“Of course I was insanely jealous. Jealous of a girl I’d never even met, because I knew … I’d never be able to compare to you. You shared so much with him. So much more than I will ever fully understand. You’re everything I’m never going to be, Murph.”
“M-me?” I laugh incredulously, pointing to myself before pushing my glasses up my nose.
She chuckles softly, gauging me, looking at me closely, and I can’t help but cower beneath her scrutiny. I know I look a mess with my unruly curls all frizzy and wayward, wearing a tank top, sans bra, holding an empty glass of vodka at eleven o’clock in the damn morning. I place the glass onto the counter so I don’t I drop it to smash against the floor.
“Yeah, you, Murph.” She laughs at me with an incredulous look in her eyes. “I did everything I could do to try to convince him I was the one for him. Not you. I even … and I’m so sorry—” She pauses and I watch as she closes her eyes a moment, seeming to take a fortifying breath before swallowing hard and looking at me. “One night we were at a friend’s birthday dinner, and Nash went to the bathroom. Well, he left his cell phone on the table and it lit up, and I saw a text message from you.”
I watch as she so clearly battles with whatever it is she’s about to say.
“I read the message. It said” — She closes her eyes, recounting word for word — “I miss you. I’m so empty. I wish you were here. I need you.”
I gasp, remembering that exact text message. It was a stupid mistake. I’d been drunk and lonely, and I’d been thinking about the night we spent together over New Year’s. “He never responded …” I think out loud.
Anna’s face tells me without words exactly why Nash never responded to me that night. She intercepted and she deleted the text before he even had a chance to see it. And I nod, not needing her to clarify any further. “You did some shitty things this week, Murph.”
“I know,” I whisper, bowing my head.
“But I get it.” She smiles and, most unexpectedly, she reaches out and takes my hand in hers. I look down at our hands a moment before my eyes meet hers. “Don’t worry about Nash. He’ll get over it,” she continues. “And I promise, no matter what, I’m never going to take him away from you. I might be his wife, but you’ll always be his Murph.”
I manage a smile, although it’s difficult to smile when all you really want to do is cry. But I won’t let her see me cry. It’s her wedding day. She doesn’t need to deal with my emotions, especially when I’m the one who’s caused my own tears.
“Please consider coming today,” Anna says as she pushes herself off the island counter. “It’ll mean more than the world to Nash if you’re there.”
I exhale a sigh.
“It’ll mean a lot to me, too.” She smiles.
I don’t commit to anything, instead I push off the countertop, and I lean in to return the hug she’s pulling me into. With her arms around me, I can’t help but feel as if this exchange between us is genuine and, for a moment, I become lost in our embrace.
“Now,” Anna says with an exasperated huff as she pulls away. “I must get back. Mother will no doubt be beside herself when she realizes I’m not at the club getting ready.” And, with an air kiss to each of my cheeks she turns back toward the doorway before pausing and looking at me over her shoulder. “Oh, and Murph? I bet Harley would like to see you there today.” She flashes a knowing smile, and then she’s gone almost as quickly and unexpectedly as she’d arrived.
And, in an instant, my heart is left stammering in my chest at the mere mention of Harley, and I glance across the room, to the framed photos hanging on the far wall. Photos of Momma and me. Photos of me and Nash. Photos of me, Nash and Harley. My life up on the wall in the one place where my heart lives.
But then my eyes move to a set of photobooth pictures, from a night I’d almost forgotten about. I walk across the kitchen to get a closer look. It was the night Harley surprised me for my twentieth birthday with tickets to the sold-out Taylor Swift show in Nashville. He knew how badly I wanted to go, and how bummed I’d been when I’d missed out. But then he showed up on my doorstep with two tickets, and drove me all the way to Nashville. I smile as I look at the two us in the photobooth that had been at the stadium, and I can’t help but laugh at Harley wearing his Taylor Swift tour T-shirt, smiling like a total dork. He’s done so much for me over the years. I hate that I’ve wasted every opportunity to tell him how I feel because I’ve been so caught up on something that was never meant to be. Something that has been holding me back for far too long.
