Three Stupid Weddings

by Ann Gallagher

  But at least that conversation would be with Dom and not Max.

  I released a long breath.

  Why had I stayed with Max as long as I had?

  Eh, wasn’t something I could change now. Max was in the past, Dom was in the present, and everything was as it should have been.

  Our motel was the closest we could find to the farm where the wedding had been held, which meant it was way off the beaten path. The GPS guided us down winding roads that cut through pasturelands and tiny no-name towns, and once we’d made it back to I-90, I shut off the navigation. All I had to do now was stay on I-90 until we were back in Seattle.

  As I merged onto the freeway, I said, “So, you really had a good time at the wedding?”

  “Are you kidding? I had a blast.” He chuckled. “I think half your family added me on Facebook.”

  “Oh Lord. There goes the neighborhood.”

  “Right?” He paused. “They, um, aren’t going to ask about our relationship status on Facebook, are they?”

  I tensed. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. Um…”

  “Eh, not everyone changes their status. If anyone asks, we can just say we’re lazy.”

  “They’d probably buy that. It took me like two years to change my job after I switched salons, so it’s not like they’d be surprised.”

  Dom laughed. “Oh yeah, I remember that. ‘Victor Nelson started working at Salon Lionne.’ Uh, yeah, Facebook. That happened ages ago.”

  “Exactly. So, don’t worry about it.”

  “Though… If we do change our statuses, and then we change them back later, you’re going to get bombarded like you did after you and Max split up.”

  “Fuck, I forgot about that.” I groaned theatrically. “Thank you, Facebook, for making breakups eleventy billion times worse.”

  “Right?” He paused. Then he twisted a little in his seat so he was facing me. “And, um, speaking of… I’ve been meaning to ask for a while, but how are you doing, post-Max?”

  I thought about it for a moment, my gaze as fixed on the road as his seemed to be on me. “Not too bad, now that you mention it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it was rough when he left, but then it was like, holy shit, I don’t have to walk on eggshells anymore.”

  Dom made a low growling sound, and swore. “I still can’t believe he treated you that way. What the hell was his damage?”

  “I think he just liked having someone below him. The more he made me feel like shit, the more he thought he was hot shit.”

  “More like a piece of shit,” Dom muttered.

  I glanced at him, pulse speeding up. It was no shock that Dom despised Max, but it still caught me off guard sometimes when he actually said it out loud. The protectiveness in his voice, not to mention the hatred for Max, did funny things to my head. Why weren’t men I dated that quick to defend me?

  It was good to know someone had my back, though. Dom had always been safe. He didn’t let people treat me like crap, and he’d never given me crap when I’d confided in things I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone else.

  Which, now that I thought about it, there was something I’d been keeping to myself, and there wasn’t anyone else on the planet I could imagine telling.

  “You want to hear something really messed up?” I asked.

  “Go for it.”

  I focused on the road, and my cheeks burned as I took a deep breath. “A few days after Max left, I absolutely stuffed my face with fast food. Like…so much food. Like, greasy fried garbage, and way more than I would ever eat at one time under normal circumstances.”

  “You did?” There wasn’t a single hint of disgust or judgment in his voice. Maybe a little surprise, but otherwise he just sounded concerned.

  “Yeah.” Shit, the relief was already kicking in from finally telling someone—telling him—about this. “Seriously I would never eat that much on a normal day. And I felt awful afterward too, but also kind of…” I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s so ridiculous, but I was sitting there feeling like my stomach was going to explode, and all I could think was ‘yeah, take that, Max.’ God, it was so stupid.”

  “I can see why you did it, though,” Dom said softly.

  “Really?”

  “Well yeah. With the way he was such a dick to you about your body and anything you ate—hell, if you’d told me you wanted to do that, I probably would have gone out and gotten a bucket of KFC for you too.”

  I glanced at him, eyes wide. “So you think it’s healthy?”

  “Fuck no! I mean, physically it obviously wasn’t. And I’d be worried if you did it more than once. But that’s like when Colin and I broke up. He hated Thai food, and he’d act so grossed out if I mentioned I’d eaten it even if he wasn’t there. So after he left, I ordered like eighty bucks worth of Thai takeout, and probably ate a lot more of it in one sitting than I should have. To the point I almost made myself sick.” He shrugged. “Was it the healthiest thing in the world? Probably not. But in the moment, it felt good. It was never something I was going to make a habit of, just a one-time thing to take back part of my pre-Colin life.”

  I chewed on what he’d said, and finally managed a slow nod. “I guess so. I’ve, um, never told anyone about that. I was so mortified and felt so gross afterward.”

  “I won’t tell anyone.” He paused. “It was just a one-time thing, though, right?”

  “Of course. Yeah.” I looked at him again. “You really think I’d do something like that all the—”

  “No! No. Of course not. But I mean, he put you through the wringer about your weight. And I know it still bothers you. I just… You know, there’s symbolically sticking it your ex, and there’s binging because he’s abused you into an eating disorder.”

