Chapter 13

Rhys

 

If there was one thing I’d learned at my sister’s wedding and at my own, it was this: the rehearsal was where stress came to a head. My sister and her fiancé had gotten hammered at theirs, which led to a screaming match in the parking lot. My dad and I had been circling each other like sharks over some unresolved issues that had nothing to do with me marrying Derek, and those issues had exploded into us shouting at each other for twenty minutes before dinner. I’d heard plenty of horror stories from other weddings too. It seemed like if there was any trouble brewing, it either came out at the rehearsal and everything was fine the next day, or it simmered until the wedding and blew up at the worst possible moment.

By the time everyone had sat down to dinner at my rehearsal, Dad and I had run out of steam, and we talked things through later in the evening, and everything was great the next day. My sister and her fiancé had done the same. The arguments weren’t even that serious—they were just the result of weeks and months of stress snowballing into the eleventh hour before the wedding. Marinate all that in alcohol, and… Well, the results weren’t exactly a surprise.

So at Vanessa and Corbin’s rehearsal, I steered clear of any booze. I noticed Derek was doing the same, and I was grateful for it.

Sara, however, was not steering clear of it, and every time she cut her eyes toward me, I got nervous. Especially after her third or fourth pre-dinner drink.

We’d always gotten along, and though she’d been understandably cautious about a new man shacking up with her daughter’s father, she’d never been hostile. We’d met early in my relationship with Derek. He’d been open with her from day one that he was dating me and let her know when things were turning serious enough that living together was on the table. Hell, she’d come to our commitment ceremony and our legal wedding, and not just because our daughter was there.

But all through tonight’s rehearsal, and as we’d all pitched in to make dinner in the reception hall’s giant kitchen, and throughout dinner, and as Vanessa’s soon-to-be in-laws insisted that everyone drink the gallons of booze they’d brought, the air between Sara and me grew steadily colder.

In the name of keeping the peace, I surreptitiously avoided her as much as I could. That wasn’t much, though. Derek and I were supposed to walk up the aisle with her and sit beside her. At dinner, Derek and I couldn’t really avoid sitting together, and Sara ended up sitting across from us.

No one did or said anything. Dinner was as uneventful as anyone could ask for. But just being there, occasionally catching each other’s eye as the air between us grew frostier and frostier, was miserable.

And could I blame her? I’d brought this on us. I was the reason Derek was probably wearing himself down by putting on that almost believable happy face. I was the reason Sara was livid and drinking herself into a rage. I was the reason for the divorce that could ruin Vanessa’s wedding.

So no, I didn’t blame her. I just hated the constant scrutiny. I wanted to glare at her and tell her I hated myself enough. Could she not see how much this was eating me alive? It had been for months, but today? With the hours ticking down to the wedding that was stressing Derek out more than it should have?

I don’t need you, lady. I’m flagellating myself just fine on my own.

Finally, dinner was over, and I had the chance to escape and catch my breath. While Sara and Vanessa were checking to make sure all the tables were ready for tomorrow, I helped Corbin’s mom wash dishes in the big kitchen.

At least washing dishes didn’t require much thought. Beth was annoyed at someone else about God knew what, so she wasn’t chatty. And me… fuck. I was elbow deep in soapy water and up to my neck in regret. I felt like a kid being punished—I knew I’d fucked up, and I was going to be reminded of it at every turn until someone else decided I’d been miserable long enough. Derek had kept his polite, civil game face all day, but I knew he wished I wasn’t here. Sometimes we’d catch each other’s eye when no one else was looking, and the hurt would show in his, and all my regret would start throbbing with renewed vigor. As if it had stopped this entire time; the whole trip and this whole damn day, it had been there like a relentless toothache—impossible to ignore and not a dentist in sight.

By the time I’d found myself in this kitchen with dishes to keep me occupied, I felt like I had while recovering from some of my surgeries. Not in pain, per se, but when my emotional threads started to fray because I was worn ragged, sleep-deprived, and frustrated that the simplest things were suddenly complicated. With a road trip, my looming divorce, and my battered conscience, I was pretty sure I was down to my last thread, and it wasn’t going to hold much longer.

I just need some downtime. Some time to myself.

God, yes. That’s what I need. Will it be too cold to go for a run when I get back to the house?

That might be a bad idea. There’d been some frosty patches in the shade when I’d gone out yesterday morning, and the ground had been wet today. With the sun down, there was a good chance of ice forming, and an even better chance of me not seeing it before I stepped on it. Apparently a run would have to wait until tomorrow.

