Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hallie
“ C an you pass me my lipstick?” Erica asks.
She’s standing in front of the small bathroom mirror in little more than her shapewear and powder-blue strappy heels. The whole scene feels a little surreal, mostly because no one tells you that when you purchase a formfitting mermaid-tail wedding dress, the easiest way to pee is to take the whole thing off. This, as it turns out, is exactly why there’s a room set aside specifically for the bridal party.
The other thing that’s surreal? My best friends are now married. They have the paperwork to prove it. I’d signed it as a witness and couldn’t think of a single thing I’d put my name to that I believed in more.
Passing Erica the small makeup bag, I ask, “How are you feeling?”
The ceremony this morning had been beautiful and intimate, with only close friends and family. Their vows, which they wrote themselves, had tears pooling in my eyes, but I’d been able to keep them from falling.
Erica’s smile in the reflection is nothing but blissful. “I’m happy, really happy. And I’m excited to see everyone at the reception. But mostly, I’m looking forward to getting some type of dirty burger with Jules on the way home and collapsing in bed.”
“No wild hotel wedding night, then?” I ask cheekily.
She snorts a small laugh. “Uh, no. I told Jules I had no wish to waste a night in a hotel simply sleeping because after my 4:00 a.m. start this morning, that’s all that’s going to happen.”
“Well, a burger sounds like a brilliant idea to me.”
Washing my hands for the hundredth time today, I dry them completely before reaching for Erica’s dress where it’s hanging on the back of the door.
“You ready?”
“Sure am.”
I hold the dress gingerly as she steps into it, the off-white satin sliding up like a second skin over her thighs and hips. The art-deco-style beading is light on the skirt and gets heavier and more detailed over her stomach and chest before fading out again around the deep V-neck.
Adjusting the straps on her shoulders, I make my way to the back of the dress, grabbing a hand towel for my now-sweating palms, and set myself to tackle the tiny buttons before me.
Erica is quiet while I work, and I remain thankful that the back of her dress is cut low. The thought of a full back of these little hellions sends a shiver of true fear through me.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, gently and ever considerate.
I’m glad to be hidden away from her knowing eyes. “I’m okay.”
And it’s the truth. I am okay.
Everything I’d assumed about Marcus had possibly been wrong or at least misconstrued. I didn’t know what to think, had no idea what to feel. Couldn’t help but remember the way he’d held my hands in his only days ago, the ring he’d wanted to give me between us. How my hands had shaken holding my small bouquet as I’d walked down the aisle toward him at the ceremony. How his eyes had held mine, steady and sure, until I’d taken my place beside Katie and Rhianna. I’d been grateful when the bridal party photos had all been group ones. Beyond grateful.
When Marcus had left me sitting in his bedroom, I’d stayed there long enough to think that even though things were fractured between us, I still wanted him to ask me to stay. Knowing I shouldn’t need him to say the words, shouldn’t want him to say them, hadn’t made it any less painful when he didn’t. It’d killed me all the same.
At first, I’d been angry, so frustrated at the ridiculous roller coaster our lives had taken us on and the lack of choice I’d had in it. The initial anger, however, had faded fast, and I’d been left having to acknowledge that I, too, had made choices. Choices that involved not coming home, not hearing about Marcus, and not acting like I cared about his general existence for the last eight years. I’d spent the last two days thinking about what it would’ve been like if our roles had been reversed. I liked to think I would’ve responded differently, but I couldn’t be certain.
The icing on the cake of my turbulent thoughts is the thought of Marcus owning my grandmother’s house. Knowing he has no intention to tear it down should be a relief. But instead, I can’t stop thinking about the life he’ll have if he chooses to live there. And more importantly, who he’ll choose to share it with.
Buttons secure, I move in front of Erica, giving her a final once-over and a bright smile. “You’re a goddess.”
She ignores me completely. “Are you sure you’re okay, Hallie?”
“Erica, I’m perfect. In no uncertain terms is there a place I’d rather be right now. This day is magical.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Seeing you and Jules happy? It’s what I want to see, it’s what I want to be a part of. It’s your day. Stop worrying about me.”
Katie pops her head through the door, calling us for the speeches, and though Erica doesn’t look like she believes me, not one hundred percent, she still says, “Okay.”
Marcus stands, clasping his little brother tight in his arms, their smiles radiant. I’m grateful that he’d been able to mend things with Julian, that Julian had listened when we’d spoken.
Just like the day at the tailor, Marcus looks unbelievable in his suit, coat jacket thrown over his chair, the top button on his shirt undone beneath his tie.
If you didn’t know him, the light shadows under his eyes would go unnoticed, but I saw them. I’d noticed.
Ever able to command a room, he gives the guests a quick, cocky grin.
“Good evening. As most of you will know, I’m the groom’s older and better-looking brother. And through his own personal selection and poor judgment, I am the best man .”
