Pretend We're Over

by Ella Miles

  Brittany, the wedding coordinator, pokes her head in the door. “It’s time! If I could have you all line up, we will get you walking down the aisle.”

  We line up in order. I’m the last, just before Boden, as I’m his best man.

  “Who am I walking with?” I ask Boden. I flew in late last night and didn’t make the rehearsal, so I never found out.

  “Millie. She’s Oaklee’s maid of honor,” Boden answers.

  Fuck me. Now I really wish I had found her and talked to her before the wedding.

  One by one, each of us are led out of the small room and into the hallway where we meet up with the bridesmaid we are to walk down the aisle. In everyone’s case but me, their bridesmaid is also their significant other.

  My heart thumps, trying to come up with a way to fix this. The church is small and quaint. It’s pretty enough, but I don’t know why we had to fly to Vegas when they were just going to get married in a church just like they could back in Santa Barbara.

  The door opens again, and I walk out into the hallway where Millie is already waiting at the double doors that lead into the chapel.

  I hold out my arm, and she reluctantly puts her arm through.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, leaning over to Millie.

  “Shh,” Brittany gives me a look, and then the doors are opened. A crowd of a hundred and fifty stares at us.

  I put on my best fake smile, and Millie does the same next to me. She’s wearing the same lavender dress that all the other bridesmaids are wearing, except Millies has an extra sash that’s darker to mark that she’s the maid of honor. It matches my boutonniere.

  We start walking forward, away from Brittany, who can no longer call us out for talking while we walk.

  “I’m sorry,” I try again.

  “Now’s not the time,” Millie says through a clenched smile. I notice that her hand is barely touching my arm, trying to pretend I don’t exist at all.

  “Please, we need to talk. I’m so sorry.”

  “Little late for that.”

  “I’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink and apologize for real.” We are close to the end of the short aisle. We are about to run out of time together, and I can’t have her glaring at me the entire ceremony.

  “I don’t need a pity date right now.”

  “It’s not a pity date. It’s—“

  And then it’s too late. She’s walking away from me toward her spot near the altar, and I’m left standing in front of my brother.

  “Why is Millie glaring at you like that?” Kade asks.

  I glance over, and I feel the full fury of her. Fortunately, it gives me an excuse to really take her in, instead of trying to come up with words to apologize. Her strawberry blonde hair is curled and pulled back on one side with a sparkly clip. Her face is painted, but it’s tame compared to what it was last night with the red lipstick. The dress falls straight on the women behind her, but hers curves in at her waist before swelling out over her ass. Did she walk in heels? I glance down at her feet and smile. She’s wearing white Adidas tennis shoes.

  Millie notices that I’m smiling at her, which only deepens her glare. I fucked up, but making it up to her is going to be fun.

  “No reason,” I answer Kade, feeling happier than I have in a long time. I just found someone who is going to make this weekend bearable. Tomorrow I can go back to my normal life.

  The music changes, and we all turn as Boden leads Oaklee down the aisle. Oaklee’s parents died a few years ago. She doesn’t have a brother, so Boden decided to walk her down the aisle himself. Just another thing that feels off about this wedding.

  I turn my sights back on Millie when the happy couple reaches us. She’s no longer looking at me. In fact, she seems to be trying to look anywhere but me.

  I smile wider. Why didn’t I notice it before? I know Millie and I had a rough start, and we don’t belong together, but that won’t stop us from enjoying tonight. I let my tongue run around my mouth like a warm-up for what I plan on doing to her body later.

  “Do you take this man to be your husband?” The minster has been talking for a while, but I haven’t been paying attention. I’ve been too busy undressing Millie in my head and imagining all the sounds she’s going to make tonight when I get her back to my hotel room.

  “Ah,” Oaklee grabs her stomach.

  That breaks me from my daydreams as I stare at her. I may not have been to rehearsal, but I know the appropriate response to that question is, ‘I do.’ And from what I can tell, Oaklee hasn’t said the magic words yet.

