by Nikki Chase
“Hannah, Earl, having seen you together for eight years, I have no doubt that you will have a long and happy marriage.”
As Aubrey casts her gaze across the room, my heart skips a beat. I’m sure her eyes linger on me for a few seconds.
“Please join me in wishing Hannah and Earl the kind of love that will stand the test of time. A toast,” she says as she raises her glass of champagne, “to the happy couple.”
Aubrey
“You know what, Trey? I should really get back to the party.” I force a smile as I look longingly at the hallway, at the end of which I can see the door into the reception hall.
Hannah and Earl’s wedding guests are probably still dancing under a big, silver disco ball. I’m not a big dancer, but right now I’d rather be anywhere else than here.
“Oh, come on. We can have our own little party here,” Trey says as he blocks my path with his body again. His gaze drifts down to my cleavage, even while he’s speaking to me. Rude.
I’ve had it up to here with this guy. I’ve been trying to get back to the wedding for ten solid minutes, but he’s not taking any hints at all. It’s time to be blunt. “Look, Trey, I don’t know what my dad told you, but I’m not interested, okay?”
“You’re going to tell me to fuck off just because your dad likes me?” Trey asks, his thick eyebrows knitted together.
Before I can respond to that inane question, a guy in a suit comes up from behind me, approaches Trey, and pats him on the back. My blood freezes when I realize it’s Aiden.
“Hey, Trey, what are you doing out here, man? The drinks and the dance floor are over there,” he says. It’s crazy how harmless Trey seems now that Aiden’s here, standing easily one foot taller than him.
“Yeah, but the girl’s over here. I’ll see you inside,” Trey says, clearly annoyed by the interruption but masking his irritation with a forced, thin smile.
“Hi, Aubrey,” Aiden says in a cheerful, friendly voice. “You guys are missing out on the best party of the year. You should come back inside with me.” Aiden shoots me a serious look that says he’s offering me a rope back to shore if I’m not having a good time here.
“It really does sound like they’re having a blast,” I say, matching Aiden’s casual tone. “Yeah, I think I should get moving.” I start to take a step down the hallway, but Trey grabs my wrist. “Trey. I said I want to go back inside,” I say slowly.
“You heard the lady,” Aiden says, no longer cordial. He sounds dangerous. Threatening. From the way he stares at Trey, it’s clear he’s willing to use force if Trey doesn’t let go of me.
“Okay,” Trey says in an annoyingly dismissive voice as he drops my hand. He raises both his hands. “Jesus. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a party. Cheer up.”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. You’re welcome to join us inside,” Aiden says to Trey, deliberately acting like he’s oblivious to Trey’s bitter words. Aiden offers me his arm, and I curl my hand around it.
Even through the fabric of his suit, I can feel how solidly he’s built. The ropes of muscles in his arms ripple with his movements as we walk down the hallway. It’s a comforting feeling, knowing a guy like him is on my side.
“You okay, princess?” Aiden asks.
My heart flips in my chest at the mention of his old pet name for me. “Yeah,” I say quickly when I realize he’s still waiting for an answer.
“It looked like he was giving you trouble,” he says.
“Yeah, thanks for your help. He didn’t seem dangerous, though. Just drunk and creepy, which is pretty normal at a wedding.”
Aiden laughs. “I feel bad for womankind if that’s an acceptable thing to happen at weddings.”
“It wasn’t acceptable . . . just . . . I’m used to my dad unleashing pushy, entitled guys on me,” I say.
Aiden laughs again, but wryly this time. “Your dad hasn’t changed much, has he?”
“Not really, no.” I glance over my shoulder, suddenly nervous about walking arm in arm with Aiden when my entire family’s here. “Speaking of my dad, we really shouldn’t be seen together.”
“I swear, Aubrey, I’ve been trying my best to stay away from you. I wanted to come up to talk to you, but I decided to text you instead. Because you warned me about your dad.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the text that just said “nice speech” with a smiley face?” I can’t help but smile at Aiden.
