Hate Story

by Nicole Williams

  I was probably the least nervous bride in history, I thought as I took a seat and waited patiently for the time to pass. After crawling into bed last night, I’d fallen asleep and stayed asleep until my alarm woke me. No butterflies had found their way into my stomach. Cold feet had stayed away. Second thoughts and hesitations had steered clear too. Even checking my pulse revealed that everything was normal.

  That probably had a lot to do with the nature of Max’s and my arrangement, but I also knew it had something to do with Max. I wasn’t just marrying some guy who thought commitment was something to lie about when he wanted to get a girl into bed; I was marrying the kind who knew what a promise meant and how to keep one.

  I was ready to get married and move on. To whatever was waiting for us.

  Since nothing about our relationship was traditional—right down to the way it had started—we’d decided to go with the same when it came to our wedding.

  I was wearing the same dress Max had gotten me for our engagement since he was a big fan and if he wasn’t going to let me return it, I might as well get some use out of it. Plus, it did look pretty fantastic on me. Max would be wearing one of his classic blue suits because when he had asked me what he should wear, I just couldn’t picture him wearing anything else waiting for me in front of an altar.

  We were getting married at 5:40 at night, the flowers from my “bouquet” were handpicked wild roses from Grandma’s garden in the backyard and tied together with a bit of twine, and the menu tonight certainly didn’t fall into the elegant category—German fare combined with an array of American favorites like a nacho bar, sliders, and chili fries.

  The menu pretty much looked like an adolescent boy had gotten his hands on it, and the rest was like a group of little girls had been set loose on the place.

  It wouldn’t be a large wedding—we’d sent out thirty invitations, almost all of those going to Max’s family, friends, and acquaintances, and were expecting fifty people to attend. We’d picked a charming event center that overlooked the river where we could hold both the ceremony and reception and, at Max’s request, made sure it was close to the hotel he’d booked for our wedding night.

  We’d done it. We’d made it here.

  I was ready.

  A knock sounded at the door, but before I could invite whoever it was in, the door opened and in came my soon-to-be husband. I stood, my hand moving to my hip.

  His eyes found me, going wide. “Holy fucking heart attack, Nina.” Max leaned into the door, his hand dropping to his chest.

  My eyebrow quirked. “I’m going to assume you mean that as a compliment.”

  His head shook as his eyes roamed me once more before landing on mine. “No, I mean that as there never has been and never will be a more beautiful bride than mine.”

  He was in my favorite blue suit. The one he’d worn the day in the shower. Holy fucking heart attack exactly. “It’s bad luck to see me before the wedding.”

  His head shook slowly. “Seeing you could never bring me bad luck.”

  I pointed at the clock I’d been monitoring for the past fifteen minutes. “You’re supposed to be in front of an altar in two minutes.”

  “I need to talk to you.” He was smiling as he moved toward me, but the corners of his eyes started to crease.

  “Can it wait until after? I think we’re paying the minister by the minute.” When I took a good look at his face, I felt the blood in my veins chill. Something was wrong.

  “It can’t wait.” He took a few more steps toward me, swallowing. “I can’t marry you today, Nina.”

  My grip tightened on my bouquet, trying to figure out what he’d just said. Or what he was saying. I couldn’t decipher either. “Funny. Get out there already.” I smiled, clinging to the hope that he was just teasing. Because he had to be. Right? This whole thing had been his idea. He’d picked the date and everything.

  Nothing about his expression looked as though he were teasing. “I’m serious, Nina.”

  My heartbeat started echoing in my ears. “So am I, Max. Get your butt out there.”

  As he let out a breath, his hands slid into his pockets. “I can’t marry you.”

  My stomach churned, confusion surging in my veins. “What are you talking about? This is the day we planned on, and now you come in here and say ‘I can’t marry you today’? What does that even mean?”

  His finger moved between us. “I can’t marry you like this.”

  “Like what we agreed upon?” I wasn’t sure if it was the room or me or my head that was spinning, but something was definitely reeling.

  He stopped moving closer, looking like he had to force himself to keep his eyes on mine. “No.”

  “But . . .” My hand moved to my forehead as I tried to make sense of what was going on. Nothing like how I’d planned this day would go. “But . . . why not?” That was all I had. A hundred other questions were floating in my mind, but that was the only one that mattered.

  Max took a breath. Then he let it out. “Because I love you.”

  And just like that, the air left my lungs. “Max . . .”

  He held up his hands like he was trying to buttress against an avalanche coming for him. “I know I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, I know we weren’t going to rush into anything, but it happened, and I can’t take it back or wish it back.” He lifted his shoulders. “I love you, Nina. This wasn’t part of the plan, but this is what happened.”

  Rubbing my forehead, I focused on what to say. I knew we had feelings for each other, but I hadn’t guessed he had this kind. Not yet. Love was a big deal, not something you threw around with someone you’d met months ago for some sham marriage.

  “I don’t understand why you can’t marry me though. You still need your green card.” Reason, that was what I needed. No more of that emotion stuff that was making me feel a myriad of things I couldn’t put a name to.

  “I don’t need my green card.” Max’s jaw set. “I need you.”

