Those Who Wait

by Haley Cass

  God, it was just as hard as she’d expected it to be. To deliver a speech about love, while being in love but also heartbroken about it was so damn hard. Even as she tried so hard not to think about Charlotte.

  Even if it was impossible not to.

  After all, she’d been the inspiration for her words.

  “I’ve learned that love is about finding someone who pulls you to them even when reason might tell you otherwise. Someone who pushes you out of your comfort zone, not because of them doing or saying anything, necessarily, but because they make you want to try new things. They make you want to be daring, because maybe something new and scary doesn’t feel quite as scary by their side.”

  She thought about the support Charlotte had given to her about applying for her internship. The nights where Charlotte had encouraged her to talk to her about the writing she’d done both with her mother and alone, even when Sutton was initially embarrassed. The intent face she always had on her face whenever Sutton spoke, like she took to heart what she was talking about.

  “Someone you see all of. Strengths and flaws, even the ones they aren’t aware of.” The times she’d seen not only how clever and passionate and ambitious Charlotte was – both in impressive ways and in detrimental ones.

  But also the times she was able to see how beautifully vulnerable she could be, too. How loyal, how sympathetic. In ways she knew Charlotte didn’t see herself in.

  “Someone who sees you for everything you are, too.” She bit her lip. “Someone who sees all of it and chooses you, anyway.”

  She had to break off for a moment, pulling the microphone away for a moment as her breath caught in her throat.

  Her voice was a little weaker, scratching at the back of her throat as she pushed through it. “And the only thing that could ever be better than feeling this way about that person is that they feel it back.”

  Tears stung at the backs of her eyes, the silence in the room paying her rapt attention somehow reminding her of Charlotte’s ringing silence after she’d confessed her love.

  Then she forced a smile and turned toward her brother.

  “What many of you don’t know, and what Oliver probably doesn’t want me to share, is that he had a crush on Jane very quickly after they met in college. She assisted him at the student health center for a sprained ankle. When he finally asked her out, she said no, and it wasn’t until a couple of years later that Jane realized that Oliver checked those items on her list, too. But Oliver knew – right away – that he felt all of those things, for her.

  “Growing up, Oliver was always the person to go to whenever you needed something. He’s the kind of brother who would take dancing lessons with you because you didn’t have a partner, for a completely random example.” She paused, catching his eye and grinning as the room laughed.

  “He’s the kind of brother who deserves nothing but the best. The most ideal kind of love you can imagine. All of us in this room can see that you two make each other so happy and it’s really an honor to be able to take part in your wedding.”

  She lifted her glass toward them and blew out a sigh of relief at the applause, as she turned the microphone off.

  She managed to keep that smile on, holding on as hard as she could to the happy feeling as she went to hug Oliver and Jane.

  The speech was the hard part, she reminded herself. Well – that and the dancing that was to come. She knew she wouldn’t want to miss Oliver and Jane’s first dance or even miss out on her siblings partaking with their respective partners.

  It was the loneliness she was dreading. The thinking about Charlotte and the dances they’d never actually shared.

  But she could do it, because she had to.

  Step one of her plan for the night – find out where the hell Regan went. Step two, go and find more champagne. And step three, consume it all with her best friend.

  Before she could put that plan into motion she stumbled over her own feet, almost rolling her ankle with her heels on, as she bumped into her dad. “God! Sorry.”

  After reaching out to steady her, he shoved his hands into his pockets in a way that screamed discomfort. “No need to apologize, honey, that was my fault. Just, uh, walking into your way.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I wanted to say something.”

  “Is something wrong?” It was hard to imagine, since everyone they really knew was already here.

  “No! No.” The denial was so vehement it made them both jump. “Ah, I don’t want to do this the wrong way, because all of the internet websites said to not bring it up before you were ready.”

  “Internet websites. Dad, they’re just called websi –” She sighed. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked so uncharacteristically nervous it was making her nervous. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to have to lie about who you are, Sutton. Not from me, not from anyone here, or anyone I associate with.”

  That certainly hadn’t been what she’d been expecting. “What?”

  “Damn. This miscommunication is one of the things the pamphlets talked about trying to avoid, but I just – I want you to know that support you. Always.” He nodded at her, decisively. “I know I’m not the best at times with showing my emotions, certainly not like your mother. But I don’t want you to feel like . . . you can’t bring your girlfriend to your brother’s wedding as your date.”

  Sutton was so glad she wasn’t holding onto the microphone anymore because she knew it would have slipped out of her hands in shock.

  “What?”

  “I know I’m not the most hip with recent technology and trends but in case it’s ever been lost in translation, I’m a liberal man. And I’m sorry if you’ve felt like you couldn’t tell me about who you are or like you had to hide your girlfriend in the hallway.”

  She felt dizzy with the realization of what exactly he was talking about and she had to close her eyes for a moment to gather herself. Especially when the tears pricked at them again.

  “Dad, you don’t have to apologize for anything.”