Guests laugh politely, and he continues, relaxing into his role. “Jules, where do I even start? Growing up together, we had our ups and downs, competing in sports, family Monopoly nights, and for the interests of girls. But no matter where in our lives we’ve found ourselves, you’ve always been the best brother a guy could ask for.
“Julian, you’re a man who’s loyal and dedicated to those he loves. You might be my baby brother, but in the way of love, you outpaced me as soon as you met Erica. And who could blame you? She’s a woman worth crossing oceans for, and a beautiful bride at that.” He takes a small pause, looking over to the bride in question, shooting her a quick wink and a smile.
“Watching the two of you together—the way that you respect one another, but more specifically, the way that you show up for one another—has been eye-opening. Julian, seeing how you fight for Erica, how you stand up for your love for her, unwilling and unwavering in your dedication to her, is something I admire in you. And I know from the happiness that radiates from you that I’ll be a very lucky man indeed to have this for myself one day.
“I’d never admit it in any other circumstance, but as kids, Jules and I were quite big fans of the Olsen twins and their cinematic masterpieces.”
There’s a small smattering of surprised laughter, and both the groom and his best man share a similar pink flush to their cheeks. I feel myself smiling as I listen along, as this isn’t something I’d known about them either.
Marcus continues, a small smile playing out over his features and lighting his eyes.
“We watched their movies and sang along to their music.” He looks down, giving a little shake of his head as if he can’t believe he’s made that fact public. His eyes lift once more. “But what I remember most is how love was described in one of the films. That it has to be ‘can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, World Series kinda stuff.’ They did a pretty good job of being able to express to two young boys just how big love was meant to feel. And as someone who’s felt that love, who knows this feeling, I’m so glad the two of you are going to get to experience it together for the rest of your lives.”
My eyes are locked on Marcus the whole time he speaks, each word melting into me, and then as he returns to his seat, his eyes find mine. There’s no cocky grin, no teasing smirk.
His words ring through me . And as someone who has felt that love, who knows this feeling.
Beneath the table, Erica’s fingers dig into my thigh, her sharp nails a piercing presence that I barely register among the turmoil spinning inside me, but then she’s clapping along with everyone else.
I can’t bring myself to be so polite, so put together. Instead, my hands tightly grip the seat of my chair. Whether I’m holding myself in place or about to use the coiling pressure as a form of propulsion is yet to be determined. Most shockingly, however, is the sudden knowledge that it’s not away from him that I want to run, but to him.
The emcee for the night calls the happy couple up to cut their cream-frosted cake, and as Erica rises, she leans in close to my ear, whispering, “If you leave him, you’re crazy.”
Erica’s right. I am crazy, just not for the reason she’s thinking.
I follow along blindly with the running sheet of the evening as Erica and Julian make their way to the floor for their first dance. The lights dim, allowing for the white pillar candles in tall glass colonnades surrounding the dance floor to illuminate the moment, if only for this one song. The rest of us will just have to do with the ambiance provided by the fairy lights strung up and above our heads.
Julian leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to Erica’s neck, and then he spins her out, her dress lifting and flowing around her feet. Her smile is joyous to behold, my heart swelling with happiness for them.
The change in pressure on my chair is my first clue that I’m no longer alone, second only to the goose bumps that rise along my skin.
There’s only one person I’m attuned to in this way. Even if the slight, almost invisible touch that normally precedes him speaking doesn’t come.
With uncanny timing, I look up at Marcus just as the emcee asks for the bridal party to join the bride and groom on the dance floor. A small smile is already on his lips, and without a word, he steps back from my chair, holding out a single hand in my direction. I can’t help but stare at it, outstretched before me, feeling like I’m agreeing to more than a single dance. I place my clammy palm in his warm one, not allowing myself to think about it for a moment longer.
I let him lead me to the dance floor as if this evening were just for us. For all intents and purposes, it might as well be. What difference does it make as to why everyone else is here when all I see is him?
I take a breath, stand a little straighter, and put the smile on my face back into place. I’ve hardly let it slip today, not when the happiness of two people I love so much is being celebrated. Today is theirs. I have the rest of my life to worry about everything else.
Marcus’s eyes are on mine as he takes the initiative, stepping in close. “Play nice with me?” he asks. “Just for tonight.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear, nervous and considering.
“Okay,” I say with a small dip of my chin.
He nods, seeming to instinctively understand that I’m too tired, too emotionally drained for the sharp words that I can normally call upon to fill the imperfect spaces between us. His touch is warm and welcome as he places one hand on my lower back, the other clasping with my own, our fingers naturally intertwining. We don’t move fast; we hardly move at all, which is so not the point. The point is that we are close—closer than we’ve been in days—and while my body feels at ease, just like I knew it would, my mind picks up speed.
Marcus brings his lips close to my ear. “You look beautiful.”
They are the first proper words he’s spoken to me all day in this tentative period of peace, playing our roles while everyone else watches on.
“Thank you.” My fingers hold still over his left shoulder, even as they itch to trace patterns over his suit and along the muscles of his back.
