Those Who Wait

by Haley Cass

  When he paused, she leaned forward, reaching for his hand. This was something she hadn’t known she needed to hear. “Dean –”

  But he held his hand up, stopping her. “I knew that day that you had a spark. That you had the intelligence and the drive, but also that extra . . . thing about you. But I didn’t know that you’d so easily become my right hand here, that you’d become a friend.”

  No, she hadn’t had any idea about that either. That Dean would be important in her life in any way beyond professional, and now, he was essentially her in-law.

  “And I definitely didn’t know then that you were going to be not only the youngest congresswoman ever elected, but that you’re going to be the youngest lesbian, too.” He put his hand down over hers. “I didn’t know how much you were going to change the world, Charlotte, but I do now. And I want you to know that in these last few years, it’s been an honor to have worked with you.”

  Damn it. She felt this welling of gratefulness inside of her, so strong it was almost overwhelming. No, it was overwhelming and she tried to laugh it off. “An honor, sure. I am idealistic and headstrong and opinionated, so you were right on that front.”

  “An honor,” his tone offered no room for argument as he squeezed her hand. He met her eyes with his own and she knew he was as serious as he could be.

  It broke a piece inside of her that had been holding tenuously on and her eyes filled with tears. “You absolute sap.” She chuckled, but it was shamefully watery.

  She pulled back and brought both of her hands up to wipe her eyes as carefully as she could with her thumbs, trying to maintain her makeup covering the bags under her eyes.

  His hand landed on her shoulder and rubbed in comfort. She took in a tremulous breath, forcefully closing her eyes and willing the tears to stop. Needing for them to stop, before it got out of control.

  “I’m sorry, for this. Lately I’m so –” She cut herself off, unwilling – no, unable to admit aloud how close these tears were to the surface in the last few weeks.

  “There’s no shame in having feelings,” he spoke softly, handing her a tissue from the desk next to hers.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes, using her phone to assure that her makeup hadn’t run, even though her eyes were still glassy and her stomach was still in knots. “Come on.”

  “There’s not. Especially when you have so many high-stress situations going on. With the election closing in and . . .”

  A mirthless chuckle escaped her, even as her heart lurched painfully in her chest. “Yeah.”

  “For what it’s worth, I truly do admire you and how damn strong you are.”

  She accepted it with a small nod, closing her eyes tightly for a moment. His words were a double-edged sword, this admission of admiration. She needed to hear that far more than she’d realized.

  Because she sure as hell didn’t feel very strong right now. When she would only let herself admit in the dead of night, how much she was hurting herself.

  She just had to keep this in mind. This is all for a reason. Chin up, shoulders back. Pain was always temporary and she had a future that was put on hold for no one. Things would all line back on track, she just had to remember that.

  She supposed there was no way she could change the world without experiencing some damn painful heartache herself, first.

  “I’m going to do my paperwork as fast as humanly possible and then you and I are both leaving here. Your brother and I will take your mind off of work.”

  She acquiesced, only because she knew there was no talking him out of it. Besides, she allowed, her mind wasn’t going to be really on work one way or the other.

  Chapter 23

  Sutton had always loved weddings.

  She loved what they meant, what they symbolized. From the very first one she had ever attended – for a cousin, when she’d been four – she’d been mesmerized. From the beautiful clothes, to the ceremony, to the way someone’s eyes looked when they looked at their new spouse, to the way everyone celebrated afterward.

  The idea of forever with someone else . . . it was such a beautiful thought.

  Before she could stop herself, a sigh escaped her as she slid her glasses off and rubbed her fingers over her eyes as a headache brewed just behind them.

  Oliver’s wedding to Jane was happening in a week and by staying at her parents’ house for the time being, she was wrapped up in the wedding madness. Morning, noon, and night there were people in and out of the house – caterers, florists, bakers, photographers, and maybe even the Pope himself, for all she knew. For the first time since she’d returned home last week, there was silence where she’d cocooned herself in the kitchen with a cup of tea. It was also nearly one in the morning and everyone involved in the wedding had left over an hour ago, thankfully.

  Their ceremony itself was going to be small, held at one their parents’ estates. Followed by a very large reception at one of the grandest event halls Sutton had ever seen.

  And Sutton was loving being a bridesmaid; she really was. Oliver was probably the happiest he had ever been and she enjoyed getting to be an up-close part of it.

  It just also hurt.

  Seeing Oliver and Jane together was sweet. Then there was Lucas and his longtime girlfriend Isla, Alex was bringing Chris despite refusing to call him her boyfriend, and even Ethan – Ethan! Her brother who had barely turned fifteen, had a date with someone from school for the wedding.

  She was happy for all of her siblings. She wanted them all to not be lonely, to have someone to share private laughs with, to have someone to dance with, to have someone to join them at these events.

  But it made her heart ache, because she wanted for once to join in on that. To have someone to bring to the weddings, to the holidays, to the parties. Instead of feeling the pockets of loneliness.