  Jack shook his head again. “No, I do. All of the pamphlets talked about parental attitudes and I didn’t want to push you, either, but –”

  “What pamphlets are you even talking about?”

  “The ones from the groups on the internet, about how to support your child when they come out,” he explained. The absurdity of it made her laugh through the tears that slipped out.

  She pulled him into a hug, finding comfort in the way he gently patted at her back. “You are good at expressing your emotions. A lot better than you think. And I love you.”

  She drew back slowly. “I am bisexual. But I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “But –” He looked over his shoulder and then slowly back at her. “At the New Year’s Eve party, with that woman? Charlotte?”

  Her cheeks burned at the memory. How she’d kissed her on the balcony at midnight and it had been so worth every wanting glance.

  “And the speech you gave seemed so personal.”

  Her stomach churned even more; she hoped to god that not everyone felt the same way. That not everyone who had listened to her could tell she was hopelessly in love with someone.

  She tangled her fingers together in front of her, pressing them against the soft fabric of her dress. As if it could ward away the sinking feeling settling there. “No, we . . . we’re not girlfriends.”

  “But, she –” He sighed in confusion and shrugged. “What do I know, I guess. But if you ever want to talk to me, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, dad.”

  Her father reached out to squeeze lightly at her arm, before making his way toward Oliver and Jane. Sutton stood there for another moment trying to wrap her mind around everything.

  Like that her dad had assumed for the last three months that she’d been in a relationship, an actual relationship, with Charlotte Thompson. That he’d been able to tell that those moments in her speech had been drawn from her experience
s with her.

  What a day and it wasn’t even over.

  She braced her hand on Regan’s shoulder as she sat at their table, still feeling a bit dazed.

  With a deep breath, she turned to look at her friend, who was giving her a curious look.

  “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  She rubbed her hand over her face before she held her chin in her hand to look at her best friend. “Where were you? You’ve been gone for half an hour.”

  Regan gave her a guileless smile. “I was back just in time to hear your speech. My little writer.”

  “Shut up.”

  “No, seriously, though. It was really good. Makes me know I’m doing the right thing by being willing to live with Emma for half a year while you go off to Rome to feed your creative soul.”

  She rolled her eyes even as she couldn’t help but grin. “You really are the best friend I’ve could ask for, you know.”

  “I know.” Regan winked. “But it’s not like I would be such a good friend for just anyone. Only you.” Her teasing smile faded into a genuine one. “You’re my best friend, Sutton. You know when I can be pushy or when I give you crap, I do really just want you to be happy.”

  Wondering where the hell this came from, she nodded. “I know that.”

  Regan quirked her lips to the side as she reached for her purse. “Like. I want you to be happy so much that I’m going to move in with Emma, who already sent me an email about ‘guidelines’ for living together.”

  She snorted. “Yes, you’re a saint.”

  “I know it. Just know that I want you to have every chance you can at having whatever happiness you want.”

  “Okay . . . cryptic, much?”

  Instead of elaborating, Regan pulled out her phone from her purse and put it on the –

  Wait.

  “That’s my phone!” She snatched it, indignantly. “When did you even take my phone, thief?”

  “When you were making your speech, obviously.”

  “I changed my password the last time you stole it.” She cradled it against her chest.

  Regan laughed, eyes glinting in mischief. “Like I don’t know you well enough to guess your lock code three times over.” She heaved a sigh, pushing herself up as she reached out to tap her finger against Sutton’s screen. “Don’t forget. I’m the best friend you’ll ever have.”

  “I said the best friend I could ask for!” She scowled at her back before looking down at her phone. “Clearly, I could have asked for better,” she murmured as she unlocked it.

  God only knew what Regan was getting up to.

  Her forehead wrinkled in confusion as she searched. Everything seemed the same as . . . oh.

  The very sight of the SapphicSpark logo made her nauseous and she stared down at it before whipping her head up to try to find Regan again.

  Because just – how dare she?

  After everything that had happened? After the last month that she’d spent seeing how absolutely broken up Sutton was over Charlotte?

  She only realized how tight the grip she had on her phone was when it vibrated in her hand.

  It took her a conscious moment to relax, gritting her teeth and then untensing her shoulders, before she unlocked her phone.

  Then very nearly dropped it.

  Charlotte has sent you a message!

  For a few moments, the music playing completely disappeared and everything just centered on her phone as her stomach bottomed out.

  Her hand shook as she tapped on the notification, nerves alight, because – what?

  Charlotte, 28, Boston

  Likes: beautiful redheads who believe in second chances

  Her phone slipped from her hand and into her lap as she stared. The picture was certainly Charlotte. And it wasn’t even the one she’d used in the past, the first time she’d seen her on here.

  It was the two of them. The one that had made the front page from the night of Charlotte’s grandmother’s party. The one where Charlotte’s arm was around her waist and their faces were so close. Where Charlotte in the picture was looking at Sutton with a look that seemed so adoring.

  But she’d been wrong about all of the thoughts this picture had caused her to have before.

