“You coming in to say hi?” he asked uncertainly.
Rory only shook her head, not even allowing herself a full glimpse of the O’Shea home. All the guys were gathering here this morning for a groom’s breakfast. She imagined there would be pictures on the lawn, and lots of laughter in the big kitchen. In her current state, with all that celebration and liveliness occurring in such a familiar scene in her past, it only made her feel like some old ghost come to haunt the place. She just wanted to drop Murph off and get out of here fast—fearing that’s exactly what she might turn into.
“You think maybe you should just talk to him again?”
He seemed ill at ease to bring up this topic, so she appreciated his effort.
“No. It’s done,” she said quietly.
“Well, see you later then. Thanks again.” Murph lifted his hand briefly as she pulled back out to zoom off.
She flew by the driveway of her mother’s house only seconds later. It didn’t appear that anyone was home. They were both early risers, and probably already up and out to start their day.
Idling at the end of their street, she intended to head back downtown and to the old beach road, but her burst of purpose left her suddenly drained. Murph had his suit and was delivered to the proper address. There was nothing for her to do all the rest of this morning but wait. Rory wished this day was already long over, just a faint memory, as much as she wished it never came at all.
Easing the car over to a grassy embankment, scraping up against a wild, leafy tangle of beach plum shrubs, she sat a moment, her hands gripping the wheel. Finally she cut the engine and got out of the car, wandering down to the ancient seawall.
Parts of the cut stone were crumbling, falling off into the rocky waters below, and the old wood dock was warped, dipping low in the center, probably full of splinters. In all likelihood, the town would soon tear it down.
She stood there a while, arms folded across her chest, to gaze out over the harbor inlet, once her backyard.
When they were very young, there was a real beach here with a wide strip of soft, pale sand. All the mothers in the neighborhood would bring the kids down, with shovels and pails, lunches packed. According to family legend, it was where Rory took her first toddling steps. Yet, over time, the pounding waves washed it away.
Eventually everything would disappear with the tide, shifting the landscape of her life.
It was overcast this morning, a dreary, sticky kind of pale that blocked the sun, yet somehow managed to intensify its uncomfortable glare. It hurt her achy eyes to even look at the sky.
“Hey.”
Rory whipped her head around, startled by the proximity of the unexpected voice behind her.
“Matt.” She recovered quickly, though her heart still pounded. “What are you doing here?”
“I was, ah, taking a walk,” he said, hesitating before his voice grew quieter. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m glad, though.”
“Me too,” she said, speaking just as softly though they were surrounded by nothing but sea and air. “I wanted the chance to tell you how sorry I am about everything. I had no right to put you in that position. That was really wrong of me. And I would hate to think—well, let’s just say if I got hit by a bus tomorrow? I would hate to think that was your last memory of me.”
“A bus…” He nodded his head on a thoughtful murmur, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I did not think of that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He quickly shook his head, meeting her eyes again with a halfhearted grin.
That’s when Rory really noticed how troubled he looked, his dark blue eyes not holding any of their usual sparkle of energy and liveliness, shadowed with fatigue and lack of sleep. A glimpse of another old memory—of finding him here at nine years old when his beloved family dog had died overnight—made her heart lurch.
He certainly didn’t look the way she imagined someone should look the morning of their wedding, and Rory realized that, once again, she’d come back into his life to only cause him grief. She’d acted selfishly where he was concerned for so long, putting her fears before his feelings. It was wrong of her to let that pattern of behavior to continue now, when they were finally supposed to be adults, to the point where she’d nearly ruined what should be the happiest day in his life.
With complete, heartbreaking clarity, Rory now realized that there had never been anyone else, not really, and that all her chances to tell him that, tell him so that he really understood how much she loved him, were behind her.
He was such a permanent fixture inside her heart maybe she’d fooled herself into believing that he somehow, in a way, belonged to her. But he didn’t belong to her. She had only been lucky enough to have him in her life for a while, and now their time was up.
You’re never really prepared to lose the people you love. You trick yourself into thinking there will be more time, one more day, to say the things you really want to say, maybe because the alternative is just too devastating a concept to imagine. That life without them wouldn’t seem much like life at all. Not the one you know.
However, what if you knew that this was the last day, the last moment, you could talk to the person you loved most. Really talk to them, that is, not just idle chatter about the weather or work, family or friends.
What would you say—when “don’t go” is not an option, and when the moment you should have said “stay” has come and gone? When nothing is really left but the one word you thought you would never have to use.
Rory bowed her head to begin, wanting for once to get this absolutely right.
“Matt, I just want you to know that that I think you’re…” She swallowed back the threat of tears and tried to steady her voice. The lump lodged tight in her throat made it painful to speak, but that was nothing compared to the deep, bottomless ache in her chest that made it difficult to even breathe. “That you’ve grown up to be an amazing person. And, that you deserve so much happiness because you’ve always brought happiness to everyone around you.” She was quickly losing her battle, the tears springing forth to dull her eyes. Bowing her head to cover, she struggled to finish and be strong. “You’re one of the good ones, and I wish so many good things for you.”
