Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9)

by Heather Wardell

  "I can't believe that. How could you be disappointing?"

  As I spoke, I realized he'd only disappointed me the once, right when we broke up. Our other problems had come from my irrational reaction to his lack of drive. Beyond that, he'd been the perfect boyfriend, and since his drive hadn't affected me at all I shouldn't have cared at all. So why had I cared so intensely?

  I put that aside to think about later, because he was smiling and saying, "That's so sweet of you."

  "It's not sweet, it's true."

  His eyes held mine and he murmured, "Thank you." Then he cleared his throat and went on. "But I manage it, I'm afraid. I have no fashion sense, I read too much, I'm into those 'disgusting horror movies'..."

  His tone on the last words, clearly an imitation of hers, made me reach out and give his shoulder a squeeze. "That's crazy. What's disgusting about chopping someone up with a hatchet?"

  He gave an elaborate shrug. "No idea. Something, apparently."

  We grinned at each other, and I said, trying not to sound awkward and failing miserably, "I'm sorry things aren't going better with her."

  His smile rivaled my words for awkwardness. "Thanks. And I'm glad you're doing so well. That's all I wanted when we broke up."

  "It was?"

  He nodded. "Just wanted you to be happy."

  Something in the middle of my chest felt like I was gazing at the world's cutest puppy, and I couldn't speak.

  "I missed you though," he said softly, but with such intensity I still heard him even though the shusher had returned and was busily silencing the people around her. His eyes locked to mine, and I forgot about everyone else as he murmured, "I couldn't believe how much I missed you."

  I remembered how I'd cried when we broke up, far more than I'd expected to, and how long it had taken before I'd felt like I could handle moving on. When I remembered too how I'd felt seeing him on the first day of the cruise, I wondered whether deep inside I'd ever moved on at all. I did love Owen, but there was a little room in my heart that had only ever been occupied by Nicholas. "Neither could I."

  His eyes widened. "Really?"

  I nodded.

  "I probably shouldn't say this," he said, so quietly he barely was saying it, "but I loved you back then. I didn't tell you, but I did love you."

  Every last molecule of air seemed to leave my lungs at once, and I had to gasp to replace it. "I..."

  He shook his head. "You don't have to say anything. It's okay. I just had to tell you."

  I ignored this, because it wasn't okay. I had to tell him too. I had to hang my head to do it because I couldn't look at him, but I managed to let the words come, in a whisper. "I did love you too. And I don't know why I broke us up like I did. I really don't. I'm so sorry."

  His hand closed over my wrist, somehow both less and more intimate than if he'd taken my hand. "Melissa?"

  I looked up at him, my heart full of the same emotion and regret I saw in his eyes, and waited until he said, "I forgive you."

  "Thank you," I mouthed, feeling closer to him than I ever had.

  His eyes searched my face, then he gave me a slow wink and murmured, "Shhh."

  I grinned, knowing he was intentionally breaking the mood and knowing we needed it broken. "Same to you."

  He shushed me yet again, then mouthed, "Reading time?"

  I nodded, and sat next to him for a good two hours savoring the sun and the fresh sea air and the lifting of a dark cloud on my soul that I hadn't even known I was carrying around.

  We had loved each other. Though it couldn't matter any more, it still felt so good.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "So what have you been up to today?"

  Wendy's tone was too casual, and I grinned at her. "Don't think you're going to trap me. I know Mark saw me having lunch with Nicholas." I hadn't noticed him, but Nicholas had waved to him as he left the dining area carrying a tray.

  She laughed. "I'd be useless as a spy. I didn't feel like eating in the restaurant and we left it too late to get room service so my lovely man went off to fetch us some food. I'm glad you had Nicholas to have lunch with. Where's Nicole?"

  "In the morning she had a massage, then she was getting her hair cut and colored, and from lunch time into the afternoon is a bridal shower for Brandy."

  "Brandy and Brian." Wendy gave a mock sigh. "I so wish my name matched better with Mark's, and yours with Owen's for that matter. We're obviously just deluding ourselves that our relationships will work out."