  At this exact moment it was worse than it had been in the past, where she wished to have someone to be with during these times. Where her romantic side could bemoan not having someone, but she could sigh a bit and turn her attention to Regan and her other friends.

  This time, though, she wished that she had Charlotte here experiencing the wedding chaos with her.

  It was harder, now, knowing exactly what she was missing out on. She knew exactly how it felt to have someone be on the same page as her, to make eye contact and share a moment. How it felt to want to lean closer only to feel that connection.

  She knew what she could have if things were different. If coming out wouldn’t mean Charlotte was risking everything. If Charlotte cared about what was between them to feel like the risk was worth it.

  It made it more difficult seeing other people have that, now that she knew exactly what that feeling was.

  Shaking her head, she brought her fingers to her temples and rubbed hard to ward off the headache. She hated that she still felt this way. That it had been almost a month since she’d had any contact with Charlotte and it still hurt like this.

  Blearily, she blinked her eyes open to stare blankly down at the paper in front of her. Lucas had sheepishly asked her if she would write and orate the Best Man speech, because words were far easier for her than they were for him. As was public speaking. He’d made a heartfelt plea, citing that he wanted the best speech possible for their brother and that she would be the person for the job, and she agreed with enthusiasm.

  It was only now when she really needed to buckle down and get it written, that she was unexpectedly struggling. She hadn’t realized how hard it was to immerse herself in pretty words about love while her own heart was still tender and hurting.

  As much as she wished there would be a magical way to snap her fingers to feel better and not miss Charlotte . . . Well, it was a slow process. But she was trying.

  Besides, it wasn’t like Charlotte would have even been here at the wedding with her even if she hadn’t put an end to their arrangement last month. She never would have been her date to a wedding while she wasn’t publicly out, which, she guessed, was precis
ely what she’d been getting at when she begged Sutton to look at things from her point of view.

  It was an odd thing, she’d decided in the last few weeks, feeling both sympathetic to Charlotte because she understood, but also feeling stupid – so stupid. Caught between understanding what Charlotte could lose by coming out, but also wishing and hoping so hard for Charlotte to have done anything when she’d told her that she was in love with her.

  For Charlotte to have run after her when she’d left the café that day. Stopped her and told her that there really was something here between them. That it was important and that she didn’t want it to end, either, even if there would be consequences.

  “God. Write,” she commanded herself, tapping her pen against the table and blowing out a deep breath. “Ignore your own pathetic love life and find something nice to say about Oliver’s.”

  “Sutton? What are you doing up?” Her mother’s voice made her jump and she turned just in time to see her mom flick on the lights to illuminate the entire room. “Why are you sitting in the dark, honey?”

  “I wasn’t,” she replied, teasing, as she used her pen to point up at the light directly above the kitchen table that she was sitting at.

  Katherine rolled her eyes as a tired smile tugged at her lips. “You know what I meant.”

  Rolling the pen between her fingers, she watched as her mother made herself a cup of tea. In her silk robe, with her auburn hair pulled up into a quick but effortlessly beautiful chignon, Sutton felt acutely why she’d always idolized her.

  “I was trying to make the least amount of noise and distraction as possible,” she answered honestly. “You’re such a light sleeper and you’ve been so busy, I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  Her mother’s eyes were warm as she walked over to the table and slid into the nook to sit beside her. “How’s the speech coming?”

  The sigh escaped her before she could stop it. Then she coughed as if she could cover it up. “It’s – it’s fine. I just, there’s some fine . . . tuning . . .” she slowly trailed off as she watched her mom lift an eyebrow and reach over to spread all of the papers out over the table.

  The papers that were either blank or were covered in scribbles.

  She helplessly stared at the papers, searching for the words to explain to her mother. But how did she explain that every time she started writing, she got wrapped up in writing about her own thoughts on love. How that hurt so badly because every route of talking about love made her think about Charlotte, when she hadn’t told her mother in specific terms about what had happened with her.

  Even though she’d known they were sleeping together, telling her mom about all of the details – the whirlwind of feelings and how she finally understood what it meant to be in love. The subsequent heartbreak – still felt like a betrayal to Charlotte somehow. And made her feel like an absolute idiot.

  “What are you doing up?” She was well aware that it was obvious that she was changing the subject but she didn’t care.

  “I was . . . I have a lot on my mind.” Katherine’s voice was introspective, as was the look on her face.

  “With the wedding.”

  Her mom hummed, looking into her mug of tea.

  “Oliver . . . he’s happy.” She noted as she studied Sutton.

  “He definitely seems it.”

  Katherine took a large sip of her tea, staring across the kitchen for a long moment. “I was so reserved about Jane when Oliver first brought her home.”

  Sutton snorted. “Um, I remember.”

  She especially remembered because the first time Jane had come home with Oliver for a long weekend she’d been extremely shy. Beyond that, their mother’s reputation had proceeded her, which meant Jane had spent the majority of the weekend nervously avoiding spending one-on-one time with her.

  Katherine gave her a look, even though there was a smile edging along the corners of her mouth. “She was so quiet, the very definition of the opposite of Oliver – and of the girls he typically liked to date.”