He frowned slightly. “Thank you, Rory. That means a lot to me.”
It didn’t really sound like him. Maybe everything had already changed.
With a small smile, not really trusting her voice anymore, she moved to go.
“I guess I should let you get ready.”
***
Matt sucked in a silent breath, balanced on the edge of the seawall, the fleeting contact as she brushed past nearly doubling him over in pain like a hard punch to the gut. The words felt ripped from his chest, and scraped his throat raw.
“You didn’t come home.”
Rory hesitated, glancing back. “What?”
Turning away from the water, he met her teary gaze with his own.
“You didn’t come home—at Christmas,” he said in a small, husky voice. “And I…I figured that was it.”
She pressed her trembling lips together and wiped the corner of her eye, nodding her head once in understanding before walking away.
By the time he found his way back to his parent’s house, it was full of people. His brother Danny was waiting for him on the porch, already halfway dressed in his tux.
“Matty boy! Where did you go? You missed breakfast!”
“Don’t you mean my last meal?” he muttered, not bothering to glance over as he trudged up the front steps.
Danny dropped his head with a laugh. “Nah, I’m done with the jokes.” He clapped his hands together like they were about to play the big game. “You ready for this, or what?”
“I guess so.”
“Well, I gotta tell you, this whole wedding thing has really put the heat on me.”
Matt nodded his head, a touch of knowing amusement in his sad smile as he leaned back to rest on the porch rai
ling. “Come on, Eileen.”
Danny moved to sit with him. “My younger brother, settling down before twenty-five with someone he’s dated less than a year? Believe me, I’ve been hearing it all.”
“Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Not your fault.” He brushed it off, admitting, “And it’s not like I never think about it. I just don’t feel like there’s any rush. I bought the house this year, and it needs work. I gotta put some time and labor in there. If all goes to plan, I’ll turn it around as a rental income property a couple years down the road and then look to buy something more permanent. Plus I need to put in as much time as I can on the job right now, if I ever want to be in line for any promotions.”
“You’ve got a lot of great excuses there,” he observed.
His brother delivered one of his booming laughs. “Oh, don’t I ever!” He then grew a little more serious. “It’s a big thing, though—taking that leap of faith. The way I see it, you might only get one chance in this life. So I give you credit. I’m not sure I can do it.”
Matt drew in another shaky breath. It still hurt. Maybe it always would.
“Would it really be a leap for you, though?” he asked with a distracted frown. “I mean—if you ever wanted to ask Eileen to marry you, at least you know it’s what she wants, too. You know she loves you back. At least you know that.”
Danny tilted his head to regard him somewhat skeptically.
“And why do you make it sound like you don’t know that about Amanda?”
Matt halted, his face going blank. His mouth opened to attempt a reply, but it was as if he’d suddenly lost the words.
“Or, are we not talking about Amanda here?”
They sat on the porch a moment longer, stirred only by a gentle breeze off the distant harbor, seagulls circling in a gray sky. Then he clasped a hand on his shoulder, moving to go into the house.
“One chance, Matty,” he said. “Maybe it’s all we get. Maybe it’s more than we could’ve ever asked for.”
TWENTY-TWO
Wading into the gentle surf, Rory gazed out at the soft pink light settling over the beach, the ocean sparkling in glints of gold. She laid her red board flat on the glossy water before laying herself on it to paddle out, cutting a path through the quiet water.
Sunset was approaching, the crowds were finally all gone, and the typically cold-churned Atlantic felt sun-warmed and tranquil. She looked forward to these late afternoons, swimming out until she was a mere speck in the sea. The vast majesty of the ocean scenery overwhelmed, but it was also a place she felt most at ease.
She reached a certain spot before pausing to simply let the tidal current take her with it. Resting her chin on her hand, she swung her arm in a long arc through the cool water, buoyed on salty waves.
He caught up to her in a few soft splashes, rocking her off balance just slightly.
“I could stay out here forever,” she said.
“Is that right, Starlight?”
It was his new nickname for her this summer, apparently replacing the formerly seeped-in-sarcasm Sunshine. She didn’t really know where it came from—something about the combination of the way her long eyelashes clumped together in pointed rays when wet like this, and how her eyes sometimes sparkled when she laughed.
“I pretty much scored us the perfect summer job, huh?” Matt sat partially upright on his lifeguard board, legs in the water as he supported his weight on his arms.
“You did good,” she replied in acknowledgement.
“I did what? Eh? One more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, waiting with a grin.
Rory only splashed cold salt water in his direction and laughed. She had to admit that life-guarding at the town beach was better than bagging groceries, serving up greasy cartons of fried clams, or scooping ice cream for tourists all summer.
“He asked if we were going to be available next year, by the way. I must have really impressed everyone with my lifesaving skills.”
“Undoubtedly. That one Band-Aid you retrieved from the first-aid kit that one time was quite a heroic feat. But sorry—next summer I’ll probably be backpacking through Europe.”