I consider Anna’s words, biting down on my thumbnail.
Would Harley really want to see me? After everything I’ve done, I have no doubt that he hates me. But he owns my heart, and I can’t give up on my heart. This could be my only chance to truly tell him how I feel. I have to try. I can’t lose him without at least trying, first.
Taking a deep breath, I feel more conflicted than ever.
***
I stare at my reflection for what feels like forever.
Considering I’d raced home and gotten ready in less than an hour, the mirror presents an image I don’t immediately hate. Dressed in a tea-length, red satin dress with a full skirt, teamed with royal blue heels and a matching clutch purse, I somehow managed to wrangle my wayward hair into a messy bun that contradicts the perfection of the dress but seems to work. With my makeup left to a minimum, I didn’t want to take away from the striking dress I’d been keeping in the back of my closet for a moment like this. And, as I look at the girl in the mirror’s glass, I still can’t believe I’m about to watch on as Nash marries a woman who isn’t me.
And, in that moment, my mind flashes back through the years, and our most precious memories play through my head. I remember the first time I heard him laugh. Really laugh. He’d been covered in bruises his horrible father had given him; a black eye, a split lip, he was in so much pain both inside and out. But I’d said something—I can’t even remember what it was—I don’t even think I meant for it to be funny but, for whatever reason, he found it to be the funniest thing he’d ever heard, and he roared with laughter. It was a sound like nothing I’d ever heard before: throaty yet high-pitched, not dissimilar to a hyena. And I smiled, watching his head fall back in hysterics, knowing that it was me who’d just made him laugh like that when he was clearly in so much physical and emotional pain, and I knew it was a sound I’d cherish for the rest of my life.
I remember the first time he’d looked at me in a way I’d never been looked at before. The way it made my heart feel as if it had actually skipped a beat. The way he’d stolen my breath away with just one look. The way he’d made me feel like I was the only other person in the entire world. I remember our first hug, our first kiss, our first everything, and I’m so thankful I got to experience so many firsts with him.
But those memories, they’re past. And I know now that Nash isn’t my future, and I’m okay with that. Exhaling a shaky breath, I manage a smile despite the raw emotion overwhelming me. It’s time to let go. I’m the luckiest woman to have had Nash in my life, but it’s time to move on from what was, time to say goodbye to what will never be again.
Chapter 32
By the time I finally force myself to leave the house, of course I’m late to Harrington Country Club. Most of the wedding guests are already seated by the time I walk through the doors of the chapel, but I stop in the entrance, my jaw dropping. I’m struck, taken aback by the sheer beauty inside. A string quartet is playing classical covers of popular music from the front corner, the perfume from the floral arrangements hangs low in the air, and candlelight casts a soft glow throughout. And then, suddenly, my eyes find Nash standing up ahead, and I’m rendered breathless feeling something tighten in my chest, something I hadn’t been prepared to feel.
He’s dressed in a black tuxedo made to fit his body, and my eyes widen as I take him in from head to toe, and again my heart begins to stammer relentlessly in my chest. As if on cue, he turns his h
ead, and our eyes meet, and a moment passes between us. His face is indifferent, impassive, and something flashes in his blue eyes. And in that split second, I’m not sure whether I’ve made the right decision in coming. Maybe he doesn’t want me here. Maybe Anna was wrong. Maybe he really does hate me, and will hate me forever. Maybe I’ve lost him for good.
But, just as I begin to get carried away with my own thoughts of doubt, I spot the slightest hint of a smile sparkle in those blue eyes, and I release the breath I’d been holding as I watch him suddenly come to, snapping into gear before hurrying down the aisle toward me so fast he’s almost running. He stops right in front of me, looking me up and down before studying my face, his eyes flitting between mine. “You came,” he says through a trembling breath, as if he can’t quite believe I’m standing right in front of him.
Tears prick my eyes, but I manage a smile, nodding.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head before moving in and wrapping his arms around me. And I’m fully aware as almost every person in the chapel turns their head in our direction, all eyes watching our exchange, but I lose myself within his embrace, burying my face into the crook of his neck and smiling through the tears threatening my composure.