  "Denial ain't just a river in Egypt."

  She giggled. "Amen, sister. So were you with Nicholas all morning?"

  I nodded. "Lots of reading. It was great." Remembering everything that had passed between us, I couldn't hold back a smile.

  Wendy glanced at her watch. "We're going to be early for the wedding. Sit and have a drink with me for a few minutes? I haven't forgotten what happened on that last excursion and I can't interrogate you properly in a chapel."

  "Off to the chapel, then," I said brightly, but she rolled her eyes and nudged me to the little self-serve drinking area.

  Once we were settled with cups of lemonade she took a breath to speak, but I jumped in first. "Yes, he held my hand. It's no big deal. He just helped me up the hill and forgot to let go. And we were together for quite a while so that's not so weird."

  She blinked. "Well, thanks for that, but I was actually going to ask why you didn't let go."

  I felt my cheeks go hot. "Oh." I took a long sip of my drink.

  She waited, then rolled her eyes and said with deliberate slowness, "Melissa, why didn't you let go of Nicholas's hand?"

  I imitated her eye-rolling, but my amusement faded in an instant. I hadn't let go because I hadn't felt so good touching someone in a long time, and that wasn't right. I stared at my hand on the cup, remembering how it had felt in Nicholas's. Making love with Owen last night had been wonderful but even that hadn't had the simple pure perfection of Nicholas's hand on mine.

  "Hey," she said softly when I didn't respond. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

  I sighed and looked up at her. "We told each other we used to love each other."

  Her brow furrowed as she worked through this convoluted sentence, then it cleared and her eyes widened. "You did? You never said it back then, did you? When did you say it? Why?"

  "This morning, and no, we didn't say it when we were together. And I don't know why he did it. For me, it just felt like I had to tell him."

  "Who went first?"

  I thought back. "He did."

  She made the face Mark called her "thoughtful duck" look, her lips pushed forward and her head tipped to one side.

  "What does it mean?" I said eventually.

  She shrugged. "If you don't know, how could I? It's interesting, that's all. That you both wanted to tell, I mean. It's ancient history now, right?"

  "Of course."

  She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Finish some sentences for me. The first words that come to mind."

  "Yes, doctor."

  "Shut up and do it."

  "I can't both shut up and--"

  "My relationship with Nicholas is--"

  "Friends," I said, with a stab of something I couldn't let myself identify deep in my chest.

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. "When I hold Nicholas's hand, I feel--"

  "Happy."

  The slits sprang open. "When I hold Owen's hand, I feel--"

  "Comfortable," I said without thinking.

  We sat silent for a moment, no doubt both considering the difference between 'happy' and 'comfortable', before I said, "But I'm not just comfortable with Owen. Last night, in bed, was..."

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "I can't tell you the details, you'd be jealous."

  She grinned. "I'm pretty damn happy with Mark in bed, and everywhere else, so I doubt it, but I'm glad you think so. I want you to be happy too." She sobered. "Not just comfortable. And there's more to it than just sex.
Which of course you know."

  "I do know." I sighed. "It's just weird here on the ship, I guess. Owen's this big gambler all of a sudden, and so I've hardly seen him and I've spent most of my time with Nicholas. He was always a sweetheart and that hasn't changed, and..." I sighed again and admitted something I'd been trying not to acknowledge. "And I think if I were single I'd be falling for Nicholas again. But I'm not, and he's not either, so that's that."

  She took a breath to reply, and I glanced at the clock on the wall and said, "We have ten minutes to get to the wedding. We'd better move it."

  She tossed back the rest of her lemonade, and I did the same, then we headed off toward the chapel. In the elevator, she said, "If you'd fall for Nicholas..."

  I shook my head. "I said if I were single. I'm not. Owen's a great guy and we'll be married by this time next week and we'll be just fine. Once we're off the ship he'll go back to being his usual self and it'll be fine."

  "And you'll see Nicholas at Easter and Christmas. Just one big happy family."

