Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2)

by Howe, Violet

  I bit my lip and listened to my inner voice rant and rave about the importance of being honest and not leading him on. But my outer voice said, "I'm just tired. I don't know what my schedule looks like, and it's stressful to try and plan anything right now. Maybe another time?"

  What a bitch. The guy deserved better. Here he was, asking for honesty and being the charming prince as always, and I couldn't give it to him. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I wasn't ready to give up his phone calls, his laughter, and the way he made me feel.

  It's weighed on me all day today that I'm not being fair to Jack. I do care about him. But I'm not in love with him. Not the way I was with Cabe. I don't know if I ever could be.

  I'm not good for anyone right now, and I knew I owed it to Jack to 'fess up and set him free. It didn't mean it came easy, though.

  I called tonight as soon as I got home, and we chatted back and forth about our workdays for a bit. Anxiety and dread twisted me in knots, and I finally decided the waiting was worse than the actual act.

  "Jack, you're a great guy."

  "Oh no. This sounds like the part of the movie where she kicks the great guy to the curb. I always hate this part, and I usually fast forward through it to get to where she realizes she made a mistake and comes back to him. Can we just skip to that?"

  I smiled, and marveled again at the stupidity of my heart for not choosing to love this very special man.

  "I'm not being fair to you, Jack. You deserve better."

  "Isn't that up to me to decide? I can't think of anyone better for me, Tyler. You're amazing, and I feel like the luckiest man on earth for having the chance encounter we had in Paris. Like the universe was shining down on me that day. You can't tell me you didn't feel a connection."

  I leaned my head back and looked at the ceiling, cursing the universe for sending me the guy who thinks I hung the moon and having me be hung up on a different guy at the time. Funny. Very funny. In a not at all funny way.

  "Jack, I did. I felt a connection then, and I feel a connection now. I enjoy talking to you, laughing with you. I truly do. If we'd met another time, another place, a different phase in my life, I could easily see us together. See a future with you by my side. But I can't give you what you want right now. My heart still belongs to another, and it's not fair of me to keep taking from you without anything to give in return."

  "Look, we don't have to go to my parents. Forget I asked. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. I've just never felt this way about anyone before. I've always been wrapped up in my own needs and my own agenda, and I feel like all of the sudden the only thing I need is you. Nothing else matters."

  We sat in silence as he waited for me to respond and I cursed my inability to be what he needed. When I didn't speak, he continued.

  "I know I met you at a bad time. I know you and Cabe have a history, and there was a lot of ambiguity when I came along. But has anything come of it? Have you heard any more from him? I mean, are you really willing to keep sitting there waiting just in case he decides he wants you? I know I want you, Tyler. I have no doubts. I can't think about anything else. I know you feel something for me, too. Don't run from it."

  I wavered, second-guessing myself. I've had no word from Cabe. No response to my attempts to contact him. So if he came to my apartment that night to say he had feelings for me, where is he now?

  What would it hurt to keep talking to Jack? To keep enjoying his company? Why give him up when I may never hear from Cabe again?

  I knew the answer, though. I didn't like it, but I knew it. Whether Cabe ever comes back or not, it wasn't fair to Jack to use him for my own selfish purposes. He is too great a guy to be a consolation prize.

  So I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth together, steeling my resolve to put Jack's well-being ahead of my own need for security and companionship.

  "Jack, I don't feel the same way about you as you feel about me. I don't know if I ever will. I do care about you, but I need to figure out what's going on in my life. You gotta stop calling."

  He stayed quiet for a bit, and then he played the part of the prince right up until the end.

  "I'll honor your wishes, but it's not what I want. So if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Please know no matter what the outcome is, I just want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I'll always wish it was me."

  I hung up and realized I felt more relief than sadness. Which says a lot, I suppose.

  Now if only I could figure out how to untangle the rest of my twisted heartstrings and truly be free to move on.

  Monday, May 19th

  Saturday's wedding was a couple who dated in high school and then split up for forty years before reconnecting. They talked at the ceremony about true love never dying and how they never gave up on each other, even through each of their happy marriages to other people and raising children into adulthood. The flame never burned out, hidden away in a tiny little space in their hearts never to be forgotten. After each of their respective spouses passed away—both from lengthy battles with cancer—the two sought each other out. They'd been inseparable since then, and the wedding proved to be an emotional testament to the strength of their love and a true representation of a happy ending. They stood together with their grown children and grandchildren and prepared to live out their sunset together.

  As blissful as they seemed, and as wonderful as the event was to experience, I felt melancholy settle over me with the whole thing. They missed out on their entire lives together. The children they would have had. The places they would have gone. The adventures they would have encountered. Yes, they had happy marriages and experienced love with other people. They each had incredible kids who had given them much joy and would continue to do so through grandchildren.

  But I couldn't help but wonder if they mourn the loss of the lifetime together. Sure, they're closing out the final act on the same stage, but look at everything they missed. What if they hadn't split up? Would they have gone the distance and still be together all this time later? Do they ever wish it had turned out differently?

