White Wedding
WHITE WEDDING
RACHEL
Since my pacing had worn a hole in the floor, I had no choice. I had to call him and apologize. The best-case scenario would be that Cam wouldn’t answer. He’d be asleep or at one of his restaurants, and I could leave the speech I had been practicing for the past few hours in a message.
Thank goodness, his voicemail picked up.
“Cam, it’s me and?—”
“Hello?”
Uhhhh.
Shit.
“Hi,” I said in the smallest voice ever.
“Hi, hey.”
He sounded sad and small himself.
“Um, well, I had rehearsed this perfect message to leave on your voicemail, and the scenario I planned out in my head would be that you’d listen to it days from now, but here goes.”
I waited for him to speak, but all I could hear was the hum of the open phone line in the background.
“I’m sorry,” I continued.
“What? Why?” he asked. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“No, I do. Let me just get this out. I had no right to kiss you. I had no right to blurt out ‘I’m falling in love with you.’ Because … because … you’re not mine. You’re not my lover and you’re not my boyfriend. We were pretending to be a couple and that doesn’t mean it was real. I wanted it to be real so badly that I kept pushing it.”
“You didn’t?—”
“No, you made it clear about what you wanted, and I completely disregarded that because of what I wanted, and I called to say that I’m not mad or upset and I still very much want to be your plus one, one last time.”
More silence.
My heart thudded in my ears. “Unless you don’t want me to be.”
“I absolutely still want you to be my plus one. I need you there. I can’t do it without you.”
I almost fainted from hearing him say he needed me.
“Yay, okay, great. I mean, we have to see Operation Soaring Midnight Falcon through, yeah?”
“Exactly.”
I plopped myself down on my sofa and picked at a divot in the end table. “So yeah, that’s it. That’s the speech I’ve been practicing for an hour.”
“Well, practice makes perfect. And that was perfect.”
I suddenly hated that he was miles away and that we were talking over the phone. I wanted to see his face, see his expression when I made him laugh. Hear him sigh and see him run his hand through his hair.
“Kicklighter?”
“Yes, yes?”
“Your speech was perfect except for one thing.”
“And that is?”
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry for anything. I was a willing participant in every kiss, every hand hold … everything else. And it was everything. There’s so much of me that wants all this to be real and official and a part of me that has realized I have more stuff to figure out before I can be your person. You, Rachel, deserve only the best person.”
The tone of his voice, the silence that now passed through the phone …
Why did this feel like an official goodbye? I wasn’t ready for that, but I knew what he was saying was right. He did still have stuff to work through. I realized that I did too.
“Thank you for that,” I finally said. “I guess we should lie low until the wedding. Take some time.”
“I guess,” he said and then sighed heavily.
“I’m glad you picked up the phone.”
“Me too. I’m glad you called,” he said.
“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“I’ll pick you up?”
“Meet you there. Text me the info.”
He got quiet again and then finally said okay. We said our goodbyes in soft voices, and I blew out the longest breath after I’d hung up. I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t be tempted to text or call him back.
Over the next few weeks, I prepped for leaving my family business, a place I had worked for over half my life. I worked hard to finalize orders, check on shipments, and resolve warranty concerns. I wasn’t totally sure if my mother was serious about firing me, but I didn’t want to take the chance of things falling through the cracks after I was gone. These might be my last days, but I wasn’t going to risk my reputation by leaving my work unfinished. Carol moped around the store and looked at me with a forlorn face every time I passed her in the showroom.
“She’s not going to go through with this,” Carol said one morning, folding her hands into each other. “We can’t run this business without you.”
“We’ll see,” I said, fluffing a pillow on a nearby sofa. “I’m preparing for the worst-case scenario. I’m glad my mother is away on another trip so I can enjoy these last few days.”
“Where else would you work?”
I shrugged and straightened some books on a coffee table. “Not sure yet. I have some savings, maybe I’ll open my own small store eventually.”
“If you do, I’m coming to work for you.”
“Can I pay you in iced coffees to start?”
Carol winked. “Deal.”
When the day of the wedding arrived, I was both giddy and gloomy. My heart could not wait to see Cam, but my head knew it would probably be my last time seeing him for an even longer while. But I couldn’t let my inner turmoil cloud my mission tonight. I was not leaving this wedding until I found a way to save Dr. Roman Allen Nash.
My phone buzzed as I started to get dressed.
Cam
Confirming that I’ll see you at the Scott at 7 p.m. Can’t wait to see you
Same
Cam
I’m sending a car for you. Don’t Uber
That’s not necessary
Cam
Yes it is. It’s the least I can do for you being willing to do this with me today. And I’ve already given the driver a large tip, so all you have to do is get here
Ok. See you soon
Unless all-white outfits are explicitly required for guests, it is an unspoken rule that a guest shouldn’t wear white to a wedding so they don’t upstage the bride. Since I was attending Britt’s sham wedding to Roman, I donned one of my favorite white dresses. A skintight bandage dress with spaghetti straps and white heels with bows that tied at the back of my ankles. Red lips and red handbag.
I’m coming for you, Britt Matthews.
Operation Soaring Midnight Falcon is coming for you .