  "Ecstatic, orgasmic," I said, trying to imitate Austin's tone from the first day on the ship.

  She burst out laughing. "I wouldn't go that far. But that would make for one hell of a Christmas dinner."

  *****

  When we slipped into the chapel five minutes before three, Rob and his four groomsmen stood at the front near Captain Edgar. Rob shifted from foot to foot and tugged at his tie, then caught my eye and gave me a small smile and a nod. I smiled back.

  Wendy leaned in. "Think he's got that list of reasons not to marry her stuffed in his suit?"

  I chuckled. "Wouldn't be surprised. And she's got an electric buzzer in her hand." I shook my head. "What else could they do to each other during the ceremony?"

  We spent the next few minutes brainstorming increasingly ridiculous possibilities and trying to imagine how the calm-looking Captain Edgar would react to them, then a uniformed man came in and whispered something to the captain. He smiled and said something to Rob, who immediately looked twice as nervous.

  "Show time," Wendy murmured.

  I nodded. "I hope it's right," I said, surprising myself. "They're so mean to each other."

  Wendy looked at me, eyebrows raised, but she couldn't speak because the first notes of Pachelbel's Canon were ringing out. Instead, she drew a small check mark in the air and grinned at me. Knowing she was saying she approved of their music choice since she'd already decided she wanted the same song for her processional, I grinned back.

  The bridesmaids paced in, one by one, each wearing the same long sleek dress but in a different jewel-tone. Sapphire blue, rich garnet red, emerald green, deepest amethyst purple, they made their way to the front and stood facing the back of the chapel.

  When the aisle was clear, we all stood, knowing who'd be arriving next. With everyone else, I stared at the open door of the chapel wanting to see Stephanie's dress.

  Nearly every woman in the place was in tears before she'd taken five steps along the rich burgundy-and-gold carpet, and not because her dress was gorgeous and fit her perfectly.

  No, it just seemed right to cry when the bride was crying.

  Tears were sliding freely down her face like she hadn't noticed they were there. She might not have, because her face was lit up with love and happiness and her eyes were focused straight ahead.

  I blinked my own eyes clear and turned back to the front of the chapel as she passed us, but I might as well not have wasted the energy on blinking because my eyes filled up again when I saw Rob. Rob, and the tears on his cheeks.

  He was smiling at her through them, smiling so widely it must have hurt, and the glow in his eyes was hard to look at, like looking directly at the sun. I'd never seen a man look so in love.

  When Stephanie and her smiling father reached the front, he hugged her then stepped back and let her stand next to Rob. She and Rob turned to each other, and leaned in to share a short but tender kiss before Captain Edgar began the ceremony. They held hands throughout, without a single electric buzzer in evidence, and Rob did nothing but give her a sweet smile when the captain asked if anyone knew of a reason the wedding shouldn't go ahead.

  I'd thought I did know of one, but now that I saw them here I realized how badly I'd misjudged their relationship. Of all things, I'd thought I had a stronger relationship than they did, but I couldn't imagine Owen crying as I walked down the aisle toward him.

  Or, for that matter, me crying either.

  We didn't have that kind of relationship.

  But as I watched Stephanie and Rob joined together in a marriage that I now felt sure would indeed last as long as they both lived, I knew I wanted to. I wanted that kind of love.

  *****

  After congratulating the happy couple, Wendy and I found chairs on the top deck overlooking the ocean and sat in silence. I didn't know about her, but I was still too emotional to have anything to say. I couldn't stop replaying the wedding in my mind, the love I'd seen between Stephanie and Rob so vibrant and real. I'd never felt that, hadn't even known it was possible.

  But I knew now.

  Wendy jumped and pulled her phone from her pocket. "I'm vibrating."

  I laughed. "Keep it to yourself."

  She grinned and checked the phone, then turned it toward me so I could read the email.

  Thanks for coming, girls! We leave the ship tomorrow at 10am. Rob and I would love to see you at the pier one more time if you're not busy! Stephanie

  Wendy returned the phone to her pocket. "Want to go?"