  My fingers tightened on the wheel, and I couldn’t make myself face him. I hadn’t thought about it, but now that he mentioned it…huh. “Wow. I never thought about it as an eating disorder. Not the one-time face-stuffing, but everything after.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I fidgeted, drumming my nails on the wheel. “Like when I try on clothes or see myself in a mirror. It’s hard not to hear all the shit he used to say.” I sighed, pressing back into the seat. “And then when I start even thinking about it—my body or what he used to say about it—I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach, and…” I shook my head.

  Dom was quiet for a moment before he gently said, “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see someone about it.”

  “Like a therapist?”

  “Yeah. Just to make sure Max didn’t short-circuit something, you know? Make sure you’re really okay?”

  I stared at the road ahead of us for a long moment. From anyone else, I might have taken the suggestion as a subtle “go talk to someone else so you quit bumming me out with it.” I couldn’t convince myself that was what Dom was doing, though.

  “Maybe that’s not a bad idea,” I said quietly. “I mean, he did fuck with my mind a lot. Seeing a professional might be…” I wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.

  Dom touched my knee. “It couldn’t hurt. And I’ve got a coworker who has a therapist to help with her eating disorder, and she raves about her. If you want, I could get the doc’s number for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course. I’ll talk to her at work tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. I’ll look around when I get home too.” I glanced at him and managed to smile. “Thanks. For actually being concerned.”

  His fingers twitched on my knee. “Concerned? You’re my best friend. Of course I’m concerned. Especially after that asshole worked you over like that.”

  “I know. But I really appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He gave my knee a little squeeze, then withdrew his hand. The sudden break in contact startled me, and so did the cool spot that lingered where his hand had been resting for so long.

  And as I kept driving, and our conversation wound to lighter to
pics, I wished he’d put it back.

  Chapter 12

  Dom

  We had one more wedding to go to together, and though I kind of hated myself for it, I was dreading the whole thing. The thought of wearing a tux to an outdoor wedding in Eastern goddamned Washington in the fucking summer wasn’t exactly tipping things in favor of going. Neither was the fact that the invite kind of made it sound like this would be one of those bridezilla fiascos that wasn’t fun for anyone, but it wasn’t the heat or the rules making me balk.

  The last two weddings had been fun aside from that one disastrous cake. Vic and I could travel together without annoying each other. Which, I mean, we’d known that going into this—I’d lost count of the road trips we’d taken for ComicCon, movie premieres, conventions, and the odd concert.

  But those had been different. We hadn’t been pretending we were a couple. Driving together, rooming together, hanging out together—as friends. Even when we’d had to share a bed from time to time, we’d been friends and that was that. Okay, so we’d both had a boyfriend or two who’d pitched fits and gotten all insecure over us going somewhere overnight with another person, but that hadn’t even made sense because what did they think we were going to do? Fuck? Sharing a bed at one of the ComicCon San Diego overflow hotels wasn’t going to suddenly make us dump our boyfriends and elope.

  All of that was why I hadn’t thought twice about going to the weddings with Vic. It wasn’t that much of a stretch from things we’d done a million times before…except for that minor detail about pretending we were doing the thing I’d been wishing we could do.

  Now, while I waited for Vic to pick me up so we could head back to Eastern Washington, I was having second thoughts. Did I really want to do this? And could I get out of it without hurting anyone’s feelings? I mean, Vic could always tell people I was sick or something. Say I bailed on the wedding because I didn’t want to give anyone else this horrible summer flu. Two birds, one stone—I wouldn’t have to go to the wedding, and Vic would still have me as a buffer to avoid his family’s matchmaking attempts. Everybody won.

  So why couldn’t I do it? Hell, Vic didn’t even need to know I was playing hooky. I could text him and tell him I was coming down with something. A little white lie, my best friend’s feelings spared, no wedding, no matchmaking. Perfect.

  But the I have to bow out this weekend text was still unsent on my screen. My bag was still packed. Vic would still be on his way as soon as he was off work. Unless and until I hit Send, everything would still move forward the way we’d planned.

  And I just couldn’t do it.

  With a heavy sigh, I deleted the text, pulled up our friend Haley’s contact info, and sent her a message instead.

  Can I pick your brain? 911.

  Not three seconds after I sent it, she called.

  “Hey,” she said. “I know you hate talking on the phone, but you said 911, so I figured it’s urgent.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Remember the weddings I was going to with Vic this summer?”

  “Oh right. The ones you’re going to so he doesn’t get bombarded with suitors?”

  “Yep. Exactly.”

  “Okay? So what’s going on?”

  “I…” I dropped my hand into my lap and sighed heavily. “We’re leaving for the third one in like an hour. I’m just waiting for Vic to get off work, and then he’s going to pick me up. And I… Man, I don’t think I want to go.”

  “Why not?”

  I gnawed my lip, not quite sure how to answer.

  Haley’s voice was soft as she said, “You know, you could just tell him how you feel.”

  I blinked. “Come again?”

  The laugh that came down the line might as well have been a gentle pat on my shoulder. “Honey. Seriously.”

  “What?”

  “Do you really think we’re that oblivious? Casey and I have pretty much been waiting for you to just tell him already.”