  Need. Love. I hadn’t shown up prepared to discuss these topics when I expected to be walking down the aisle toward a man who’d essentially hired me to marry him. I wasn’t ready. Not yet. With time, maybe, but not so soon. This was why people fell apart so quickly—they let feelings and chemistry and emotions trick them into thinking a relationship was more than it was.

  “This isn’t what we agreed on.” My head shook. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.”

  Max tugged at his tie, loosening it. Why was he loosening his tie when we were supposed to be getting married? That, more than anything else, made me realize that he really had no intentions of exchanging vows with me today.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you before now, but it took this long to work up the courage to tell you. I don’t want you to marry me because you said you would. I want you to marry me because you love me too.”

  My vision was going blurry. It took me a moment to realize I was tearing up. “That’s not fair.”

  He nodded slowly. “I know, but things have changed. My feelings for you have.”

  Roaming back to the window, I watched the first drops fall out of the sky. I’d known we were facing one storm today; I hadn’t known there’d be two. “We agreed to do this. This was your whole idea.”

  “I can’t marry you, Nina. Not if you don’t feel the same as I do.” He stayed frozen in the same spot, just barely in my peripheral vision. “I won’t do that to you.”

  My arms wrapped around my body. I felt like I was falling apart from the core outward. “You said you were never going to leave me.”

  “I’m not leaving you, Nina. I’ll be right here whenever you need me.” He was trying to keep his voice even, but it wobbled every few words. This was hard for him. “I mean that. Whenever. Whatever. I’m here. I always will be.”

  I wondered if it was as hard for him as it was for me. I wondered if this storm would stay with him as long it would stay with me. I doubted it. He might claim today tha
t he loved me, but tomorrow was a new day.

  “If you’re not leaving me, then what’s going on?” I whispered at the window.

  “I’m setting you free.”

  From the corner of my eye, I noticed Max move closer. My body tensing at his approach stopped him.

  “I love you too much to make you go through with this.”

  “Go through with this?” My eyes narrowed. “I agreed to it.”

  “I don’t want you to marry me because you agreed to it. I want you to marry me because you want to.”

  My lip quivered, so I bit it. I didn’t want to feel weak in a moment when I needed to be at my strongest. “This is so truly unfair. You know how I feel about all of that.”

  I heard his footsteps move closer. He didn’t stop until he was right beside me. “Do you love me?”

  My skin chilled. “Max.”

  “It’s a simple question,” he said softly.

  “Nothing’s simple about love.”

  “Everything’s simple about it. You either love me or you don’t.”

  When his hand curved around my elbow, I reacted like he’d just shocked me. Dropping his hand, he stepped back to give me some space.

  He gave me a minute. Then he gave me two.

  The whole time, I stayed quiet. You either love me or you don’t. Was it really that straightforward? Was there really no in-between? God, thinking about this was impossible when he was standing right here in front of me and the clock had just hit 5:40 on the dot.

  Max glanced at his watch, exhaling. Then he gave me a sad smile. “And if you have to think about your answer, that’s an answer.”

  My throat tightened. I thought we’d been good. I thought we were both okay with the way our relationship was evolving . . . but I’d warned him about the L word. I’d pleaded with him not to push it or force it or do whatever it was he was doing right now. Moments from when we were supposed to be exchanging vows.

  “Max, I don’t know what to say,” I choked out. “I’m sorry.”

  He was in pain. He was hurting. He was fighting the same army of emotions I was. Through it all, he managed to hold his smile.

  “I’m not,” he said, backing toward the door. “This is what love is—doing what’s best for that person and forgoing what’s best for yourself.”

  That was when I felt the first tear rain down my cheek, in the spirit of the storm outside, in response to the storm inside.

  Do you love me?

  That question cycled around in my head, my answer confusing me.

  Do you love me?

  “Good-bye, Nina,” Max whispered as the door closed behind him, sealing me alone with nothing but the storm to comfort me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a piece of cake? I want to take a bath in this blackberry ribbon stuff,” Kate called from the kitchen sometime closer to sunrise than sunset. Officially April first—or April Fool’s Day.

  It was kind of poetic since I felt like a fool. Sitting here in my wedding dress for the wedding that had never happened, twirling an engagement ring around my finger even though the guy who’d given it to me had decided he didn’t want to marry me like we’d planned.

  Well, I guessed that wasn’t entirely fair. He would have married me if . . .

  I didn’t like conditions. We’d had an arrangement, we’d had a plan. He’d shot that all to hell, but somehow, I felt guilty. The hurt I’d felt earlier had melted into the current anger I was stewing in.

  Do you love me?

  That question had been playing on repeat in my head ever since those words had spilled from his lips. It was so unfair for him to put me on the spot like that, two and a half minutes before I’d been ready to walk down an aisle to exchange vows with him. Especially when he knew my history. Especially when he knew I did have feelings for him.

  I’d felt a lot of things for Max, but love was forbidden territory. It was securely reserved for fairy-tale land, only pulled from the pages of a storybook if someone wanted to ensure an unhappy ending. Love was not something I threw around glibly, if at all, but especially not seconds away from marrying the person expecting me to confess it in return.