  The room is silent as everyone stares at Oaklee.

  Boden’s head tilts slightly, but otherwise, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t so much as mutter a single syllable to ask her what’s wrong.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god. This moment drags forever. I hate uncomfortable silence. I want to speak, do something to fix it. That’s what I would do at work: jump in and save everyone. But I’m not at work. This isn’t my life. And I don’t get involved in fixing relationships, just people.

  My eyes flick from the back of Boden’s head to Oaklee. She swallows hard, as she releases Boden’s hands and grabs at her neck like she can’t breathe. Her face turns green. She’s about to be sick…

  And then she runs. She takes off like a sprinter back down the aisle. Her dress is hiked up, and her heels are clanking loudly with each step against the hard floor.

  “Fuck,” Boden mutters under his breath, before running after her.

  And then twenty groomsmen and bridesmaids are left standing in front of a congregation of almost two hundred without a clue what to do.

  Millie steps forward. “The flu has been going around, and—“

  In June? Not believable, Millie.

  “And this morning, Oaklee woke up with a small fever.”

  I chuckle, yea, she was hungover from last night.

  “But she was so excited to get married today, that she fought through it. It seems like the illness finally caught up with her.”

  The crowd stares at her bewildered, not having a clue what to say or do. It’s not like they are used to witnessing a bride running out on her own wedding. We’ve all seen the Runaway Bride plenty of times, we all know our role is to sit back and laugh and be cynical while the groom chases after the bride to no avail.

  “If you could just give us a moment, I’ll go check on the bride, and then hopefully we can continue the festivities,” Millie finishes, and then she is walking hurriedly out of the chapel. She’s on a mission, but won’t let anyone see her frazzled, adding to the chaos that is this wedding.

  I doubt a single thing Millie said was true, but I do know that even if it is true, there is no way Oaklee will be stepping foot back in this chapel anytime soon. You don’t come back from this level of embarrassment.

  The minister looks at me, and I realize now that Millie is gone, I’m the one expected to hold everyone’s attention.

  I glance at the pianist. “Play until I get back.”

  She hurriedly returns to the piano and begins playing a soft song.

  “Where are you going?” Kade hisses behind me, knowing he will be the next expected to entertain the crowd if I leave.

  “Getting the groom back,” I say. I start walking towards the exit and see my nieces and nephew sitting in the front row. I turn my head to Kade just as I leave and mouth, Get Hazel to sing. That adorable little girl could entertain a crowd for hours.

  I get back to the small entryway that leads in two directions—to the bathrooms and to the two dressing rooms. I don’t know which way everyone went. I listen carefully for voices coming from either direction. Instead, I hear the start of an engine from outside.

  Fuck. Why did I agree to be Boden’s best man? From now on, I’m not just swearing off getting married myself, but being in other people’s weddings. It’s too much responsibility for someone who doesn’t believe in the constitution of marriage.

  I push the doors open and go outside, hoping like hell the bride ha
sn’t actually taken off, and that this is all a big misunderstanding.

  4

  Millie

  I thought Oaklee was sick—I truly did. I saw the way her face turned green. I heard the heavy breathing and saw the glisten of sweat on her neck. All the signs pointed to her being sick.

  So when I gave my little speech, I thought I was speaking the truth. Well, okay, maybe I thought she was hungover, but that still classifies as sick. I knew they should have had the bachelor and bachelorette parties earlier instead of the night before the wedding, but it wasn’t up to me.

  I thought Oaklee was sick, until I watched her run out the front door instead of turning toward the bathroom.

  She turned to see who was chasing her, and I saw the fear in her eyes.

  Oaklee isn’t sick—she’s running, I just don’t know why.

  I watch as Oaklee speaks to the limo driver before rounding the limo and heading to the backseat. Boden stands nearby, shouting at her for running out. She stops at the last second before climbing in and begins yelling back.