  “Tell… Wait, huh?” I stared at the wall, my brain short-circuiting over her comments. “You knew?”

  “Of course we did!” She laughed, though it wasn’t a mean sound. She seemed as surprised by my reaction as I was by what she’d said. “Dom, for God’s sake, the second someone mentions that man’s name, your eyes light up. Or… well…”

  “Hmm?”

  Haley took a deep breath. “Before he met Max, your eyes lit up every time you saw Vic. And ever since he and Max split, you’ve been the same way. It was just… It was different when they were together, you know?”

  I swallowed. “I was worried sick about him then.”

  “I know you were. We all were. And everyone was relieved when Max was finally gone, but especially you. It always seemed like whenever Max hurt Vic, he was hurting you just as much. Once Max was out of the picture and Vic wasn’t being hurt all the time, you were still concerned about him, but you also went right back to having hearts for eyes every time he walks into a room.”

  My mouth had gone dry. She was right, of course—I just hadn’t realized how much she or anyone else had noticed. Had Vic noticed?

  “You still there?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Wow. I didn’t know anyone knew. And… I mean, should I tell him how I feel?”

  “He’s single. You’re single. Why not?”

  “Because if he doesn’t feel the same way, it might make things weird, you know?”

  Haley tsked. “Come on. You two have been friends for years. Even if it did make things weird for a little while, you guys have enough history, you could totally come back from it. Vic’s a reasonable dude. There’s no reason you being in love with him should be a deal-breaker.”

  “Okay, you have a point.” I chewed my thumbnail and stared at the wall some more. “Maybe I should wait until after this weekend, though. Just in case things do get awkward for a little while.”

  “Yeah, I guess it would be extra awkward to have that happen at a wedding. Or right before one.”

  “Exactly.” I absently stroked my beard. “Except now I’m going to be thinking about it all weekend.”

  “Are you ever not thinking about how much you want to tell him you love him?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “When there isn’t a Star Wars movie playing?”

  “Um…”

  “That’s what I thought.” She paused. “Can I be totally honest about something?”

  “Please do.”

  She took a breath. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Vic can be kind of, I guess, oblivious about things, and he probably doesn’t have a clue you feel anything for him. He might not even realize he feels anything about you. But I will be shocked if that man doesn’t think you hung the moon.”

  My heart fluttered. “Really?”

  “Really. Because you don’t see how he looks at you when you aren’t looking.”

  It took way too much effort to whisper, “How does he look at me?”

  “Pretty much like you’re his favorite person on the entire planet.”

  The words stunned me into silence.

  “I’m serious,” she went on. “It’s like…” She was quiet for a moment, as if she were struggling to come up with the words. “You know how when people go to the beach, and it’s cloudy, and you’re kind of like, damn, I wish it was sunny?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And how you can still be happy and have a good time when it’s cloudy, but it would be a hundred times better if the sun came out?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Sweetie,” Haley said with a smile in her voice, “you’re the sun coming out on Vic’s cloudy day at the beach.”

  I was startled by the sting of tears in my eyes, and almost choked as I murmured, “Whoa.”

  “So, go to the wedding. Have a good time. And when you get home? Tell him. You’ll probably wonder why the hell you waited so long.”

  I laughed, feeling a rush of preemptive r
elief. I was still scared to tell him, but if Haley and Casey had seen something between us that even I hadn’t noticed… well, maybe I wasn’t taking such a huge risk after all.

  “Okay,” I said. “Maybe I’ll talk to him on the drive home. Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Any time. Have a safe trip, all right?”

  “Well, Vic’s driving, so…”

  “Oh. Yeah. Buckle up.”

  I laughed, and a moment later, we ended the call. I set my phone down, rolled some tension out of my shoulders, and released a long breath. I was still nervous as hell about telling Vic what I’d been feeling all this time, and I was scared to death he’d reject me, but I felt better about it now. Like even if the conversation didn’t end with us deciding to date, I wasn’t so convinced it would end with Vic being unable to look me in the eye. The worst case scenario was probably a little awkwardness for a few days, and then we’d be fine. And hey, maybe something would actually come of it. Maybe we’d—

  My phone buzzed.

  Just wrapped up. Be there soon. Sorry I’m running late!

  I gulped. Okay. I was still going to the wedding. I could still do this.

  And on the way home on Sunday…

  Please, God, don’t let me chicken out.

  Chapter 13

  Vic

  “Jesus Christ, I am so sorry,” I said as Dom got into the car. “My last client decided she wanted to be a redhead for a few weeks instead of going dark brown like she usually does, so I had to bleach her damn hair first, and…” I waved a hand. “Anyway. It took way longer than I expected.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Dom smiled as he buckled his seatbelt. “Just let me know if you’re tired and I’ll take over driving.”

  “I’m good for now.” I pulled out of his apartment’s parking lot and headed for the freeway.

  A few blocks shy of the on ramp, Dom asked, “Do you want to stop and get something to eat?”

  My stomach clenched like it always seemed to do when someone mentioned food these days. “Do you?”

  “You’re the one who just got off work.”