“That’s the one. There weren’t many dry eyes by the time you were done. I’m starting to think maybe you weren’t just ditching me last night. Maybe you were working on that speech.”
“No, actually, I wasn’t. I just didn’t feel like texting you,” I tease him.
“Damn it,” he says. “My first guess was right after all. Do I get any points for getting that right at least?”
The corners of my lips curl up. This is nice. This feels like old times. Light and easy. Aiden meets my gaze and smiles back at me.
“What were you doing back there?” I ask Aiden.
There are harder questions I want to ask him, but for now—for however long this can last—I want things to stay this way.
“I knew you needed me to rescue you,” Aiden says, a mischievous glint dancing in his blue eyes.
“I didn’t need you to rescue me,” I say, perhaps a little too forcefully, considering he has just saved me. But I could’ve handled Trey on my own.
“I know you can take care of yourself, princess,” Aiden says, his voice softening. “I’ve always known that. Your dad’s the only one who can’t see that.”
My heart jumps at another mention of the old pet name. Yes, keep calling me that, a part of me says. But I know I need to be careful, especially when I already feel so much for him.
We remain quiet for a few seconds, our feet moving in tandem to the rhythm of the dance music floating through the corridor from the wedding hall.
“Are you going to remember this tomorrow?” I ask quietly.
“I haven’t drunk a drop of alcohol today,” Aiden says.
“Really? There’s an open bar.”
“Yeah. I want to remember every single thing that happens today.”
“Because it’s Earl’s wedding?”
“Because I finally see you in the flesh again, and I want to be one-hundred percent sure this is not a dream. You’re really here, walking next to me, all grown-up and more beautiful than ever.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. I want to believe him because he really doesn’t look drunk, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to take all those sweet words at face value.
I did once, and I got burned. It would be stupidity of the highest order to make the same mistake with the same guy.
“I always hoped that I’d see you again, but I didn’t think it would be like this. Life’s funny, huh?” Aiden asks.
“It’s not fate,” I say, remembering what he said the last time. “It’s a coincidence.”
The idea of fate makes me feel claustrophobic. It’s like I’m in a small elevator with ten snakes coiling around my body, immobilizing me while they take over my life. I don’t know. Maybe I’m tired of feeling like I’m not in control of my own life.
Aiden’s quiet.
“Sorry,” I say, “I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay. I get it. I was being weird,” Aiden says, cutting me off.
We stop right outside the door of the wedding hall. We both know that if we step foot in there, we’re going to have to pretend we’re strangers again. And neither one of us wants to end things on this awkward note.
“So you never gave me an answer,” I say. “What were you doing back there?”
Aiden chuckles. “I was hiding from Earl’s nosy aunt. She kept asking me all these questions, like what my star sign was and whether I knew my aura said I was ready for love. I felt like she was about to put together her own version of The Bachelor, with her as the host and a bunch of girls from her neighborhood as the cont
estants.”
“Oh . . . ” I give him a sympathetic grimace. Sounds like his day hasn’t been too different from mine.
“Yeah. And then she coughed on me, and I had to go up to my room to change my shirt.”
I laugh at the mental image of Aiden as The Bachelor at a rose ceremony and Earl’s Aunt Greta coughing all over the roses, ruining the show.
Aiden’s laughing, too, but mostly because I’m laughing. He gazes at me with so much tenderness my heart aches at the sight.
His pupils have dilated, darkening his eyes and making them seem even deeper. I can’t help but get drawn to them, like there’s a force pulling us closer together.
“You look amazing tonight,” he says as he takes another step, closing the gap between us.
My heart hammers in my chest, and my whole body feels unstable. “Thanks,” I whisper. “You do, too.”
“I mean it.” Aiden’s breath falls hot on my skin.
He’s too close—someone’s going to see us. But at the same time, he’s too far away, and I need him right against me, skin on skin.