“I never want to lose you, Murph,” he says so softly, so gently, so tentatively.
I pull back just enough to look into his eyes, and I can see he’s trying to contain his own emotion, tears catching the light as he sniffles quietly. I shake my head, offering him a knowing look before leaning in and whispering, “Forever and always.”
Nash’s shoulders seem to sag at my words and I know he’s remembering the night we spent together when we were only 14 years old. Taking my hand in his, he leads me up the aisle, and I try my best to ignore the curious glances and the hushed whispers coming from the crowded rows on either side. I try to ignore the thoughts running through my head, that this could have been us. We could have been walking down this very aisle together as husband and wife. But none of those could’ve beens matter anymore because I know no matter what, Nash will always be a part of my life in one way or another. Stopping at the end of the aisle, Nash directs me to sit right beside his grandmother before hesitating momentarily, looking down at me with a look of apprehension in his eyes.
“Go!” I laugh quietly, giving him the encouragement he needs.
With a smile I haven’t seen in a long time, one that takes me right back to the very first moment I met him when we were just 9 years old, Nash exhales a trembling breath, offering me one last knowing look before turning and hurrying back to his post at the top of the aisle, and I sit, fidgeting nervously as his grandmother whispers something to me about how beautiful I look, which is precisely the moment I suddenly notice Harley, finding him watching me from the small huddle of groomsmen standing right up there with Nash.
My heart stops. He looks better than I could have ever been prepared for. In fact, I can’t even breathe right now as I stare at him completely unabashedly. His chestnut hair is swept back from his face, perfectly styled. The green in his eyes is illuminated, flickering shades of emerald and olive and flecks of gold with every lick of the candles scattered haphazardly around the altar. The stubble lining his jaw contradicts the perfectly tailored suit he’s wearing, which fits his body like a glove. He’s pure perfection.
Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, he leans in closer to Kevin, pretending to listen to whatever crude words are likely coming from his mouth, all the while watching me, his face a blank canvas despite the plethora of emotions flashing within his eyes. I try to offer him the smallest hint of a smile, but it’s a sentiment he doesn’t return, and that stings. Instead, he simply offers a curt nod before averting his eyes and turning to look toward the entrance as the telltale music begins to play throughout the space.
While everyone stands and turns to look toward the doors, I continue staring straight ahead as I make my way to my feet, wondering if that look was his way of telling me that it’s over. We’re done. Before we even had a real chance. And, at that sobering thought, my heart shatters, falling into a million jagged shards at the pit of my belly.
I swallow the pain and regret at the back of my throat, sniffling back the emotion as I watch Nash, witnessing that sudden look of adoration claim his face the moment he spots his bride at the end of the aisle. And it’s a bittersweet moment. I used to imagine this day, the way he would look at me when he got that first glimpse of me in my wedding dress. And while he may not be looking at me, from the way his brow climbs slightly higher, to the way his blue eyes light up, glistening with unshed tears, to the way the corners of his lips curve upward just a touch, it’s a beautiful sight. And I can’t help but smile as I watch my best friend marry the love of his life.
***
As the congregation of wedding guests gathers out on the patio dusk settles over the pristine view of the manicured golf course. I stand alone with a flute of champagne in one hand and a canapé in the other, staring out as the sky turns a deep shade of magenta with sparkling gold undertones. Its beauty is captivating, and at that moment, feeling as empty and as hollow as I do on the inside, I envy the breathtaking sky.
“Hey …” a familiar voice chimes from behind me, and I turn to see Emma looking at me with a tentative smile as she shifts from foot to foot, her eyes downcast, avoiding mine. She looks beautiful in a shimmering navy dress, her dark hair pulled up into a sleek bun, showing off her delicate neck and striking features.
“Hey.” I smile, breathing a sigh of relief, thankful to know at least someone outside of the groomsmen. “I didn’t know you were coming!” I wrap an arm around her, pulling her in for a brief hug.