  Sutton couldn’t help but laugh, leaning her shoulder into her mom’s. “You are always reserved about whoever anyone brings home, no matter what!”

  Now her mom’s grin emerged full-stop, not an ounce of denial in her eyes. “I eventually came around to Jane because I realized that she truly did love your brother. I could see it. And I wanted the best for him.” Her voice took on that soft, contemplative tone that Sutton couldn’t quite figure out. “You know I just want the best for all of you.”

  Sutton was about to nod when she realized her mother was not only just saying that as a fact, but that she was waiting for Sutton’s response. “I know that. We all do.”

  That considering look fell away after a few seconds and Katherine leaned forward, kissing Sutton’s forehead. It wasn’t something that happened often anymore, but it had been something her mom would do when they were all younger. A soft comfort that still worked so well, even when Sutton didn’t know exactly what she was thinking.

  “I’m proud of the beautiful, caring, smart woman you are. And everyone who is worth a second of your time will see all of that and love it, too,” she murmured as she leaned back.

  “Yeah, right.” The words left her before she could stop them.

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she took in a deep breath even as her throat felt tight.

  She felt her mom’s hand land on hers, squeezing, as her voice was quiet but direct. “Sutton, honey, why did you come home early? I know you said it’s because you’re just very excited about the wedding, but I know you. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’d very much like to hear about it.”

  “I . . .” When would she learn that lying to her mom was useless? She’d almost hoped that she was too distracted by everything going on to notice Sutton’s turmoil.

  The plan had been for Sutton to return for the wedding five days prior to the event, when her spring break started. The tickets had been booked for months.

  Then her birthday had happened.

  She’d gone out at Regan’s insistence, despite the fact that she hadn’t really been in the going out kind of mood. Regan had really pulled out all of the stops, though.

  She’d made Sutton breakfast before she’d left to go to work, and had returned home with a full tray of her favorite lemon cakes, a pair of brand new boots that Sutton loved, and a card. However, she’d had Sutton open the card last, because it had been a part of the gift itself.

  Sutton, my lovely ginger sunflower –

  I know you still feel like you shouldn’t go and leave me without half of the rent, but that is craziness. You’re so smart and this is ROME! You’re going to ROME and that is so fucking EXCITING! You’re not allowed to feel guilty about your share of the bills here.

  Because Emma – yes, your uptight and kinda bitchy friend Emma who can’t stand anything about me, apparently, for no reason whatsoever – is going to live in your vacated room. She’s been trying to get out of her shitty apartment with her vampiric roommate(s?) that’s basically a subway cubicle for months and has agreed that despite her (insane) dislike of me, our apartment is a perfect place for her to live for the next few months.

  It makes up the rent that I won’t be able to afford and it gives her time to search for a viable option while not living in a miserable shithole. Plus it’s apparently way closer to her new job or whatever. We have all of the details figured out. For all of her irritating aspects, her best feature by far is that she cares about you.

  We have that in common.

  Pack your bags, babe, because you are not going to miss out on showing off to the world how amazing you are. I took the liberty of filling out your acceptance form :) you just gotta send it in.

  Happy birthday best friend!

  It had made her tear up – in the good way. And Regan had surprised her by inviting over Emma and Alia. Regan had pulled out Sutton’s favorite go-to outfit for when she went out and had sent Sutton to get changed with a firm pat on her ass
and a shout, “It’s your birthday and if you think any of us are going to let you sit inside and wallow, you are dead wrong!”

  They’d gone out to dinner and then to a couple of clubs. They drank a little and laughed a lot. She’d even danced with a few other women and it had been . . . nice. She’d been very focused on not thinking about Charlotte at all and with everything going on, it was easy to push her to the back of her mind. Because Regan was right; even if it had only been three weeks post-break up, she did deserve to go out and have a good time.

  It’d been fun. They walked home together, a unit, even as they stopped for McDonald’s French fries. They blended in with many of the other people who were out at two in the morning, flushed and buzzed and laughing, and then – there was Charlotte.

  Well, kind of.

  On one of the giant electronic billboards they projected Charlotte’s face, along with snippets on the bottom from her most recent interview. She looked dignified, gorgeous, and like she wasn’t suffering nearly as much as Sutton was without her.

  She’d come to a stumbling stop, laughter at one of Emma’s stories dying on her lips.

  She’d spent the weeks before her birthday walking a fine line between dealing with her feelings – like trying to accept the fact that Charlotte didn’t want to be with her, trying to forget the way she’d looked when Sutton had walked away from her – without wallowing in self-pity too much.

  Which meant avoiding most news about the upcoming election as much as she could help it, focusing on getting all of her midterms and TA grading done. Getting ready for the wedding.

  All right, and some occasional nights in her bed with her sad songs playing because she just needed it. Distancing herself from the news was necessary, because it was so confusing with how much she wanted Charlotte to win compared with how much it hurt to see her at all.

  That projection of Charlotte on a giant screen literally washing over her, she just – she felt so dumb, but it popped the bubble of the evening.