greet the rest of the bridal party, including Frank. “Christ, Vi. You look as if you belong on every teenage boy’s splattered ceiling!”
“Frank! You’re disgusting,” Finley crows and whacks him on the arm. “Hi, Vi! You look beautiful.”
We exchange pleasantries with the rest of the family. But just when I think we’re going to graze right past Hayden since his back is turned, Frank clears his throat loudly and unsubtly barks out, “Hayden, you wanker!”
Hayden’s head pops up curiously and he turns. His serious grey eyes find mine instantly. Heat blossoms between us, and I feel a blush move up my neck and fill my cheeks. I glance down at his white button-down dress shirt, beige tweed-fitted trousers, and brown braces that Leslie says Americans call hipster suspenders. I’m going to ignore the fact that his trousers are tailored to his build within an inch of their life. I’m not going to notice the taut fabric of his cotton shirt around his muscular biceps. I don’t care about how he’s not wearing a tie, so two popped buttons reveal just enough of his sculpted chest to remind me of how he looks shirtless. And who really cares that his copper blonde hair is dishevelled in an artful way that makes it look like he’s just fucked someone’s brains out.
Deep breath.
“Vi,” he begins and reaches his hand out to me.
Before his fingers can graze mine, Gareth swoops in, turning his back on Hayden and firmly gripping the side of my arm. “We need to keep the line moving.” The set of his jaw is demanding, but looking at Hayden’s hopeful expression on the other side of him makes me pause.
“Just a minute, Gareth,” I say softly, my eyes never leaving Hayden’s.
“Vi,” he warns.
Ignoring him, I shove past his enormous frame and see a flicker of relief smear over Hayden’s face with my approach. Shooting him a tight smile, I stick out my hand.
“What?” Hayden asks, frowning down at my outstretched hand.
“A platonic handshake,” I offer, wiggling my brow.
He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing platonic about you and me, Bunny.”
I paint on a forced half-smile and grab his hand, clutching his cuffed wrist firmly with my other in warning. I move in so my voice is a mere whisper on his mouth. “Don’t call me that. You lost the right to call me that the moment you stomped all over my heart last week.”
Hayden’s face falls. “I need to talk to you,” he replies, eyeing my pink lips with a hunger that makes my inner sex kitten stir.
“You lost that right, too, Hayden,” I say, my belly fighting hard against the annoying fear of rejection that I still feel in his presence even though it’s me pushing him away right now. “You see, I’ve realised something this past week that you should know.”
“And what’s that?” he barks, annoyed.
My eyes turn to slits. “You’re no different than all the other men who’ve cast me aside for dead.”
His frustrated eyes turn glossy and panicky. “Of course I’m different,” he croaks. I move to step away from him, but his hand grips mine to the point that I could wince. “No, Vi,” his voice trembles.
I smile sadly at him. “None of this matters, Hayden. Just as I feel unlovable, you can’t accept love. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.” I move to walk away again, but he yanks me back toward him, his hand crawling around my waist in a desperate attempt to pull me against his body.
In a flash, Gareth is beside me, gripping Hayden’s forearms so hard I can see his knuckles turning white. “You’re done, Hayden,” he threatens.
Hayden instantly lets go, staring at me like I’ve just committed the ultimate betrayal. With that, I walk away, holding my head high and praying to the good Lord that he can’t see my shoulders shaking with my silent sobs.