Chapter 26 An Unhinged Wedding #2
My brother ripped him out of my arms, doused him in gasoline, and struck an entire box of matches to scare him away, and he still waited for me.
In less than an hour, he lost everything that ever meant anything to him.
Me. His family. The only life he ever knew.
When he came home twenty years later, Kent waited for me to come to terms with what I wanted.
With who I wanted. The saddest part was that the entire time he felt like he was losing me, he had me. I've always been his. Always.
“I know I’m a lot sometimes, but you’re it for me.
I don’t want you to think that I take this for granted.
Not a single second of it. If I’m ever …
” He swallowed, and then he looked down as a tear fell down his cheek.
“If I’m ever too much, you have to tell me, okay?
You’re everything to me, Gray, so please don’t let me push you away. ”
“You’ll never push me away. You’re it for me too, Kent.
You know that. And, yeah, sometimes you’re like a storm in a teacup, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.
” I picked the bowtie up from my dresser and slid it around my neck.
“You’re perfect, just as you are. So, if you feel like you need to throw a hissy fit, I want you to, okay?
I live for them. Every single second of it. ”
“You promise?”
“I swear. Now, I need you to walk me through this.” I glanced down at the tie. “You know I’m useless when it comes to these things.”
“I will. Yeah, of course I will.” He swallowed. “But first …” The second he waggled his eyebrows at me, I knew what he wanted.
“No. You know it weirds me out.”
Gone was the blushing bride from moments before. “Let me see it, Grayson.”
Every time. He did this every single time. I thought it was endearing at first—just another of his silly quirks, I told myself—but as time went on, I started to believe he loved it as much as he loved me, and that … well, adorable as it was, it was also a bit concerning.
“I’m not flashing you, Kent. You can wait until tonight.”
“No. You know it’s the only thing that centers me.
I need it. Your flesh does things to me.
Wild things. Maddening things. I won’t apologize for that.
” Kent arched his eyebrow. “Lascivious things.” His tongue darted out of his mouth, circling around his lips, making them nice and moist, like he did every time he …
“Get your hands out of your underwear this second.”
He shook his head and let out a whine. “Show me.”
“If you ask me to do this at the ceremony, you’re going to have a runaway bride situation on your hands.”
“Why would I ask you to whip it out in a church, Gray? Christ, I’m not an absolute deviant.”
“You asked me to show it to you when Dottie was singing during Sunday service last week.” Resigning myself to my fate, I swallowed the last of my pride.
I turned off the cat filter and leaned forward, giving him an unfiltered view of the small bald spot that had been forming at my crown for the last five years.
I hated it. It made me feel like I was geriatric.
Like the best years of my life had come and gone.
But Kent … the way he looked at it, it made me feel beautiful.
Like I was perfect because of my flaws, not in spite of them.
There was a rustling sound that came from his phone, and his breathing became shallow.
“Are you still … Oh, for goodness’ sake, I didn’t agree to be spank bank material.”
“You’re—” He let out a moan, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the sound. “always my—spank—fuck, Gray—spank bank material.”
His eyes closed, and his head tilted back. The gentlest of moans escaped him, coming up as whines and whimpers. I stared at him, lost in pleasure, and I smiled. God, I smiled.
“Gonna fucking marry you so good today, Two-liter.”
I stood in the wings, of our wedding chapel, if you could call it that.
In reality, our wedding venue was just the back lot of the Pick-n-Save.
Sure, there had been other options. The Episcopalian church over in Tallulah had offered to let us get married there, but I knew Kent.
I knew what he believed in and what he didn’t.
God was everywhere, so I didn’t mind not having our service in His home.
Inside the store, I stood on my toes, trying to catch a glance of Kent at the altar through the small window in the double doors. As the door unexpectedly swung open, I was flung against the ground, landing on my back. I stared up at the face of my father who was grinning like a fool.
Offering his hand to me, he chuckled. “Come on, Son. Kent’s going to lose his mind if you make him wait.” Daddy’s grip tightened around my hand, and he pulled me up, launching me directly into his chest, and hugging me tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Gray.”
