Free for the Wedding

by Briggs, Laura

  There was silence; she could feel his shock as she continued speaking.

  “Heather never even knew about it. See, I knew she would turn it down and that you would be hurt. You wouldn't be friends anymore with–with either of us. So I wrote back in her place.”

  “You wrote it.” He said it slowly, as if trying to understand.

  “It was wrong of me, I know, but you deserved an answer as genuine as your own words. And I wanted you to have an answer that meant you would forgive her and wouldn't be mad.”

  She paused, heart hammering as she recalled the familiar opening:

  “You probably think of me as just a friend, and I guess I’m lucky to even be that. But with someone as great as you, I can’t help hoping for something more…”

  Embarrassment seeped into her thoughts. She fully expected him to walk away at this point; or to laugh at her. What a betrayal this must seem like, a stupid confession after all these years and after listening to him describe it for days in glowing terms.

  Something brushed her face. His fingers, gently moving the strands of auburn as he searched her gaze. “It was you,” he murmured. “All along. All those years and the whole time–”

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just cared about you. I didn't want to lose you as a friend, so I made it up."

  He cradled her face. Gazing into her face as she felt herself melt beneath those blue eyes once again. He hesitated, then his mouth found hers in a soft kiss.

  A sensation she had dreamed about countless times in her youth–and a few times this week–never knowing how to imagine it. Only, she never expected it to be like this. A numbness where there should have been warmth, the taste of disappointment in his touch that was palpable to her senses.

  There was no spark, no rush of warmth. No urge to pull him closer as there had been that moment on the dance floor with someone else.

  Her eyes fluttered open as she drew away, her gaze angled towards the glass windows of the ballroom. Where a figure stood watching, hands stuffed awkwardly in their pockets.

  Riley. She blinked back her tears as the figure turned and disappeared from sight.

  What was wrong with her? Her feelings crumbling, her world tumbling into confusion. She shouldn't be kissing Jason; and she shouldn’t be thinking about Riley during it at all. Everything was turning out wrong, as if her reactions were upside-down.

  Before her, Jason's breath stirred her hair. He was facing her, gazing into her eyes as his fingers gently brushed her mouth.

  “No,” she whispered, stepping away. Tears burned her eyes, regret washing over her. “This isn't right,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she turned and hurried away. Escaping before he could see the tears stream down her face.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The day before the wedding dawned gray and drizzly. A perfect match for Val’s mood.

  Last night’s events seemed foggy, almost dreamlike, until she opened her eyes and saw the formal dress hanging on the wall and the high heels piled by the bed, where she had hurriedly shed them in the in the dark. Cinderella the day after, she thought with a frustrated groan.

  Only the fantasy of her Prince Charming had dissolved with the pumpkin carriage. Her friends' future marriage was on the edge of doom and her heart was confused beyond measure.

  When she fled last night, she managed to avoid seeing anyone else from the rehearsal dinner. Tears covering her face, her sobs continued after she was locked safely in the room.

  What had she expected–a fairytale ending to a real life dilemma? As if fireworks and a parade would commence the moment she confessed their secret connection, her authorship of the words that changed his whole outlook on romance. That Jason would confess himself to have loved her all these years?

  She touched her mouth, fingers tracing the spot his lips had kissed. Shouldn’t there be a feeling behind that kiss, other than guilt? The feeling that Jason was kissing someone or something else–the romance connected to the note, for instance. Not like when Riley – but here, her mind pushed the thought away, as if its touch was too strong for her to bear.

  Her feet tangled with the shoes in the floor as she shoved them aside, pulling open her suitcase. Rooting around, she searched for something practical to face whatever scene waited downstairs.

  She had to find a way to make this right. Not just for herself, but for everyone else. Heather’s hurt expression from the rehearsal dinner flashed through her mind, competing with the image of the groom on the dock. His eyes full of disappointment as he cradled her face.

  Val attempted not to think about the shadowy figure watching from the glassed ball room. He wasn’t a part of this equation, after all. Last night couldn’t affect him as anything more than a concerned bystander witnessing a car wreck from the highway.

  Downstairs, a gloom hung over the hotel that had nothing to do with the dark clouds outside. The wedding guest’s spirited activity had been reduced to murmured conversations and meaningful glances.

  “…apparently she’s refusing to speak to anyone,” the former prom queen was saying in a hushed exchange with Andrea by the elevator.

  “I can't believe that they would actually postpone the wedding,” Andrea answered. Her arched brows implying the decision would be a permanent measure rather than a temporary setback.

  Others were trading similar tidbits as they lurked by the bar and returned from a morning’s pampering at the spa. To Val’s guilty conscience, it seemed they must be whispering about what happened between herself and Jason. The moment that had failed to be perfect after years of fantasy, even with the truth finally revealed.

  “Excuse me.” Jason brushed past her as she moved towards the lounge, misery etched in his face. He glanced back for only a moment, before disappearing through the elevator doors. His expression hurt her deeply, as if she was looking at a wounded animal slipping away.

