Volition

by Lily Paradis

  Jasmine is watching me with intense satisfaction, and I consider shoving her over the balcony for a moment, the way I shoved them in that grave.

  Hayden, being the saint that he is, kisses Jasmine’s gloved hand, and reaches out to shake Jesse’s. I don’t know where his impeccable strength comes from, but I need some of it.

  I squeeze his hand, and I’m afraid I’m going to break it. Jasmine doesn’t come near me, and for good reason, but Jesse reaches out for my hand the way Hayden reached for Jasmine’s. It’s so natural that you’d think he grew up in society the way we did.

  His lips touch the black glove on my hand, and I want to die.

  I’ve chosen Hayden.

  I want Hayden.

  Jesse needs to vacate this floor, this building, this city because the choice has been made. I don’t know if I can live with him near me, not when he’s successful and striking and embedded in my very existence. I want to start crying like Daisy cried over Gatsby’s shirts, when really she wasn’t crying over shirts at all.

  None of us have really said a word, but I have no idea how much time has passed.

  Time doesn’t make sense anymore.

  Nothing makes sense anymore.

  Hayden clears his throat like he’s about to say something, but I’m slapped hard on the back.

  “Tate McKenna! I thought I saw a ghost!”

  Chad interrupts this matrix of a moment, and he has no idea what he’s walked into. He’s clearly had more than a few champagne flutes if he’s this hands-on with me and if he had the gumption to make fun of my shifty behavior, but I thank him for inviting me all the same. After all, he is the man who signs my paychecks and prints the words that come from my mind.

  Jasmine knows Chad, of course, because of her father, but she introduces Jesse, and I introduce Hayden.

  Chad is starstruck to see my fiancé, and I try to use their conversation as a moment to compose myself. I take a few deep breaths to try to quell the war in my mind, but it’s not working because Jesse’s staring at me with the lazy look he used to have all those years ago.

  It’s a look that’s meant just for me, and I shut my eyes to shut him out.

  When I open them, I want him to be gone, but that’s too much to ask. Jasmine sees our exchange and takes his hand.

  Chad and Hayden have come to a lull, so Jasmine uses it to excuse herself and Jesse. Chad says he should leave, too, and that’s good because I just need Hayden. I need him to pull all of the Jesse out of my mind because I’m getting married, and I can’t deal with the sight or the feel of him.

  Not when I always thought I’d be marrying him.

  I won’t let him ruin this for me.

  Jesse shakes Hayden’s hand again and nods at me while Jasmine shoots daggers at me with her eyes. They leave, and both Hayden and I watch as they descend down the staircase. Jesse looks back at me not once, but twice, and Jasmine is clearly shaken.

  “Well,” Hayden says, “I think I’m done here.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  He calls Al to pick us up, and we’re dashing down the steps, hand in hand, as fast as we can. I’m tripping over my dress, so Hayden picks the train up with his other hand and bunches it up, so I can run faster.

  Al spots us and gets out of the car to hold the door open for me. Hayden gets in on the other side, and I see the scar on Al’s neck again.

  “Al,” I ask because I’ve always wondered, “where is your family?”

  He gives me a sad smile and gestures into the car.

  “It’s right here, Tate.”

  My heart wants to break for him as Hayden pulls on my hand to get me into the car with him. I think he wants to be as close as he can after Jesse’s invasion.

  I’m in, the door shuts, and I want to cry.

  Hayden’s not the only person who bears physical scars from the night John died. They say scars don’t hurt, but that’s a lie. I’m not sure what hurts worse—the ones you can see or the ones so far beneath that they’ll never really heal.

  Now

  CATHERINE IS DRAGGING me back to Austin’s atelier to see my dress. I’m getting married tomorrow, and this is the only fitting we’ll have. I’ve been assured that Austin has cleared his entire schedule in the event that it doesn’t fit, so he can work day and night to have it ready for tomorrow, but he’s convinced I will love it.

  “The American Duchess!”

  I’m barely in the door before he’s kissing both of my cheeks.

  “You look fabulous! This hair,” he says, twirling it around these fingers. “If only I could have this hair. So fierce.”

  I thank him, and he hugs Catherine, but really, I’m just nervous to see my dress. I wasn’t partial to any of the samples, and if I don’t like what he’s designed for me, I don’t think I get a second chance.

  “Off,” Austin says as he pulls at my shirt and drags me to the fitting room.

  My clothes are coming off because Austin’s attendants have no shame, and I’m standing there in my bra and underwear while Austin pulls my dress from a garment bag.

  When he pulls it out, I see a flash of black underneath the white.

  “It looks better on,” he says.

  I wonder if he’s tried it himself.

  When he unzips the back, I see that he’s lined the entire inside of the dress with black fabric. The inside is black, but the outside is white. It’s cleverly done, so you can’t see the black inside once it’s on me, and I’m in love. This dress is me because I’m dark on the inside, yet I have to pretend to be normal on the outside. This wedding is the definition of a sham because I have to do the Rockefeller family justice even though I’m crazy inside.