  I stand back a second, but when I see the tears flowing down Oaklee’s cheeks, and watch as Boden doesn’t do a damn thing to stop it, I lose my cool and run up to Oaklee. I take her hand and squeeze hard, just letting her know I’m here but won’t interfere unless she wants me to.

  She squeezes back like she always does. Other than holding her hand, I don’t have a clue what to do next.

  The church door opens, and I’m afraid the entire congregation is going to run out and witness, well, whatever this is…

  Instead, Sebastian King runs down the three steps and then over to us.

  “What are you doing?” I snap at him while Oaklee and Boden continue to shout at each other. They don’t even realize that Sebastian is here, or seem to care that I’m here, other than I’m holding onto Oaklee’s hand for support.

  “Same as you. I’m the best man. I’m trying to fix this mess.” Sebastian looks at the arguing couple for the first time. “Not that I think this is fixable.”

  I frown and turn back to the couple, listening for the first time to the words they are saying.

  “Oh, you’re going to fix this, huh?” Oaklee turns her attention to Sebastian.

  “I can’t fix this, but I can help. Only you two can fix this,” Sebastian answers. It’s surprisingly mature and rational sounding coming from him.

  “Where were you last night when Boden had his tongue down some slut’s throat?” Oaklee releases my hand and storms toward Sebastian; her anger deflected off Boden for a moment. “Where were you?” She pushes a finger against Sebastian’s hard chest. He doesn’t move an inch; he doesn’t seem bothered by the red hot female unleashing all her rage on him.

  “I’m not your fiancé’s keeper,” Sebastian says.

  She laughs. “Of course not. You’re just his bad influence. Because, to answer my question, you were right next to him, sticking your tongue down another woman’s throat instead of telling him to do the right thing. You’re no better than he is.”

  My mouth falls open as I watch Oaklee storm towards the limo and climb in without looking back at the two idiots. Well, one is an idiot, the other is a cheating asshole.

  I can’t believe Boden cheated on Oaklee. She had to have gotten that part wrong. Or he had to have been manipulated in some way. Boden and Oaklee are perfect together—both so strong and fierce. He rocks the business world; she rules the courtroom. They have the perfect life. There is no way I’m watching it fall apart.

  Both of the men are still staring at the door to the limo, like Oaklee might come back any second. Like this is all one big lie, and any second she’s going to just walk back out, laugh this off, kiss Boden, and then they are going to go back into the church and get married.

  But I know Oaklee—she’s as stubborn as she is smart. And whatever Boden did, she won’t forgive him easily. As much as she loves him, she won’t marry him until she’s forgiven him.

  I climb into the back of the limo and find Oaklee has made her way to the midsection, where the bar is stocked with a chilled bottle of champagne and two flute glasses. She’s working on getting the cork off, but each time she tries, she just ends up breaking off another piece of cork with the cheap knife she’s using.

  “Here, let me—“

  She snarls at me, and I snap my mouth shut. Okay then.

  I sit next to her while I wait to see if the guys are going to get their acts together and climb in before Oaklee orders the driver to leave.

  “Get your ass in there,” I hear Sebastian shout.

  Interesting—I would have thought for sure he’d abandon his friend by now. Or at least told him to give up on fixing his marriage. He was there when Boden was sucking face with a woman who wasn’t his fiancée. Sebastian was probably kissing a married woman—ruining two marriages in one night.

  I feel my chest constrict as I imagine Sebastian kissing another woman after our fight. I spent my night tossing and turning, replaying our conversation over and over, while he was out kissing some floozy, not giving me a second thought.

  “Get out!” Oaklee and I shout at the same time.

  “No,” Sebastian says, shoving Boden in the car. Boden just slumps in the back, staring out the window. Sebastian closes the door, and then I hear the driver start the limo.

  “I’ll just drive around the neighborhood until you give me more clear directions,” the driver says before rolling the divider up.

  We start moving, and all of us fall silent for a second, not sure what to do next.

  Oaklee is still fussing with the champagne bottle, trying to get it open.

  Boden is staring out the window, but I don’t think any thoughts are playing in his head.