  From a quiet corner in the lounge, Val watched rain drops spatter the window panes. She drew her knees beneath her chin, arms hugging her legs as she let the events of the last few hours invade her thoughts.

  She didn't believe Jason loved her. She wasn't stupid. Did he love Heather, however– and did she love him? Aching with sorrow, she let her cheek rest on her knees.

  Her heart skipped as another reflection joined hers in the glass. Dark hair mussed, his eyes as sleepless as her own as he lingered uncertainly behind her chair. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Riley asked, his voice as dull as she felt.

  She shrugged in response, her eyes returning to the view out the window. An empty tennis court and bleachers that held zero fascination for her right now. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to meet the brown gaze she knew was studying her with either criticism or disappointment.

  “So last night at the dock,” he fumbled in a quiet tone. “Was that you and–”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes, pulse pounding in her temples with a rushing sound. There was no need to give him the details. He must know already how likely it was the wedding would be canceled, how the part of the villain in all this could easily shape into herself.

  “I thought maybe I was seeing things,” he explained. “From the moonlight or the spiked punch or maybe both…”

  The nervous rambling was making her tense. “Please let me handle this,” she said, turning around suddenly to face him. “It’s what I’ve always done, and I can do it again. I can fix all of this. I just need time to do it.”

  She didn’t even convince herself, the underlying tremble reaching her ears. Riley stared down at her with hesitation.

  “This may seem out of line coming from me,” he answered, “but I think you’re lying to yourself. There’s not a perfect solution for everything, Val, and you can’t just force one.”

  She turned back to the window. “Thanks. But I don’t need advice from someone who doesn’t know what he wants. When you figure it out for yourself, then let me know what happens.”

 
An unfair shot, but she was feeling defensive and cornered in her misery. Riley shuffled his weight, a motion reflected in the glass.

  “You were right in the first place, that this was personal. So if it’s your heart that’s involved…” He stopped speaking for a moment, as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. “I just hope you’ll think about what you're buying into first.”

  "Thanks," she answered, huddling lower in her chair.

  When he spoke again, there was a catch in his voice she didn’t quite understand. “Maybe there is a role for destiny in all this, Val. Maybe sometimes we get hurt to find something out about ourselves.”

  His eyes met hers in the glass, quiet resignation in the brown depths. “Some things are bound to happen no matter what you do to stop them.”

  Was he talking about her heartbreak? She couldn’t bring herself to ask, her breath catching with the look in his eyes. Until he broke the spell, his image turning and strolling away from her to the door.

  *****

  The rain didn’t stop until almost dusk.

  Val unlatched her bedroom window, leaning out to breathe in the damp air. A cool breeze fanned her face, her eyes taking in the canopy of light that swayed above the dock.

  Leaning against the rail at the end was Jason, his gaze searching the water with a sadness she could feel even from a distance. Tomorrow was supposed to be his wedding, an event that hung in the balance even as the midnight hour approached. No word on whether it would take place. No sign of Heather today, who was still hiding in her room.

  Was there a reason for any of this? She contemplated the question after Riley’s advice left her feeling unsettled. The notion of tampering with someone’s destiny, even her own, was a bigger responsibility than she cared to perpetrate. After all, she had already interfered in it once, which was how she ended up here.

  Perhaps it was time to stop fighting the hand of fate, she thought. In fact, maybe she could even give it a little boost.

  *****

  Val rapped twice on the bride’s door before sliding the envelope beneath. Tucked inside, the paper yellowed with age, but unmistakable with its author’s message of heartfelt devotion.

  She lingered hopefully by the door, listening for movements within. She could see the movement of Heather's shadow cross the lighted crack below. Then she turned and crept down the hall to her own room.

  If nothing else, the note had finally made it into the right hands.

  Upstairs, Val’s head rested against her arms as she sat alone in her room. Most of the guests were busy tonight with the hotel's open bar and a chocolate tasting in the main dining room. Her window showed a scene similar to her own circumstances. Below, the groom standing morosely on the dock.

  His pain must be heavier than her own. He didn't need the comfort of a friend, especially not one whose presence had only confused his feelings. Meddling hadn’t worked years ago, and this week was proof that little had changed since.

  The faint click of a door shutting in the hallway roused her to a sitting position. Soundlessly, she cracked her own door and peered into the hall. Catching only a shadow as footsteps died away.

  Restless, Val turned away. She closed her door, then moved to her window again.

  She could hear the footsteps crunching the gravel path to the pond. Val watched as a second figure approached the dock. Heather’s honey-colored hair gleaming in the lantern light, a piece of stationery clutched in her hand.

  Jason turned at the sound of her voice. The hands tucked in his pockets, the helpless posture of his body, seemed to freeze. No attempt to move towards her or to speak as he studied her across the dock.

  Glancing at the paper in her hand, the bride read aloud in a voice that resonated clearly on the night air.

  “You probably think of me as just a friend, and I guess I’m lucky to even be that. But with someone as great as you, I can’t help hoping for something more."