  Austin zips it up, and it fits me perfectly. It’s strapless and tight until just above my knees where it flares out.

  “Wait for it,” Austin says as he grabs a bouquet off the wall and puts it in my hands. Then, he pulls a hairpin out from under his sleeve and gathers my waist-length locks in his hands until it’s in a chignon at the back of my head. He pulls pieces from the top layers out, so they’re framing my face.

  “Veil or no veil?”

  “No veil,” I say. “I don’t want to be wrapped up like a present.”

  “With that hair, I agree. No veil.”

  I look to Catherine, who is sitting on a futon with her hands over her face. She’s crying.

  “Oh, don’t,” I say because my best friend never cries.

  “You’re just so beautiful,” she says.

  She starts sobbing.

  I want to cry with her, but I can’t. If I start, I won’t stop.

  She hugs me tightly, and I stare at us in the mirror. I always thought she’d be getting married before me or that she’d be the only one of us getting married at all.

  Austin puts his arms around both of us and hands Catherine an embroidered handkerchief.

  Catherine sighs and wipes her face. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s go get you married.”

  Next, I’m meeting Hayden to get our marriage license.

  Catherine puts me in a cab, still teary-eyed, and I’m one step closer to putting the second ring around my finger. I asked for a simple band because I want my onyx engagement ring to be the focal point, and my ruined finger can’t take much more weight.

  The town hall isn’t far, so I pay my fare and hop out of the cab in time to see Al pulling up to the curb a few spots away.

  Hayden buttons his suit as he exits the car and nods to Al, and then he’s walking to me.

  He’s beaming because he’s so excited, and I want to be on that same plane, but I’m so nervous that I feel like my stomach is going to come out of my mouth.

  He kisses me and takes my hand.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready,” I tell him because if I’m not now, I’ll never be.

  We’ve already made an appointment, so we’re rushed into a room with a judge without having to wait in line.

  “Rockefeller and McKenna?”

&nbs
p; The judge looks at us to make sure he has the right couple even though I’m sure he knows Hayden’s face because there’s hardly anyone who doesn’t.

  We confirm our identities, and he hands the license over the desk.

  “Now, have you brought the rings?”

  I gape at Hayden because we’re not getting married now. We’re getting married tomorrow.

  He turns to me, and I can tell by his face that I’m wrong.

  He takes both of my hands in his.

  “Tate, if I die before tomorrow, I want to be married to you.”

  “Hayden, you’re not your brother. You’re a Rockefeller, not a Kennedy.”

  “You don’t know that,” he says darkly.

  I know he wants to do this now.

  “Don’t you want to be married to me if I die?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, let’s do it now. It’s less than twenty-four hours until tomorrow anyway. I don’t want to spend another second not being married to you.”

  He kisses me and quotes his favorite song, including one line about rain. He knows how I feel about it because he’s taught me to love the rain instead of being crippled by it. I can’t help but smile.

  It’s hard to say no to Hayden Rockefeller when he’s pleading, so I turn to face the judge.

  Now

  IT’S RAINING. NO, it’s not just rain. It’s a deluge. It’s Tate’s wedding day, and I can’t see how she’ll be happy about that.

  I wasn’t sent an invitation, but like everyone in the state of New York, I know every detail about her wedding. I’m sure it’ll cover the entirety of page six and maybe even page seven in the morning.

  I didn’t come here to ruin this for her. I didn’t intend to at least. But when I saw her at the Met gala, I didn’t have a choice. I love her. I’ve loved her since I was in first grade. I won’t let anyone else have her because she’s always been mine, and I was stupid enough to give her up when I thought she’d never have me. I know I’m showing my cards too late, but I hope she’ll take my hand anyway.

  St. Patrick’s Cathedral is crawling with paparazzi, and I’m happy it’s raining because it gives me cover to get in the side door without many people taking notice. I have no idea where Tate is, but I’m going to find her. As I walk inside, I understand how kids with guns feel when they walk into a high school ready to massacre their classmates. I’m completely unwanted because I’m the person that’s going to ruin everything today. They just don’t know it yet.

  I look around the cathedral before I realize Tate’s probably not here. There aren’t any rooms here for her to get ready in, so she’s probably still at the Palace across the street. Her douche fiancé is here though, greeting guests.

  I spot Tate’s grandmother and sister taking their seats, and I know I have to hurry. Lara’s money paid for all of my education, and I don’t want her to see me around Tate until I’ve spoken to her since she quite literally paid me to stay away from her granddaughter for half of our lives. I hate myself for taking it, but I needed it to launch myself out of the life I would have led otherwise.

  My family had nothing. I had nothing before she offered me the world if I could only stay away from Tate. I couldn’t bring myself to avoid her completely, but I didn’t want to. I knew Lara would never check up on me, so long as she knew I wasn’t with Tate. She had already dealt with one poor boy marrying her daughter. She didn’t want me in the way like Denny was, but Tate’s engaged to Hayden Rockefeller now, so I’d say I earned every penny.