Though I was seriously tempted to hunt down a twenty-four hour gym in the area. After all I did have a car, and I doubted Derek would mind if I left for a while.

Yes. As soon as I was done washing dishes, I’d look up gyms in the area, and after all the rehearsal shit was over, I’d blow off some steam on a treadmill. Hopefully that would help.

Now if I could just hold myself together until then, I’d be golden.

At the other sink, Beth peered at the drying rack, which was full of plates. “I think we’re missing a few. I’ll go check.”

“Okay. Sure.” I flashed her a quick smile, then continued scrubbing burnt cheese off the side of a lasagna pan while she went back into the reception hall. Admittedly, I was glad to have a moment alone. We hadn’t exactly been chatting, but I’d take what I could get.

Not thirty seconds later, though, footsteps behind me raised the hairs on my neck. I hoped it was just Beth coming back in with more plates, but somehow I knew it wasn’t. And when I turned… Oh shit.

Sara gave me some unmistakable side-eye as she plunked a handful of glasses down on the counter next to the sink. “Need any help?” The chilly offer came through gritted teeth.

“Uh. No. I’m… I’m good.” I chanced a quick look at her before fixing my attention on the pan I was still working on. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“All right.” But she didn’t move. She just…stood there. Right outside my peripheral vision, eyes burning holes in my shoulder at the same time her glare brought the temperature in the kitchen down twenty degrees. Finally, though, she turned to go, but before I could sigh with relief, she halted. “You know what? I can’t keep my mouth shut.”

I gulped, and when I turned to her again, she was glaring at me hard. “Uh. Okay.” I put down the sponge and pan, mostly so I didn’t drop the glass pan and break it. Then I picked up a dishtowel to occupy my hands. “What’s up?”

“I think you know what’s up.”

I returned the glare. “No, I don’t. I know that if looks could kill, you’d have dropped me before dinner, but beyond that—”

“Oh, cut the crap.” She set her jaw. “Don’t play stupid.”

My teeth snapped shut. Well, that answered that.

“Why, Rhys?” Sara folded her arms and held my gaze, shooting daggers from her eyes. “Why the fuck did you do it?”

“Is anything I say going to change any—”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.” She came closer, the glare hardening. “Tell me why. Tell me what in God’s name was going through your mind when you made the decision to do that to him when he has been nothing but good to you. Oh, and while you’re at it? Tell me why the fuck you did something that you know is going to break my little girl’s heart.”

The last fraying thread of my composure was dangerously thin now. Sara had me dead to rights, and I didn’t have an answer for her. Not one that would excuse anything. Nothing could excuse that fuck-up that had thrown my family’s entire world into chaos. And the reminder that this was going to hurt Vanessa pretty much knocked my legs out from under me.

I leaned against the counter and clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. It didn’t matter how raw I was after the last few days with Derek. There was no way in hell I was breaking down here. Not where Derek or—God forbid—Vanessa could walk in and see me.

C’mon, Rhys. Pull it together.

Except…I couldn’t. I’d been trying like hell to hold it together for months, and especially for the last few days. I’d even put on the face of a happily married husband for the last twenty-four hours, refusing to let it show that I was dying inside.

Sara may as well have been putting a mirror in my face and forcing me to look at who I was and what I’d done, and the guilt was too much.

“I fucked up,” I whispered shakily. “I know I did. There is nothing I could possibly say that’ll justify it to you, because there’s nothing that’ll justify it to me either.” Before I could stop myself, I sniffed, and with an unsteady hand, swiped at my eyes. “There’s nothing you can say that’s going to make me feel worse than I already do.” My voice shook and threatened to break as I whispered, “I hurt Derek. I fucked up our marriage. It’s going to devastate Vanessa once she finds out. I messed up so bad, and… I mean, I don’t even know how to live with that. I don’t… I…”

Sara’s expression softened, and that didn’t help me pull it together at all.

I covered my eyes as I tried like hell to pull it together anyway. I failed. Miserably.

She touched my shoulder. “Rhys, slow down. Just take a breath and—”

“Hey, Mom? Did you find the—”

I dropped my hand and turned just as Vanessa appeared in the doorway, and her gaze went straight to me. Horror and concern took over her expression. “Dad? What’s going on?”

I cleared my throat and once again tried to compose myself, but the damage was done. There was no hiding the fact that she’d walked in while I was fighting a losing battle against tears. Didn’t stop me from making a valiant effort, though.