  She looked up, her gaze seeking his own. "I do hope for something more," she said. "Only I think we need to be friends too, even if it’s hard.”

  Returning her gaze to the paper she scanned it until she found the next line. “I know we don’t have tons in common, but that doesn’t matter at all to me. I think I could enjoy anything if you were with me…”

  A sob caught in her throat, “I want that to be true. And I think it could be, because–” glancing at the paper again, as she said, “I really think we’re meant to be. Do you feel at all the same about me?”

  She let the question hang in the air, her own feelings clear.

  Jason moved towards her, closing the gap between them. His arms encircling her in an embrace that lifted her from the dock.

  "I do," he answered. His lips pressed against hers; her arms twined around his neck passionately, holding him tightly.

  Destiny, Val supposed. She shut the window, her lips moving into a smile even as the last twinges of disappointment died away with her long-ago crush.

  The two figures below slipped away from the dock. They disappeared up the walkway to the hotel, until only the empty dock and water was left to Val's gaze.

  In her mind was not the image of Jason and Heather, but the thought of Riley's reflection behind her own this morning. The look in his eyes as he reminded her that some things are meant to be. Some fates are destined, no matter what happens to hold them back.

  Whether it was the look in his eyes, the kiss on the dance floor, she couldn’t be certain. But something urged her towards him, an ache to see or speak to him. Maybe thank him for everything he did – although her heart was not truly certain it was merely the impulsive business tactics which were responsible for this feeling.

  Rising from the window, she crept to her door and opened it. Riley's door was closed, but she was not certain if he was on the other side. She had not seen him in hours, as if he were avoiding her now.

  Val paused outside his door. A strip of light still shone below, as if proof that he was within.

  “Riley?” she said. Her fingers rapped gently against the wood, her mind rehearsing what to say next. That she was sorry for speaking coldly. For not admitting he was right and appreciating the kind of measures he went through to make her happy. For making her truly, impulsively happy in a handful of moments she would never forget.

  But it was unnecessary, this moment of preparation. The light vanished from beneath the door in response to the sound of her voice.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The sound of the wedding march being played on a grand piano drifted faintly through the hotel lobby. It was two hours until the ceremony and preparations were in full swing, with caterers rushing to and fro and a band rehearsal taking place in the lounge.

  Val nearly collided with a florist delivery on her way out of the elevator. Her heels darted deftly to the side, as she searched the crowd of formally-attired guests for a certain lean build and dark hair.

  Knocking on Riley’s door–repeatedly and with great energy–had proved futile that morning. Which meant he either wasn’t there or simply wasn’t interested in accepting her apology.

  She hoped it was the former, though last night’s trick with the lamp told her otherwise. She had hurt him and, in a strange way, it made her frantic to think she had done so. In her mind, the hurt upon Riley's face when he witnessed her kiss had taken a different form.

  Was it possible that he was disappointed by the thought that she had feelings for someone else? It seemed incredible, given how little time they had known each other. Even the gentleness in his voice that night on the dance floor, the kiss they shared, might only have been another attempt to make her feel attractive.

  Someone touched her arm and Val turned to confront a smiling Heather. Still dressed in her casual clothes, she carried a large bouquet of roses that suggested the groom had been on an errand of his own amidst the wedding chaos.

  Her free arm pulled Val into a quick hug. “It was you, wasn't it?” she asked.

  Val hesitated. Then
she nodded. "It was," she said. "I'm sorry. You deserved the chance to answer back then."

  Heather's smile softened a little. "Maybe if you hadn't done it, we wouldn't be here," she said. "I think I owe you a thank-you for that one."

  Heather’s attention was drawn away by someone frantically waving her towards the elevator. A bridesmaid, judging from the shortened tulle dress with matching gloves.

  “See you at the ceremony!” Heather promised. All but jumping up and down as the elevator doors slid shut on her excitement.

  Val glanced inside the lounge, seeing only a handful of patrons scattered throughout the bar and seating area. The dining area and ballrooms were cordoned off for wedding preparations, ruling out the only other likely places.

  Back upstairs, she paused to rap on his door again. Her ear pressed to the wood, as she strained to hear any faint movement beyond.

  He had a right to avoid her, to stay mad forever if he chose. A fact that thoroughly depressed her, a sigh escaping her lips as she unlocked her own room.

  Stepping inside, her foot slid against something lying just across the threshold. A piece of paper was folded into a square, the name Valarie printed in perfectly symmetrical handwriting.

  Something made her hesitate to unfold it, her eyes studying the letters with quiet dread.

  “Dear Val,

  Don’t read this if you’ve already decided to make things work with Jason. Because if you’re happy, then you don’t need to ruin it by reading about someone else’s problem (and I know how you feel about those).

  If you’re still reading though, think about this:

  I love you.

  This isn’t a lie, I promise, though you shouldn’t need ample proof of that. I’ve been kidding myself to think I wanted to help you win over this crowd or win anyone else’s heart. Even if it started out that way, it didn’t last because I’ve done everything I could to sabotage your romance and make people think I'm the luckiest boyfriend on the planet.