Aiden seems to feel the same way, because he puts his hand on my waist and pulls me close.
“We shouldn’t,” I say. “Someone might see.”
“Just one minute.” Aiden puts his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.
I can’t help but melt into his touch. Before I know it, my eyes are closed and my head is tilted up, while Aiden leans down and puts his lips on mine.
It’s gentle, tentative, and more than just a little bit scary, this kiss we’re sharing. It feels new like the first one, but I know these lips and the way they kiss—I replay his kisses in my head all the time.
“I miss you, princess,” Aiden says when he pulls away.
My body tenses. “There it is again. ‘Princess.’”
I break free of Aiden’s arms, which only seconds ago felt like heaven.
I raise my gaze to meet his. “I’m not your princess now, Aiden. I used to be, but you just disappeared without an explanation. I waited for you all night at our meeting point. I waited until the diner closed and they shooed me out, luggage and all.”
I want to add that it was raining, too, to add insult to injury, considering I was literally in a desert city. But I think I’ve gotten the message across.
Regret and realization flash in Aiden’s eyes, but there’s something else: hurt.
He was the one who left me hanging; what’s he got to feel hurt about?
Aiden opens his mouth. But before he can say anything, the big door opens.
Music blares from the gap through which I can see the party. It’s in full swing now. With flashing lights and a popular dance number to set the mood, Hannah and Earl’s wedding guests are getting wild on the floor.
I take one big step away from Aiden when I realize the person who’s just opened the door is my dad.
“Aubrey, you’re here. Your sister’s looking for you,” Dad says with a big smile on his face.
I let out a surreptitious breath of relief. He didn’t see the kiss or suspect anything.
“Yeah, I was just getting her some powder from upstairs. Took me a while to find it,” I say, pulling out the compact from the pocket in my dress before I follow Dad back inside.
I glance back over my shoulder and catch a glimpse of Aiden. Looks like I’m getting texts with sad emojis tonight.
Aiden
“Are you in Vegas?” Mom asks. She talks slowly, enunciating every word to make sure I listen. This is how she always speaks when she's unhappy with me.
Great. I’ve got not one, but two women angry at me.
“Mom, I don't know what you're talking about,” I say calmly into the phone.
“A, you know I don't like it when you lie to me,” she says. “Have you forgotten that we're friends on Facebook? I saw the pictures someone just posted of you.”
I knew those fucking cameras were trouble.
“A?” Mom says when I remain quiet.
“Mom, you remember Earl?” I ask.
“What does that have to do with anything? Are you or are you not in Vegas?” she demands.
“That has to do with everything. And I’m sure you remember Earl. He was this kid a few years older than me. He used to bring us food whenever his aunt came to visit with her baked goods. You liked her blueberry cookies.”
“Greta. She was a great baker, but I didn't like listening to her talk for hours about her boring life.” Mom says. “I remember Earl. Now, I’ve answered your question. How about you answer mine now?”
“Well, my question was the first part of my answer. The second part is, it's Earl’s wedding.” I give it a dramatic pause. “You know how close we used to be. I hadn’t seen him again since he moved to Vegas years ago. Today’s his wedding, and I couldn't have missed it.”
The line goes quiet except for Mom’s breathing, which grows more labored by the second. Even though we’re in completely different cities, separated by hundreds of miles of brown desert, the intense silence turns my whole hotel room cold.
“So you are in Vegas?” Mom asks again.
“Mom, I don’t want you to worry. I’m not drunk driving or burning my entire savings at the casino. I’ve just been spending some time with old friends. It’s just a wedding. It’s completely safe.
“You remember how scared Earl’s aunt was of crossing the road, and yet she’s here in Vegas too, and she seems to think things are great.” I speak slowly.
I don’t mean to treat her like a child, but she’s irrationally afraid of this city, and I feel like I need to spell everything out to her if I want the slightest chance of putting her mind at ease.