Sara stepped between us and started to herd Vanessa toward the door. “Why don’t we go back out and—”

“What? No.” Vanessa side-stepped her mom and stepped closer to me. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.” I sniffed and forced a smile. “It’s—”

“Like hell it’s nothing.” She stared at me with wide eyes. “I’ve seen you cry twice, and it was never over nothing.”

Fuck. How was I supposed to explain my way out of this one?

And of course Derek picked that moment to join the party in the kitchen. As soon as he saw us, he halted abruptly, eyes darting to each of us in turn. “Um. What’s going on?”

All eyes were on me again.

Beth stepped in behind Derek, a stack of plates in her hands, but instantly seemed to realize there was a tense moment in progress. She set the plates down and quickly left, and the standoff continued.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa repeated.

So many things that I can’t even begin to explain to you.

Sara tried to nudge them both out of the room. “You know what? Why don’t we all give Rhys a minute? This isn’t the time for—”

Vanessa planted her feet. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” she asked through gritted teeth. “Because there’s no way it’s nothing, and now I’m going to worry myself sick until someone tells me.”

Derek and I locked eyes. Then he exhaled and turned to her. “Look, we’re not trying to hide anything from you. We didn’t want…” He shook his head. “We wanted you to enjoy your day and—”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Vanessa snapped. “Is someone sick? Are you guys splitting up or something?”

The simultaneous flinches from Derek, Sara, and me could not have been more conspicuous.

Vanessa’s jaw went slack and her eyes were huge. “You are, aren’t you?” Beat. “What the hell? Are you serious?”

Derek swallowed. “Like I said, we didn’t want to tell you until—”

“Screw that. I know now. What… What happened?”

Derek and I exchanged another look. We hadn’t planned to tell her yet, so we hadn’t worked out how much we would tell her.

I took a deep breath. “Listen, we were going to tell you, but then when you told us you were getting married, we wanted to hold off until after—”

“What? I told you guys that months ago! Has… Has this been going on since… November? For God’s sake, why the hell wouldn’t you tell me? I’ve been tearing my hair out over this wedding, and now you’re going to drop this bomb on me the night before? What the hell?”

“We weren’t going to drop it on you the night before.” Derek made a placating gesture. “We didn’t want to tell you until after—”

“Yeah, and how’d that work out for you?” she threw back.

I winced. Vanessa was about as even-keeled as they came. She rarely raised her voice to anyone, never mind one of her parents, but I knew all too well how stressful weddings were. They wore everyone down to their last fraying threads, and even someone as level-headed as Vanessa was bound to snap. Especially if she found out at T-minus eighteen hours pre-wedding that her dads were divorcing.

As the silence in the kitchen wore on, Vanessa’s anger evaporated in favor of pure, bone-deep hurt. “I can’t believe this.” She wiped her eyes with a shaking hand. “You guys should’ve told me.” Before either of us could reply, she walked out.

“Vanessa,” Derek called after her, but as he started to follow her, Sara stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

“Let me talk to her,” she said. “She might need a minute.”

Derek opened his mouth like he was about to protest, but then he deflated and motioned for her to go.

A second later, she was gone.

And we were alone.

A couple of silent seconds ticked by before Derek spun on me and growled, “What the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” I gritted out. “Your ex brought it up. Not me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was in here washing goddamned dishes, and she came at me sideways and started giving me the third degree, and I—” My own anger and defensiveness dropped out from under me like a bone snapping beneath my weight. Shifting my gaze from my angry ex-husband to the doorway our daughter had fled through, I said, “I just couldn’t… I can’t justify what I did. I’d never try to. And I just…” I had to grit my teeth hard as my emotions threatened to get the best of me again. Damn him and Sara for stomping on that nerve. For picking tonight of all nights to do it. Anger tried to surge forward again, and I grabbed onto it as I faced Derek again. “We shouldn’t have kept this from her, and you fucking know it.”

“And you shouldn’t have fucked him, but that didn’t stop you, did it?”

We stared at each other, jaws set and eyes narrow.

Then he shook his head, muttered something I didn’t catch, and stormed out of the kitchen.

The instant I was alone, I slumped against the counter. I rubbed my forehead and swore into the empty kitchen. Later, I’d get angry at Derek taking that cheap shot. Later, I’d get pissed at Sara for coming at me like that.

Right now, I was too busy feeling guilty and ashamed, not to mention worrying about Vanessa. We’d known this would devastate her. That was exactly why we hadn’t told her before this weekend.

But she knew. There was no putting this cat back into the bag, and with just hours to go before her wedding, she knew.

And I hated myself more than I had in recent memory.

Which said a lot.