  And Sebastian is staring at me with intense eyes.

  Sebastian takes a deep breath before breaking his gaze from mine and looking back and forth between the unhappy couple. He breaks the silence first.

  “Now, I’ve been to a lot of counseling sessions. Not a ton of marriage sessions, but enough to know that nothing will get better if you two don’t talk to each other. No matter if you decide to get married today or not, you won’t be able to move on with your lives until you talk to each other. So who wants to go first?”

  He’s been in a lot of counseling sessions? For what?

  Sebastian looks between Oaklee and Boden, waiting for one of them to speak, but it’s clear they don’t want to talk.

  “Oaklee, you seemed to have plenty to say before, would you like to start? Tell Boden why you are upset with him,” Sebastian tries in a surprisingly calm voice. Is he a therapist? No, there is no way. I’ve never seen a therapist in as good of shape as him, or one as cruel as him.

  Oaklee hisses at him.

  “Okay, Boden, why don’t you start? Tell Oaklee why you’re upset? Or maybe apologize for what you did?” Sebastian tries again.

  Nothing.

  “Good job, Dr. King. It doesn’t look like your little therapy session is going to work,” I say.

  Sebastian leans back, “Then, by all means, you give it a try if you think you know what’s best.”

  Dammit. I didn’t think before I gave my smart-aleck comment, which is why I don’t usually say hurtful things. I don’t like dealing with trouble.

  “Oaklee, it sounds like you are upset that Boden kissed another woman. Is that true?”

  She laughs deviously. “You think I’m upset about a little kiss? Are you serious? I’m not upset that the asshat kissed another woman. I’m upset he fucked her!”

  My mouth drops. I thought it was an innocent kiss—a drunken mistake. But there is no way you can mistakingly slip your dick into a woman who isn’t your fiancée. That’s not a mistake, that’s a choice.

  I stare at Boden wide-eyed, and then I glance at Sebastian, who doesn’t look at all surprised by what Oaklee is saying.

  “You knew?” I ask, looking at Sebastian.

  He doesn’t answer me with his words, but I don’t need his
words. His silence proves his guilt. He helped break up a relationship, one destined for marriage, for forever.

  Oaklee continues to fumble with the bottle. Boden stares out the window like he’s in a daze, and Sebastian smirks like he’s enjoying ruining other people’s lives.

  I’m the helpless optimist stuck in the middle of all these fucked up people. I grab the bottle and knife from Oaklee’s hands and slice the cork off in one pop.

  Champagne spills onto my lap, but I don’t care. I just need the fucking champagne.

  “Flutes,” I say calmly to Oaklee, who grabs one and holds it out to me. I pour, expecting her to drink from one and I the other. Instead, when I fill both glasses, she crawls over to Boden and hands him one, sloshing some of the liquid onto his pants.

  He takes it wordlessly. Then she hands the other to Sebastian, who stares at it like it’s a foreign object to him.

  Oaklee sits back next to me and rips the bottle from my hand before finding a wine glass. She pours champagne into the glass before handing it to me.

  And then she holds the bottle out.

  “To realizing what an ass Boden was before I married him,” Oaklee says.

  “To kicking said asshole to the curb,” I say, holding my glass out.

  Boden’s eyes flicker to us, and then he gives Oaklee an angry smile. “To finding out how much of a prude you were before I gave you half of everything I own.”

  Boden looks to Sebastian, who is watching us all like we are crazy.

  “Your turn, buddy,” Boden says.

  We are all holding our glasses out, or in Oaklee’s case, the entire bottle. We are all waiting on Sebastian before taking a drink.

  Sebastian sits up in his seat, reluctantly, and holds his champagne flute out gingerly, only in his fingertips. His eyes scan to the three of us. “To not losing myself while I save all of you.”

  I frown. Of course, his was selfish; he didn’t even back his friend like I did for Oaklee. And as for saving us, Sebastian is as far from a knight in shining armor as you can get. He won’t be saving anyone.