  I'm ready to move on. I firmly believe I will have plenty of celebrations in my life. Promotions. Friendships. Travel. Accomplishments. And yes, relationships. Love.

  This wedding touched me, though. It spoke to my heart about what can be lost along the way. I knew I didn't want to get to the end of my lifetime, however long that should be, and realize it was Cabe I missed all along.

  I decided I couldn't truly put Cabe behind me without giving him one more chance to respond. In the days right after that night at my place with him and Jack, I texted and called several times, but got nothing but radio silence. It's been two weeks, so I made a deal with myself this morning. I would try one more time, and then I'd be done. If I reached out again and he didn't answer, I'd have no choice but to accept he is part of my past and I'd be free to move forward without him. To find my own lifetime free and clear.

  My hands trembled a bit as I typed the message, and my thumbs hovered over the screen for several seconds before I finally got the nerve to hit send. I don't know if I was more nervous he would respond or he wouldn't.

  Okay, Dude. I'm gonna try to reach you one more time, but this time you don't even have to text me back. I'll be at the lake at 4pm today. If I don't see you there, I'll leave you alone and stop trying to reach you. Please come.

  I got there about a quarter til. So keyed up my hands were shaking, and I got the hiccups.

  I heard his car park a couple minutes after the hour. Heard him walking up behind me, but I couldn't trust my emotions to stay calm if I turned to face him. I was determined not to go all to pieces.

  "What's up, Buttercup?" He plopped down on the bench beside me, and I sneaked a sideways glance. He looked angry. Frustrated. Tired. The dark circles underneath his eyes only served to highlight the unbelievable clear depths of the blue irises. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him, but then I hiccuped again, and it rel
eased. I decided to dive right in, not sure how long I could keep it together.

  "You came to my house that night and told me you wanted me to know why your marriage ended."

  He sat forward with his arms on his knees, his hands clasped together so tight his knuckles were white.

  "It ended because there was a third person in the marriage from the beginning. I never wanted to acknowledge that, but I know now it's true."

  "You mean Kristin? Was Monica seeing her all along?"

  He laughed, but it came out ragged around the edges with no humor or joy.

  "No, Buttercup. Monica did all she could to save our relationship. Kristen was her last resort."

  I couldn't help but face him then, shocked to hear him say that. Monica had left him for Kristen, which broke his heart and devastated his life. How could he say now she had done all she could to save it?

  "So, how's Jack?" His voice held a steel edge to it, sharpened and ready to strike. He didn't look at me, but instead gazed across the lake at the houses on the other side. The houses we used in our imaginary scenarios when we came here before. Long before our own lives became more drama-filled than the ones we made up for them.

  "Good, I guess. Why do you ask?"

  He looked at me then, only briefly, but long enough for me to see hurt and anger flaring almost out of control.

  "Cabe, I'm not dating Jack."

  "Really? Because I saw some photos of you in Paris that definitely seem to convey otherwise, and if I'm not mistaken, he stayed at your apartment that Sunday night and didn't leave until morning."

  My mouth flew open in shock and indignation. "How do you know that? Were you watching us?"

  He stood up. "I wanted to know. I needed to know. You see, I wanted to believe you when you told me there was nothing between you in Paris. Once I calmed down, I thought about it and realized you may be telling the truth. But then when I saw him there that night, the truth seemed to be staring me in the face and shaking my hand. I had to know. So yeah. I came back and waited in the parking lot to see when he left. Now why would he spend the night if you're not dating? Or do you guys just have something casual going on?"

  "He missed his flight. He stayed with me so he didn't have to book another hotel room."

  Cabe crossed his arms and glared down at me. "So you guys had a hotel room for the weekend?"

  I stood then, crossing the space between us in two angry steps to stand toe to toe with him.

  "No. He had a room in Tampa for a conference he was attending. But you know what? I don't owe you any of these answers. I told you I chose you. That I loved you. You walked away. You don't get to play the jealous lover. What I do and who I see is my business. You chose not be involved."

  He looked down his nose at me, and I stood my ground just inches from him. I didn't see him move though, despite being so close. He reached out and wrapped me in his arms and crushed my lips beneath his before I even knew it was happening.

  At first, I felt outraged. How dare he be such an ass and then expect that he could just kiss me! But any anger I felt stood no chance against my traitorous body. My very soul cried out for him and my body molded against him like we'd originally been one piece split apart by fire.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me, my hands submerged within the long curls at the nape of his neck. He plundered and searched and I offered myself up to him, completely open and receiving what only he could give me.

  Jack may be sweet. He may be kind. Handsome and charming, too. But I don't think I could ever feel for him the passion I have for Cabe. The fire. The immediate combustion. Cabe ignites me in ways I never dreamed possible. Physically, emotionally, mentally.

  I clung to him and pulled him tighter, our mouths smashed together so hard that it hurt, but I was unwilling to let go. He clung just as hard if not harder. He settled both hands across my ass and pulled me up into him, and I immediately knew how very excited he was to see me. Or to hold me and assault me with kisses, more accurately.