I feel his head shake slightly in disagreement. “Hallie, it’s I who should be thanking you. Whatever you said to Julian…I’m glad neither of us ended up uninvited from this day.”
I nod, my eyes stinging just a little.
Clearing my throat delicately, I put my smile back on. “Your best man’s speech was something else.”
“It was just the truth,” he murmurs with a small shrug, muscles moving beneath my fingers.
Wanting to admit it or not, there’s a good chance that for all his past faults, Marcus is currently the most honest one of the two of us.
“You know, I’ll never begrudge you for choosing yourself, Hallie,” he continues. “For choosing what you want, no matter where it takes you. I know you’ve only ever been hurt by the people who were supposed to have loved you. I’ve lied to you and have been unworthy of you—I still am. You should go back to Edinburgh and embrace your life there.”
My heart shatters.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I haven’t booked my flight yet. That I’ve been considering his words, his choices. That I don’t blame him, and even though it hurts, I understand. But I can’t seem to find the courage to say what I need to. Because right now, he’s giving me the choice to have everything I want, and I’m not brave enough to speak my desires aloud.
But when the slow music stops, adjusting to a more upbeat tempo, I keep hold of his hand. Marcus doesn’t resist as I lead him off the dance floor, out into the lobby of the reception center, up the stairs, and into the small room marked for the bridal party.
In here, it’s quiet, and I check the connected bathroom to make sure we’re alone.
Marcus closes the door behind us, but instead of following me into the room, he leans up against it. I head to where he stands, knowing that he shouldn’t need to be the one to make the first move right now.
When there’s only a few inches between us, I’m able to see for certain that any masks we’ve been wearing for the sake of the other have been dropped. I can tell by his eyes they don’t look as happy to see me as I would like them to, and I also know they aren’t as bright as they were only a week ago. Knowing I had anything to do with this hurts a whole lot more than it should. Part of me had been hoping for a smirk. A glance in my direction. A come-hither look so I knew it’d be okay for me to wrap my hand around his damn tie and pull his lips down to mine. And wow. Have I loved hating on this man or what?
I step in closer again, my heart throwing itself up against my rib cage in a desperate effort for its release.
I don’t have the words. Or maybe I don’t have the trust in myself to find the right ones to convey how I feel without sabotaging what I want. Everyone else might find our droll and sarcastic banter as a show of mutual, peaceful dislike, but it’s been a long time since either of us has spoken that way to the other with any real malice. The love-hate of our past had made it funny. Flirty, even. But in the here and now, to fall back on it just feels wrong.
I hope he’ll let me show him instead.
Keeping my eyes on his, I tease my fingertips across his forehead and along the side of his jaw. Marcus doesn’t flinch at my touch, but he doesn’t turn into either. So I persist. Getting as close as I can without our bodies brushing, I bring my lips to his cheek in a soft kiss, pressing them along his jaw.
Finally, firm hands land on my hips and not to push me away.
“Hallie.” His voice is gruff, hands holding me still. “What are you doing?”
“I just need…” I don’t know how to finish the sentence, but I keep touching him, winding my hands around his neck, scratching through the short hairs on the back of his head.
Whatever self-control is holding him together snaps in a burst of movement. My feet leave the ground as he slides his hands down my hips and around my thighs, lifting me against him. My silky dress rides up completely as my legs find their home around his waist as he walks us back and away from the door. My back is now pressing up against the wall, there’s no space between us, hardly a breath that isn’t shared as our lips clash. All rational thought leaves me, the muscles low in my stomach clenching with desire as he nips my lower lip, and I grasp his hair, pulling him farther into me.
It’s not enough. I don’t know if it will ever be enough.
Eventually, Marcus returns me to my feet, our kisses slower, lingering, before he steps back. My eyes are on the ground, mind whirling, chest thundering as the words I’ve been searching for finally form.
“Look at me,” he demands softly, arms still wrapped around me possessively.
I do, and what I see strikes me silent.
“Hallie, I don’t know what you’re thinking. I might not deserve to know, but I want you to know that I’ve always wanted you. That I loved you then enough to let you go. And I love you now in the very same way.”
His words knock the breath from me, and all conscious thought flees me completely.
The silence of the space around us, of this bubble we’re in, bursts with the sound of conversation and music as the door opens.
My head snaps around to find Erica and Katie, mouths agape, just inside the room. I can only imagine how this looks, how I look.
“Well, that was remarkably bad timing on our behalf,” says Erica, looking pained.
Katie stands next to her, looking awestruck at the two of us.
Marcus lets out a laugh, followed closely by a groan of dire frustration. “You have no idea.”
And because I’m disgustingly afraid and deeply untrusting of anyone’s ability to truly care for me and me alone, I do the worst thing possible. I turn and make to leave.
Except I don’t make it far. A gentle but firm hand wraps around my arm, not letting me go.
“Hallie,” Marcus says. “Will you stay?”
And it’s…
It’s a relief to be asked. To be still next to him.