  “I brought you a piece since you were unresponsive. But if you don’t want any, it will be an extra for me when I finish mine.” Kate held a piece of cake out for me, waiting.

  I didn’t take it. I didn’t even look at it.

  “Don’t think of it as wedding cake. Think of it as mind-blowing sex in confection form.” When my gaze met hers, she set the cake on the coffee table instead. “Good, more for me. I was looking to go up a jean size by lunch anyways.”

  Dropping to the floor, Kate curled her legs beneath her and stabbed her fork into the cake, but she didn’t take a bite. I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but nothing short of waking up from this nightmare would do that.

  After Max had left me, he’d announced to everyone that the wedding had been canceled. Of course, Kate made a beeline my way, getting me out of there before I had to face any of the guests or Max. She hadn’t said anything—just wrapped her arm around me and led me out to her Honda to get the hell out of there.

  It was almost like she’d known this would happen, or at least she wasn’t surprised it had.

  She’d been warning me against this whole thing from the beginning. She was the one who’d told me that if I let Max get in too deep, he’d ruin me. If only I’d taken her warning more seriously. I knew I’d let him in—I just hadn’t realized how far I’d let him burrow until I felt the emptiness now after losing him.

  I felt like I was made up of more hollow spots than whole pieces.

  Do you love me?

  “Wanna talk?” Kate was still in her bridesmaid dress, looking up at me like she was another unresponsive minute away from calling the professionals in the white coats.

  My head shook. “Wanna forget.”

  “What happened?”

  My ring twirled around on my finger. Why did I still have it on? “He said he didn’t want to marry me.”

  Kate’s brow lifted. “Max said he didn’t want to marry you?” It went higher. “Max?”

  “Yes, him. That guy I’d been planning on marrying today.” The doubt on her face and in her voice rubbed at my frayed nerves, making me sound snappier than I’d intended.

  “The same Max who—”

  “Approached me about getting his green card?” I interrupted, throwing my arm in the air before letting it flop back down into my lap. “Yep. That’s the one.”

  “Actually, I was going to say, the same Max who’s so crazy about you I guessed he was going to find you in your next ten lifetimes so you could be together.”

  My eyes closed. Not Kate too. I needed someone on my side to get why this was so wrong. Someone who understood that no matter what feelings we’d developed for each other, we’d agreed to marry today.

  “Well, he didn’t want to be with me in this lifetime, so I think you can cross the next-ten theory off your list.”

  Kate shoved the cake aside and leaned into the coffee table. “Why didn’t he want to marry you?”

  “Because he didn’t.”

  Her eyes lifted. “He had a reason. I want to hear it.”

  My tongue worked into my cheek as I stalled. I’d stayed quiet because I’d been dreading this point in the conversation. The why. Kate knew how I felt about the whole love topic and would call me out on it. I didn’t want to be called out on it. Not tonight.

  “I’m only going to assume the worst if you don’t tell me,” Kate added.

  “Then you’d be correct,” I grumbled.

  “He’s in love with a traveling polka singer named Gustav?”

  Slumping deeper into the chair, I decided to tell her. She was going to find out anyway. Where there was a Kate, there was a way.

  “Worse.” I took a breath. “He’s in love with me.”

  Kate let that settle between us, keeping her affect flat. Then she cleared her throat. “And you were surprised
by this?”

  I waved at myself, lost and a mess. “Obviously.”

  Kate bit her lip like she was trying to figure out a diplomatic way to say something. “And I’m going to assume that the reason you’re sharing your wedding night with me instead of him is because you didn’t say it back?”

  “It’s not my wedding night,” I grumbled.

  “Your what-could-have-been wedding night,” Kate edited, taking another stab at the cake with her fork. “Okay, so he freaked you out with the L word. I get it. A freak-out was totally warranted. But . . .”

  I sighed—I knew there’d be a but.

  “You two have been together, as a real couple, for a while. You seemed happy, did the whole melty eyes around each other.” Kate shrugged. “Isn’t love kind of a natural progression from all of that greatness?”

  “You know how I feel about that. He knows how I feel about that.” I found myself staring at the wedding cake.

  “Love isn’t the enemy, Nina.”

  “This casualty of it disagrees.”

  “Wounded combatant.” Kate lifted her finger. “Pull yourself up, dust your bum off, and get on with it.”

  “Get on with what?”

  “Figuring out if you love him too.”

  Do you love me?

  “I don’t know,” I said, my answer finally materializing. “I don’t know if I love him.”

  “How did I let you talk me into this again?” I muttered as Kate and I shoved through the doors of one of downtown’s nicer hotels.

  “I didn’t so much talk you into this as I pretty much just forced your ass out the front door.”

  “Ah, that’s right.”

  Kate detoured through the lobby toward the restaurant. “It’s been almost a month. You can’t just mope the rest of your life away inside that big, empty house.”

  “I haven’t been moping. I’ve been thinking.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Come up with any answers yet? With all of that thinking, you should have arrived at the solution to patching up the ozone layer. Should at least have been able to figure out if you love Max or not.”