  When he finally pulled back, he didn't release me. He just stood there and held me against him in a vice grip I had no desire to resist. He spoke in hushed, quiet whispers so close his lips almost moved against mine as he talked.

  "I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. You were behind the counter at the coffee shop, and you were laughing and throwing water at some guy who worked with you."

  "Rodney," I said, but then regretted speaking in case it made him stop talking. I so desperately wanted to hear what he had to say.

  "I always thought we'd end up together. I just had this faith that you were the one and it was meant to be. We clicked so well. I'd never felt about a woman the way I felt about you. Hell, I'd never been as close to anyone as I was to you. You were the best friend I ever had. I kept thinking you'd see me eventually. When you got over Dwayne. When you got more comfortable being away from your family. When you found a job you enjoyed. When you saw how great we were together. But you never did."

  He released me then and walked past me toward the lake. I felt cold air swirl around me, but the chill within me from his absence went deeper than any wind could cause. I started to interrupt him, to tell him I could finally see, but he wasn't finished.

  "When Monica came along, it felt great. She saw me. She picked me. She wanted me. It was intoxicating. She made me laugh. She paid attention to me. Made me feel good inside. Made me feel like a man."

  I nodded, even though he couldn't see me from where he stood. I understood all too well exactly how Monica made him feel. After all, wasn't that what Jack had provided me? Well, he didn't make me feel like a man, but he made me feel beautiful. Wanted. Adored.

  "When she left to move back to Seattle, I was confused. On the one hand, I had this wonderful girl. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. Successful. And she wanted to be with me. It should have been perfect. But she wasn't who I wanted. I wanted you."

  He turned to face me then, walking slowly back towards me but stopping just out of my reach. Purposefully, I'm sure.

  "I came to you that night after she left for Seattle to tell you the truth. To tell you I loved you and wanted to share the rest of my life with you. But before I could get the words out, you told me to follow Monica. You assumed I was talking about her when I tried to tell you I was in love. You told me to go after her. Pursue her. You said you thought that was where I needed to be."

  "But wait. I didn't—"

  "It's okay. I know you were only trying to help. I started off the conversation that night talking about loving someone and taking risks. Being vulnerable and willing to be hurt. You didn't realize I was talking about you."

  I shook my head as the tears fell on my cheeks.

  "So I moved to Seattle. I resolved to put you behind me and move on with my life. But it wasn't that easy. She had decided to move back there because she felt like I would never let you go. She thought it would be different when I came to Seattle, but you were too much a part of me. Your name came up in conversation, sometimes without me even noticing I'd brought you up. Five years of my life spent by your side, pretty much every day. So all my stories, all my memories of my adult life, were tangled up with you."

  He looked toward the lake, and I wiped at my tears with the back of my sleeve.

  "She gave me an ultimatum. To give you up and never mention you again or leave her and Seattle behind. You had made it clear there was nothing for me here. So I did what she asked. I severed all ties with you, even though it felt like cutting off a limb or tearing out a chunk of my heart. And you let me do it. Then she said if I truly loved her, I'd marry her to prove it. So I did. I married her. Pledged to love her the rest of my life and give her my name. I felt like I meant it when I said it, you know? Like I intended to follow through. I did mean to. I wanted to. I had the perfect girlfriend. The perfect wife. Why wouldn't I follow through?" He coughed and cleared away emotion from his throat.

  "But the heart wants what it wants. She says I was sullen. Depre
ssed. And I guess she I was. I don't know. I felt adrift. Lost. Like I didn't know how I'd gotten there and wasn't sure where to go. I loved her. I did. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't the kind of love to sustain you through better or worse. It didn't have the roots for that. It couldn't. Because I was in love with you."

  He kind of spit out the last part, and it occurred to me that loving me had mostly been a painful experience for Cabe. First dealing with my rejection, then with me sending him to Seattle oblivious to his feelings, and then being caught between Monica and a hard place. All the while without me returning the least bit of hope I would ever feel the same for him.

  My tears poured, and I lifted my hand to touch him. He moved away.

  "I used to call out your name in my sleep. Hell, for all I know I still do. It didn't happen all that often, maybe two or three times, but trust me when I say it wasn't a good thing to do with a wife lying in bed next to you. We were fighting a lot, both of us disillusioned and blaming each other for our misery. She started going out after work, to escape I suppose, but it left me lonely at home. Resentful. I'd been drinking one night, and I went to bed before she came home. She came in intoxicated and when she climbed in bed sans clothing, things got a little amorous. Something that hadn't been happening all that frequently. I was half asleep, still buzzing from going to bed drunk, and I guess at the worst possible time I called out your name. I don't even remember saying it. It wasn't a conscious thought. But that was it. She was done. Nothing I could do to make up for it. Nothing I could say."

  He cleared his throat again and reached to pick a blade of grass, shredding it as he talked. "She pretty much never came home after that. I'd go days at a time without even seeing her. When she did come home to grab clothes or take a shower, Kristen was always with her. The two of them would laugh and giggle. Talk some secret language I couldn't decipher. Total bullshit. So I finally asked her if she wanted to be married to Kristen or me, and you know the rest of the story."