“Oh yeah?” he said, playing along even though they both knew it was a rather improbable dream. But it was almost the end of summer, they were barely sixteen, and out here, far from solid land, two tiny figures floating on an endless sea, all possibilities were allowed.
“Mm-hmm The French Riviera, the Greek Islands, and then all of Italy.”
“I’ll skip the crepes and baklava, but meatballs, fettuccini, calzones? I’m in.”
She smiled. “That’s all it takes, huh?”
“Why? Oh—you didn’t think it would have anything to do with you, did you?” he asked, feigning a confused frown.
“Perish the thought.” She turned her head to gaze back at the distant beach. They needed to head back to store gear and lock up for the day. “We should go.”
They measured their swim strokes in unison, taking their time on the way in.
“Hey, did you see Drew Aarons on his skim board this afternoon?” She glanced over at him. “He nearly took out a group of elderly women and three toddlers in one fell swoop. Then he got all pissy when I told him to move it down to the other end of the beach. He’s such a jerk.”
“You want I should rough him up for ya, boss?” Matt grinned and laughed off her look as they drew closer to the shore. “I know, I know…I’m a jerk, too, right?”
“No, trust me—you’re nothing like Drew Aarons. Not even in the same category. He’s a jerk by definition, if there ever was one,” she clarified. “He treats people badly, as if there’s something wrong with them, yet he’s totally incapable of seeing anything wrong with himself.” She blew out a soft breath, her strokes shifting into slow paddles as they reached shallow water. “So, yes, you’re a jerk, but more like this big loveable goof, dumbass type of one.”
She swung off the board, toes touching sand, and glanced over to notice the look he was giving her.
“What?” she said, smoothing the wet hair back off her forehead.
He slid off his board, feet hitting sand as well. And his smile spread slowly.
“You just called me loveable.”
She hesitated, cheeks flushed. “I did not.”
“Yes, you did. You just said it. You said I was loveable.”
“I said you were a jerk. And a goof. And a dumbass.”
“A loveable jerk. Loveable, meaning one who attracts love.” He tilted his head. “Ergo, you love me—and are also very possibly attracted to me.”
Rory shook her head, trudging in through the low rolling waves that splashed at their ankles, but she refused to look directly at him.
“You’ve read maybe one book in the last two years and suddenly you’re an expert in the English language?”
He waded in behind her, chuckling softly under his breath.
“Maybe I’m just an expert in the language of love.”
She dragged her board up onto the sand, rolling her eyes at him as she tried not to laugh, too.
“You can admit it, Rory. All your hidden feelings.” He dropped his board on top of hers, and reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder. “It will feel better to just let it out.”
Narrowing her gaze, she tried not to notice how soft and warm his hand felt on her bare skin, or how blue his eyes looked against his tan.
“You know what would make me feel better right now?” she asked.
“What?”
“This.”
She gave him a quick, hard shove in the center of his smooth chest, easily toppling him when the backs of his muscled calves hit the two surfboards behind him. He landed flat on his ass in the sand.
“Oh, you are so dead!” he laughed grimly, jumping right back up.
Rory stifled a little shriek of laughter as she darted away, but he cut her off at the pass. She turned, shifting directions, and ran straight into the water with him closing in behind.
Splashing through the shallow tide, the salty spray kicked up in brilliant metallic shimmers all around them in the softly fading sunlight. She gasped in breathless laughter as he caught her knee-deep in the waves, grabbing her at the waist to swing her around.
“Matt, no!”
He held her sideways, arm slung around her midsection.
“What? You don’t want to go for a little dunk?”
“No!” she pleaded.
“Then just admit you love me.”
He righted her, adjusting his hold to place her down in front of him in the water. Her feet touched bottom, the gentle nudge of the tidal current sending her right into him on an incoming wave. Her hands went up instinctively for balance, fingertips resting gently on his bare stomach.
Matt glanced down to where she touched him. As he lifted his eyes back to hers, she knew he was no longer joking.
There was a moment where neither one of them moved a muscle, or even seemed to breathe. Then his hands came up to gently hold her face. Slowly, tentatively, his mouth came down on hers. For the first time ever, Rory didn’t pull back or push away, but lifted her chin to meet him halfway.
The touch of his lips was soft and warm, the kiss wet and sparkling, and it sent the strangest sort of golden, thrilling calm throughout her whole body.
It felt just like her favorite time of day.
TWENTY-THREE
The heat continued to rise throughout the day, temperatures soaring with the humidity. Instead of offering relief in the form of a quick rain shower, the clouds only settled on the horizon, thick and heavy and full of empty promises.
The church where the ceremony was being held sat on a small harbor bluff, but the ocean wasn’t playing along either. It refused to cast even the slightest gust of wind their way. A local historic landmark, built sometime in the 1700s, it still had the original state-of-the-art air conditioning system installed at that time—small, thick paned glass windows. As a result, the atmosphere inside, uncomfortable wooden benches crowded with elegantly (and therefore overly) dressed guests, ranged from stuffy to stifling to downright oppressive.
Had To Be You Page 24