  I burst through the doors and back out onto the crowded slick street, and I’m nearly hit by three different cars since I didn’t wait for the light to change. I slam my hands down on the hood of one of the taxis before I cross, and I am sheltered from the rain by the brown building that’s concealing Tate.

  Now, I have to find her.

  “Excuse me,” I say to the woman at the front desk. She looks gullible to me. “My best friend is getting married today, and I’m late. I can’t remember which room she’s in.”

  “Name?”

  “Tate McKenna.”

  “No.” She looks at me like I’m completely dense. “Your name, sir.”

  “Colin Conrad,” I lie.

  “She’s in two-forty-six.”

  “Thank you,” I say, swiping one of the mints out of a jar on the counter.

  I shove it in my mouth, and I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I find the room, and then before I know it, I’m pounding on the door with all I have.

  I can’t let her marry this asshole. It has to be me.

  Catherine answers the door and falls to the floor, so I step over her to walk in. I don’t make it two steps before Colin has me up against a wall by the neck.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  He looks murderous, and unlike when people say that for added drama, I really do believe that Colin would kill me if it came down to it. He should. I’m going to die today if Tate walks down the aisle after all.

  “Let me talk to her,” I say. My voice is strained because of the pressure.

  Colin is huge, and I don’t really want to mess with him more than I have to.

  “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t strangle you right now and solve all of her problems.”

  “She won’t marry him unless she sees me. You know that. She’s going to freak out before you can even get her to that church—guaranteed.”

  Colin narrows his eyes at me, and he doesn’t like the fact that I’m right.

  “I’m going to give you two minutes. If you’re not out of that room by then, your heart is going to stop beating. That’s a promise.”

  He releases me, and I can breathe again. I adjust my shirt, and Colin points to another door. I knock loudly, and Tate tells me I can come in, only she doesn’t know it’s me.

  I walk in, and Haley and Malin see me first.

  “Tate,” Haley breathes a warning because she knows all about me.

  I know about them because of the Internet, but I’ve never met either in person.

  Tate looks at me with more complacency than surprise, and she nods for Malin and Haley to get out. She’s fixing her hair, and she’s already wearing her dress.

  Crazy, sexy, beautiful.

  If I had to describe Tate McKenna in three words, that would do it—in that order.

  She turns away from the mirror and faces me, like she’s waiting to hear what I have to say. I want to rip the black ring off her finger and throw it into Mount Doom.

  “You left pieces of your soul inside me,” I tell her.

  “You left the whole thing inside me.”

  She catches me off guard, and I’m not sure what to say. I’ve never been sure what to say around her because we’re too much alike. She understands me too well.

  “You’re getting married.”

  “I’m getting married.”

  “Marry me instead.”

  Her eyes start to water, and I know I’ve struck something inside her.

  “Stop pulling my puppet strings, Jesse. I’ve made a choice.”

  “So, make a different one,” I plead with her.

  “I can’t. It’s done. I love him.”

  “You love me, too.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  I don’t want to hear that I’m not enough for her, but I don’t think I’m going to change her. I expected to come here and take her away, but she’s different than she used to be. She was always stubborn, but she’s immovable now. She’s her own person, and that’s not what I expected from her relationship with him.

  “I love you so much, Tate.”

  I’ve never told anyone that before, but if I’m going to say it to anyone, I might as well say it to her.

  “I’ve loved you since I was in first grade,” I tell her.

  She starts to cry, and I can’t stand it.

  I know I’m not getting anywhere with this.

  It breaks my heart to relent, but fighting is futile. I can see it
in her eyes. She’s wholly his like she’ll never be mine.

  “Okay,” I say as I step forward to kiss her forehead. “Go. Marry him. Be happy. Live like we would have in another life.”

  They’re the hardest words I’ll ever have to say in my life, but she needs them right now. Then, she looks up at me and surprises me even more.

  “Walk me down the aisle?”

  It hits me like I’ve been punched in the gut.

  “I can’t do that, Tate. The only way I could ever do that is if it was after we said, ‘I do,’ and you know it.”

  “I can’t do this without you.”

  “Then, don’t do it.”

  “I have to,” she says. She’s sniffling now.

  “Why?”

  I wipe one of her tears with my too-big-for-her-face thumbs. I’m clumsy, and she’s the definition of grace.

  “He’s the only thing that’s ever going to free me from you.”

  She wants this from me, and I don’t think I have the heart to say no.

  “This is going to hurt me.”

  “I know.”

  “It’s going to hurt you, too.”

  “I know.”

  I put my hand through my hair and then take a step back because she’s intoxicating.

  “How did we get here? Were we doomed from the start?”

  “I don’t know, but it is what it is.”

  “I wish we could go back,” I tell her.

  “I do, too.”

  “We’ve come too far to go back now, haven’t we?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did it happen?”

  “What?” She looks at me like she doesn’t understand what I’m asking her.

  “The moment that split us apart. What was it?” I want to know, so in my next life, I won’t ruin this with her again.

  “There wasn’t one moment,” she says. She’s seeing down into my soul. “It was all of them. Maybe it was meant to be this way.”

  “So, we didn’t choose it?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “We made our decisions, and so did fate.”