“Yeah, I—um … It was all real last minute.”
My brows knit together in confusion at her words, and I watch as she obviously avoids my eyes. “What do you mean?” I laugh once under my breath before taking a sip of my champagne.
Finally, she lifts her head, her eyes finding mine, and she releases a sigh so heavy, her shoulders sag as if she has the weight of the world resting upon them.
“Em?” I press. “Is everything okay?”
To be honest, she’s starting to worry me. Emma has never been the kind of girl to take things too seriously. She looks like the whole world is against her, and my stomach is beginning to twist uncomfortably, because I just know something’s wrong, and I have a sick feeling that that something might have to do with me. But, before she can speak and say whatever it is that’s weighing heavily upon her, the throng of wedding guests is suddenly a flurry with excitement, and I glance over Emma’s shoulder to see Anna’s bridesmaids enter, accompanied by the groomsmen. And frustratingly, I can’t help but smile when my gaze lands on Harley as he effortlessly commands the attention of the crowd with a dimpled smile and a wave of his beer bottle in the air.
My heart begins to race as he makes his way toward me, his eyes raking over me from my head to my toes, and I feel a swarm of butterflies flutter wildly in my belly. Maybe I was wrong before. Maybe it’s not as good as done. But then, my heart sinks as those butterflies flutter off and abandon me the very minute he stops next to Emma and snakes his arm around her shoulders, leaning in to place a kiss against her cheek.
“Hi, babe.” He looks down at her, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips. “You look sexy as hell in that dress.”
Emma flashes me an uncertain glance, and I feel sick. Like I might actually vomit all over myself. The skin at the back of my neck prickles and itches, burns. My palms begin to sweat. And I just know tears are imminent. But I have no right to be upset. He’s free to do whatever or, whomever, he chooses. I’m the one who screwed everything up.
Emma looks from Harley to me, and back again, nervously tracing the rim of her champagne flute with her fingertip, avoiding my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Murph, I swear I—” She shakes her head, stopping herself, staring down at her glass.
Harley balks, muttering something under his breath as he flashes me a look of
pure disgust, a look that hurts like hell, before taking a big swig from his bottle of beer, and Emma flashes him a warning glare before finally looking at me. “Murph, I didn’t— I mean, I know this is—”
“Em, it’s fine.” I force a smile onto my face, brushing off her inability to finish her sentences and her concern with a wave of my hand. But I don’t dare look at Harley, because I know he’ll see straight through me, so I ignore him as best as I can. Even Emma offers me a doubtful look, but I continue anyway, knowing she doesn’t believe a single word coming out of my mouth. “He’s single. He can do whatever he wants. And you two are good together, so …” I try my best at a nonchalant shrug, even though I know I’m not fooling anyone. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Murph, wait!” I hear Emma call after me, but I ignore her, pushing past Harley with a little more force than necessary.
I snake my way through the crowd, desperate for a reprieve from the shame and humiliation that is quickly overwhelming me. I feel hot tears hit my cheeks, and I duck my head, hurrying as fast as I can toward the nearest bathroom as if my life depends on it.
Chapter 33
I’m not sure if it’s the champagne I’ve consumed on an otherwise empty stomach, or the beautiful song playing throughout the expanse of the ballroom, but the longer I sit all alone looking out over the dance floor full of happy couples swaying to the soft music, the more I begin to wonder what the hell I’m even still doing here.
I force myself to look away from Anna and Nash because I don’t think I can bear to watch them share another meaningful kiss as they stare lovingly at one another and giggle softly between themselves. It’s beautiful but sickening at the same time and, of course, I’m envious. Their happiness. That love. It’s all I want. When my eyes find Harley dancing with Emma, his chin resting intimately on top of her head, it’s like a knife straight to my heart. I close my eyes tight, feeling an overwhelming sense of regret settle low in my belly. Even Kevin is dancing with one of Anna’s cousins from Long Island. She’s almost as loud and obnoxious as he is but, to be honest, they’re a perfect fit. I can’t believe I’m actually jealous of Kevin.
Where We Belong Page 23