“Is he … How does he look?” I needed to know. Needed to know that he was just as handsome as I’d imagined him to be.
“Well, you know my motto’s always been ‘a tux-is-a-tux, is-a-tux,’ but he looks … Let’s just say if I were thirty years younger—”
I gaped at him.
“Or if he were thirty years older,” he said with a sigh, gazing longingly at the ceiling.
“Okay, well, we’ll circle back to—whatever the heck that was—when this is all done, but I’ve got an aisle to walk down.” I turned back toward the double doors, taking in a deep breath. Bringing my hands to the side of my tux jacket, I ran my thumbs under the lapel like a bigshot executive.
I felt like I was filled with nothing but poise, power, and a ‘pretty nice butt,’ per Kent Fox. Turning back to my father, I let out a groan. “Daddy, now. Stop daydreaming about Kent, he’s about to be your son in law, for Gosh’s sake.
He shook his head, blinking slowly as if he were trying to wake himself up from his little session of lust. Oh, yes. We’d definitely be circling back to that later. Preferably with a pre-printed contract for him to sign, agreeing to never fantasize about my soon-to-be husband in front of me again.
The double doors opened, and I’d expected to walk through them, past the small pink archway, and into the repurposed stockroom, just as I had for the rehearsal.
That didn’t happen. Instead, there was a narrow archway that looked to have been constructed out of the U-boat carts we used to load freight onto.
They were lined on both sides of us with pink and white plastic tablecloths draped over, making it appear like I was walking into the gayest enclosed maze ever constructed.
Pink and white plastic above, below, and at my sides, with hundreds of gardenias precisely placed to guide Daddy and I toward our destination.
The way they’d constructed the tunnel, there were twists and turns throughout, and at one point, there was even a fork in the road.
We went took the path to the right, we turned two more corners, and came to a dead end.
Taped to the wall was a note.
Gray Collins, my love, my light, my wish upon a star that came true: In this family, we lean to the left both politically and romantically. This was your first marital test, and MY GOD, you have failed it spectacularly.
I looked at Daddy. “What the heck does that even mean?”
Daddy shrugged. “I think it’s supposed to be a dig at you being a Republican, son. Best you just take it in stride.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. This is ridiculous. He knows I’m a left-leaning centrist.”
“For God and country,” Daddy agreed, nodding his head.
“I voted blue in the last … well, I voted blue in every election. He knows that.”
“You did what?” Daddy said, cocking an eyebrow.
No, we didn’t have time for political wars. Not with Kent outside, probably foaming at the mouth.
I folded the note and tucked it into my pocket before turning around and retracing our steps.
When we made it back to the fork in the road, we went left, looping around in strange, inconsistent pathways.
As we got closer to the end, there was a selection of pictures taped to the pink, plastic table cloths.
On the left, photos of my fiancé. On the right, pictures of me.
As I walked forward, I watched as our love story unfolded in front of me.
Pictures of me and Kent as toddlers. Us at church.
Hugging at the Southgate Evangelical Conference.
And finally, the picture that still broke my heart to look at.
Us at the lake, surrounded by an eccentric, low-carb food selection.
I’d taken the picture of us the day I told him I was proposing to Sarah.
Aside from the day my brother almost killed him, and the day he left West Clark, it had been the worst day of my life.
Watching him with so much hope in his eyes, knowing what I was about to do to him …
It just about killed me. I’d needed proof—something tangible that I could hold onto.
Something to prove that for one day, for two hours, he still loved me. A memory I could carry to my grave.
I’d printed the photo as soon as I dropped him off at his mother’s, that day. After I’d allowed him to cling to me like a life preserver on the ride home. After he openly sobbed against my chest.
I wasn’t a good man. I know that now. I was careless with two hearts.
I treated them as if they were playthings at my disposal, and I made no attempt to stop myself from bringing either of them hurt.
I wasted eight years of her life. Eight years neither of us could ever get back.
I’d told Kent so many times that I couldn’t be the man that he needed me to be, knowing the words were meant for her.
It was always going to be him. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in decades.
From the moment I met him, Kent Fox consumed me like rising fire, ripping and roaring all around, and there’d never been a soul who’d burned more beautifully.