  I nodded.

  "Gorgeous wedding, eh?"

  I nodded again, and she directed another "thoughtful duck" look at me. When she didn't say anything to go along with it, I said, "What?"

  She shrugged. "You said something weird before the wedding."

  "Only one thing?"

  She chuckled. "One that matters." Her amusement faded. "You said you thought they were mean to each other. You didn't really mean that, did you? Mark and I tease each other like that, after all."

  I tipped my head from side to side. "Not exactly. Yeah, you tease, but... it's different with them. With you guys I can always tell you love each other too, but I didn't see that with them. I honestly thought..." I cut myself off and shrugged. "Never mind. I'm just glad they're happy."

  "Me too, but I want you happy too. What did you honestly think?"

  I began scraping at a chip in my thumb's nail polish. Did I want to tell her? It would sound so stupid. But I couldn't get my head around it, so I sighed and said, "I honestly thought my relationship was better than theirs."

  When she didn't answer, I looked up from my nail to see her studying me. "Didn't know it was a competition," she said at last.

  "Oh, you know what I mean."

  "I do, but I'm not sure you know what I mean. Relationships are all different, and I don't think judging yours against Stephanie's does any good. If it's working for you, that's what counts."

  I returned my attention to my thumb nail. "Yeah."

  "Look at me."

  When I did, my throat tightened at the worry and compassion on her face. "Melissa, is it working? You and Owen?"

  I took a long sip of my rum punch. "It was. Before we came here. It all fell into place, you know? We met, we were great together, he proposed, we'd get married here... bang bang bang, there it was. I mean, three months ago I was single. Not even three months. It's all happened so fast. But it seemed so right."

  I wasn't sure I was making sense, but she seemed to understand. "That must feel really weird, having everything change like that."

  I nodded.

  "Does it feel good too, though?"

  I wanted to go back to picking at my nail but I made myself look at her. "It did. Until we got here."

  "Until you saw Nicholas?" Her voice was so soft I could barely hear her.

  I nodded, but said, "It's more than that, but yeah, it's that too. Owen's gambling is messing with me, even though I know he won't do it when we
leave. I didn't know about it and I don't like it. And then I remember how it was being with Nicholas, and how good I feel with him now, and I see you and Stephanie and how you are with your guys and I wonder whether what I have is enough. But it's what I wanted, a nice smart good man to marry. He's good to me and we're good in bed and I do love him and I know he loves me. So it is enough, right?"

  The thoughtful duck made another appearance as Wendy studied me.

  "Isn't it? I can't expect more than that. I'm lucky to have that much. So many people don't."

  "You remember my friend Andrea?"

  I nodded and brushed my fingers over the shawl I wore that she'd made for me at Wendy's request.

  "Yeah. She and her boyfriend Loren have been together for about a year and a half now. They only see each other once a week because they like it that way."

  I nodded again. "You told me that before." I'd thought it was kind of strange but I hadn't said so since I didn't want to be rude.

  "Yeah, but I didn't tell you this." She paused, clearly looking for words. "Andrea's great all the time, happy and fun and really enjoying her life. But when she's with Loren..." She shook her head. "It's a whole other level. She just shines when she's with him. I don't even think she knows it, but she lights up. He does too. It's like they power each other up to a level they can't reach on their own."

  "Like at the wedding today," I said quietly, my throat so tight it hurt to speak. Hearing her describe that kind of bond made me want it even more.

  "Yeah." She swallowed hard. "I don't know if 'good enough' is enough, when you could have that. I've had 'good enough' before, and now I have Mark, and..."

  We looked into each other's eyes, then smiled when we saw we were both about to cry. She swiped at her eyes. "Where's the off-switch for these things? But seriously, Melissa, think about it. I know you want your marriage to last forever, just like I do. I love all the stuff we've said about still being friends and still being married to the same guys fifty years from now. Is Owen that guy? Is he that right for you?"