  Charlotte, 6:04PM

  I was wondering if you could help me. I’m

  looking for a very particular someone.

  In a flash, she had her phone back in her hand, the other balling up so tightly in her lap, trying to hold back everything that wanted to come spilling out even as she struggled to figure out what to actually say.

  Sutton, 6:06PM

  I’m… so confused.

  Charlotte, 6:06PM

  I’m interested in a woman who looks incredibly

  stunning in a blue dress.

  Charlotte, 6:06PM

  A woman who writes tear-inducing speeches about

  love that she truly believes in.

  Charlotte, 6:07PM

  And I’m very interested in a woman who can

  make even the biggest nonbeliever, believe in

  love.

  Charlotte, 6:07PM

  Do you know where I can find her?

  The blue dress and the speech. Her dad looking so confused that she and Charlotte weren’t together and him commenting about her feeling like she had to hide her girlfriend.

  Charlotte was here.

  She stood in an instant, feeling dizzy from confusion and the wonder of it all. She looked around unable to totally calm her nerves. Damn it, why did they have to have so many people at this wedding?

  There were five entrances into the large, opulent venue that had been rented for the event, but Sutton felt like she could possibly search them all in lightning speed with the energy that was buzzing through her.

  She ignored the looks she got as she hurried to the open archway on the far wall, nervously biting at her lip. As she walked, she hit send on the message she’d typed out back at the table.

  After all, didn’t have anything else to lose.

  Sutton, 6:09PM

  Um, I don’t know if I should respond to your message.

  My lesbian guru once told me that someone who has

  such specific wants on their profile is someone who

  isn’t over her ex.

  With a deep breath she walked through the archway. She peered down the long hall that appeared to be empty, save for the security guard at the very end.

  “Your lesbian guru was right.”

  Even though she’d known Charlotte had to be here, surprise still rushed through her.

  Charlotte pushed off from one of the pillars she’d just ran through and Sutton felt – she didn’t even know what she felt.

  Because Charlotte was here, right in front of her, in a green dress that draped over her body in such a beautiful, snug fit, fitted just for her. Her hair was just a bit longer than it had been the last time they’d been together in person, swept up on one side with a gold comb. Her big brown eyes seeming like they held a thousand questions and answers both.

  Sutton was frozen in place, staring as her heart beat against her ribs. “What – what are you doing here?”

  She just couldn’t stop looking at her, like the image could be fake, as she had to swallow once, then twice, to get over the lump in her throat.

  “I needed to see you.” It took her a second to realize exactly how hesitant Charlotte looked. So very un-Charlotte.

  “It’s been a month.” She had to close her eyes tightly, trying to ward off tears that wanted to escape. “A month.”

  A month of loneliness and crying and anger; the worst month she’d ever had and it was that thought that allowed her to tamp down any of the warmth or excitement that wanted to peek out.

  “I told you I loved you.” She hastily wiped away an errant tear with the back of her hand. “I told you a month ago and you didn’t say anything, and you . . . why do you need to see me, now?”

  Charlotte took another step closer, so close that
Sutton could smell her light perfume. God, she’d missed it so much. “Because you were right.”

  “About what?”

  “You were right,” Charlotte repeated and took a step closer. A tentative step, her eyes closely watching Sutton. “We were never just friends, even when I convinced myself that we were.”

  She could barely breathe at the words. “But you said – ” She rubbed hard at her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears and with them the confusion and the pain. “You let me go and you didn’t say anything, and I thought – I thought I was wrong.”

  It was everything she’d thought and everything she’d wanted to hear weeks ago. She’d spent so much time telling herself that she had been dumb to say it, even more upset with herself for thinking it was true.

  Charlotte shook her head, so firmly her hair swung over her shoulder, her face setting into a determined look. One that Sutton recognized only from times where Charlotte was practicing for a debate or talking about her career; it was so familiar it made her ache.

  She loved that look.

  “Sutton, I . . .” She took a deep breath, gaze falling to the floor. “From the very beginning, you were so refreshing. This whole world I’m in,” she lifted her hands and gestured in a circle, before she pressed her fingertips together in front of her. “Is full of people who play games and lie and omit the truth and manipulate – and I’m a part of all of it, too. Then there’s you. And you’re so refreshing and honest and genuine, and I was so drawn to that.” Her eyes snapped back to Sutton’s, captivating her. “To you.”

  Her heart was beating so hard, she felt like it might just beat out of her chest. She was at a loss for words as her eyes searched Charlotte’s, seeing nothing but honesty.

  It couldn’t be this easy, not after everything. Right? “But what are you doing here? What about the election? Your career?”

  Sutton couldn’t help but look around. No one was in the hall except security guards down at the entrances. But any one of the hundreds of people – of the politicians – merely feet away, could step out. Could see Charlotte, could hear them, and she lowered her voice, “Aren’t you worried?”

  Charlotte’s throat bobbed with how hard she swallowed, her bottom lip trembling for a moment before she pursed them.