Mom stops hyperventilating enough to quickly say, “I can’t believe you’re in Vegas.” She takes three urgent breaths. “This is—” two more breaths “—the only thing I asked from you.” Her voice shakes. “You cannot be in Vegas.”
“Mom, I know bad things happened to Dad when we were living here, but I’m not him, okay? I’ll stay safe.”
I don’t know if it’s a good idea to bring up my late dad into a phone conversation where my mom is already on the verge of hysteria, but I don’t know how else to get her to listen.
She still doesn’t say a word.
“Mom, I’m telling you I’m perfectly fine. The wedding’s already over, and I’m going home first thing tomorrow anyway.” I check my watch. “Look, it’s already late. You probably have work early in the morning. You should take your pill and go to sleep. I’ll be there when you wake up, okay?”
I swear, the moment I start making good money, I’m sending Mom to a shrink. She needs to get this phobia under control. She can’t expect me to live my life governed by the same fear.
“Stay away from your old girlfriend,” Mom says all of a sudden in a clear voice.
My heart races. “Who?”
I have a few ex-girlfriends in Vegas, even though I moved away at sixteen. What can I say? I grew up pretty fast.
“The rich one. The one with the doctor dad,” Mom says quietly. Her voice is small.
“Aubrey?” For some reason, I’m not surprised. Aubrey was the girlfriend I had when we moved away.
“Maybe. I don’t remember her name.”
“Why?” I ask. My head hurts. I raise my hand up to my face to massage my temples.
“She…” Mom lets her voice hang in the air, her sentence unfinished.
“She what?” I insist.
“She’s bad luck.”
Of course. That’s her answer for everything, especially after Dad’s deadly car crash.
“Mom, you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep telling me not to do this and not to do that, when you don’t have a good reason.”
When Mom speaks again, her voice is shaking, like she’s terrified. “Oh, no. You’ve already met her, haven’t you?”
“Mom, she doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Dad. I know you think everything’s interconnected, but
Aubrey has no idea the accident even happened.” I know I’ve said the wrong thing when I hear her sharp gasp.
“You’ve talked to her,” she says in an accusing tone.
“Mom, I don’t know what the problem is. You never showed any signs that you didn’t like her.”
“Stay away from her,” she says sternly.
“Mom, I’m not five. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t talk to.”
Sometimes I wish we had enough money for me to move out and live on my own, but my mom would still be the same volatile person. And instead of putting an end to this kind of talk, I’d just be forced to calm her down over the phone like I’m doing—which, by the way, is harder than just doing it in person as usual.
“You can’t see her,” Mom says, not even acknowledging what I just said.
“Mom, I couldn’t not see her. She’s the maid of honor at Earl’s wedding. She’s the bride’s sister.”
“You saw her dad, too?” Mom asks urgently, terror in her voice.
I weigh my options. I can lie, but she’s going to see right through it. Or, I can tell her the truth, but I have a feeling that’ll freak her out even more.
Why all this fuss about Aubrey anyway?
Mom’s always been weird about Vegas, but she’s never said much about Aubrey until today.
“I saw her dad from a distance, I guess. He was at the wedding, but we didn’t speak much,” I say.
Also, he hates my guts and Aubrey tells me to stay the fuck away from him, I think to myself. But I keep this information to myself. I don’t want to agitate Mom even more.
“Stay away from that man,” Mom says, her voice trembling.
The way this conversation is going, I feel like I’ll end up being forbidden from seeing anyone ever again.
“Mom, I don’t intend to talk to the man. But you can’t keep telling me what to do and who to talk to.” I let out a big sigh. “Listen, we’ll talk when I see you at home, okay?”
Our schedules don’t always sync up because we’re both always busy working, so we don’t see each other every day even though we live together.
But as soon as I see my mom, I need to finally persuade her that we can afford therapy for her, despite our shitty insurance. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a necessity at this point. Her paranoia is taking over both our lives.
